Camille
I dragged my self back to the table, cheeks flushed, dress torn slightly at the thigh.
Bianca raised a brow. “You disappeared.”
“Bathroom,” I lied.
Her eyes dropped to the tear in my dress. “Sure babe," she laughed. "How did it go?"
I shook my head, grabbed the next glass of champagne and downed it in two sips.
He hadn’t even looked back. No name. No goodbye. Just walked off.
“Okay,” Bianca leaned in, smirking. “Did you win?”
I stared at her, my eyes gleaming. “Define win.”
“You f****d him, didn’t you?”
I didn’t answer.
“Oh my god, you did. So? Was he good?”
“He’s… not what I expected.”
Bianca blinked. “What does that mean?”
I stood. “I need to talk to him, hold on."
The bar was empty. Another waiter was wiping it down. Definitely not him. I scanned the room. Nothing
