Precious Secret

7. You're just a client

Stephen

During the duration of our relationship, Krystina and I developed an almost sixth sense for one another. When she would walk into the room, I'd feel a change in energy. A pulse or a charge of some sort.

I wasn't stunned at all to realize that 5 years apart hasn't diminished that effect at all.

I had to physically stop myself for staring at her when I entered her office earlier today.

She's always looked a few years younger than her age. People would mistake her for 17 and 18 years old, even when were juniors in college. These past few years have been especially good to her. Her once routinely straightened hair, is now perched on top of her head in a bun full of her natural curls. She's still wearing the same plum lipstick she wore on almost all of our dates. She's familiar, yet strange all at the same time. The sarcastic tilt of her lips tells me she hasn't changed a bit, yet the hard look in her eyes tells me different. The innocent aura she used to emit is gone. She seems hardened in a way.

Why I thought I could march into her office and force her to work with me directly, I'll never know. The liquid courage I possessed moments ago, dissipated the moment our eyes met.

She's still just as feisty as I remember. I'd been a brat before I met her. Surrounded by money, leeches, shallow company and "yes men". Everyone would bend to my will. If I said jump, they asked how high. Everyone but her. She humbled me. Knocked me down a few pegs, back to earth. She never let me get away with anything. It was after her relieving me of my egotistical nature, that I began to make friends for the first time in my life. Real friends.

Sitting across from her now, it's like our breakup never happened. It's almost as if we haven't gone a day without seeing each other. Almost as if she didn't commit such an act of betrayal. Almost.

I'm out of the Paramount office less than forty five minutes later, with a satisfied smile on my face. Everything has a price Ms. Green.

I pull out my phone on the way to the car, dialing Fernando's number.

"What's up my man?" He answers on the second ring.

"Hey, do you have plans tonight?"

"Not really. Why? Who's party are we crashing?" He asks.

"No one's. I just need a little breather. How 'bout it? You, me, and the guys. We can hit up some of the clubs. Just like old times." I offer.

"Yeah sure man. We're game!" He says excitedly.

Even I have to admit that I'm excited for tonight. Not in a giddy fangirl way, but in an I-Haven't-Gone-Out-Socially-In-Months-Damn-I-Need-This-Night-Off type of way.

I head home to change my clothes, and then I'm out door a few minutes later.

After getting drinks at the first club, Vice, we decide that tonight is a perfect night for club hopping.

We're at the second club for not even a full 40 seconds before I feel that distantly familiar pulse in the air. I turn my head to the side and spot her and a friend on the dance floor, looking straight at me.

The guys, who've just come through the door, look in the direction I'm staring in to see what has me to captivated, and all hell breaks loose.

I hear a chorus of "No fucking way", "Look what the cat dragged in", and "Is that who I think it is?" as the guys happily make they're way over to Krys and her friend.

It's only when we reach them that I realize who the friend is.

"Savannah!" I shout out joyously, moving through the sea of bodies to get to her. I throw out one arm, going in for a hug, but the glare she sends my way stops me cold.