Levi shakes his head, as if unbelieving. “Dad, could you just drop it?”
“What? I’m only reminiscing. It’s a happy memory.” His smile, vicious and cold, tells me otherwise. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some goods to bid on.”
Levi breathes out as Mr. Orville glides past us, his arm brushing mine. I shudder, then put my head in my hands. “Ugh, Levi. I’m sorry—I can take the necklace off.”
He grunts. “The necklace is not the problem—he is. He wasn’t invited—I don’t know who told him to come.”
I take Levi’s hand in one of my own, reaching to turn his face toward mine, so he can see my own doubt and anger. I should give him comfort of some kind, but I can’t seem to find a single thing to say, so I just lift myself on my toes and kiss the very top of his lips.
“Thanks,” he says, and even though he’s unconvinced, I gather a little thrill from kissing him here, around all these people. It grounds me in a way I had not realized it would, and that keeps me from doubting myself for the millionth time tonight. Together, we turn and watch the progression of people, the way they group together and write on cards and drink champagne. The way Levi’s dad saunters through the crowd and stares at the women and makes them laugh too hard and touches them too much.
I want to throw up.
“God, he makes me sick,” Levi says, echoing my thoughts. “This is exactly why I told Felix not to invite him.”
“There has to be a mix-up. You know, Felix probably has a secretary who does these things for him—maybe a note was misplaced?”
Levi shrugs, sullen. “Can’t do anything about it now.”
“Right. Good attitude.”
He gives me a sidelong look. His expression is almost laughing. “My attitude is terrible right now.”
I kiss him again, a little harder this time, and have to wipe the lipstick off his face with my thumb. (Not that I mind touching him.) “Sarcasm, Levi. Sarcasm.”
Levi is only required to stay long enough to collect the money. We’re invited to stay for the after party, but there are other things we’d like to do this evening. (Like kissing.) So we spend our last half hour in Felix’s home listening to the host calling out names, watching men and women walk to the front of the crowd with checks in hand. Levi shakes his head, like he can’t believe it, but I can. Everyone loves Levi. They love what he’s doing, too, and I’m sure they look at him and his smile and feel his warm handshake and think, What a standup guy.
It’s just the way the world works. All I have to do is stand by his side, hold his hand, let him drape his arm around my shoulder or waist. Sometimes I even let him kiss me, soft and warm and light, which helps me forget about how strange it feels to be here.
It’s been dark for two hours by the time Levi collects the check from Felix, and it’s folded neatly and placed in his wallet with the words “The Color Project” written across the front. We say quick goodbyes to Felix, thanking him again and again, before sneaking back upstairs to gather our things.
The bedroom immerses us in quiet; we can barely hear the sounds of the party below us. Levi squeezes my hand as we stare across the bed and out the glass door, lingering on the ocean that goes on forever.
“Hey,” he finally says, walking to the window. “I think there’s a lookout over there.”
I stand beside him, putting my arms around his waist. He points toward the north, where the cliffs jut out over the ocean and there are no houses or cars. “We should go,” I say. “We’ve got time, right?”
He nods. “It’s only ten.”
“Then let’s do it.”
Levi turns in my arms, kissing my forehead. He rests his chin on the top of my head and inhales. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me, too.” I turn my head, tilting backward, and it’s like he just knows I want him to kiss me. He lowers his mouth to mine. It’s different this time, knowing what to expect, but no less exciting or wonderful. He squeezes my waist, then his hands are rising toward my hair, and he releases the clip so it falls loosely around my face. Instantly, his fingers get caught in the tangling waves, and he has to carefully—awkwardly—extract himself.
Laughing, I lean back and pull my hair to the side. “We should go,” I whisper.
He touches my nose, softly, the pad of his finger trailing from top to bottom. “Okay.”
I gather my old clothes and stuff them into the dress bag, as well as my shoes (I think the straps might be cutting into my skin by now) and my makeup bag. Levi stuffs his clothes into his own bag, shouldering it.
I glance out the window one more time.
“Ready?” he asks, holding out his hand to me.
I do more than that—I slide in for a hug. “Want to say goodbye to your dad first?”
He gives me a look that says Ha ha no. He tugs on my arm. “He didn’t say hello, so he doesn’t get a goodbye. Come on.”
We wait for the valet to bring his car, but we only make it one block down the road before Levi’s phone rings. He hands it to me as he turns onto the side road that leads to the lookout.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Hey, Bee, it’s Felix.”
I glance at Levi. “Hey... did we leave something?” I ask, my first guess. I take inventory, trying to remember if I left my shirt on the bathroom counter or my tennis shoes under the sink.
“No,” Felix reassures, “I was just wondering if Levi knows where his dad is? We found his coat and wanted to return it to him.”
I relay this to Levi.
“Seriously?” He scowls.
I nod.
“I have no idea where he is.”
Felix tsks when I repeat this. “Well, if you hear from him before I do, let me know. And I’m sorry he showed up—Penelope was supposed to cross him off the list.”
“It’s all right,” I answer. “Levi figured it was a mistake.”
Felix sighs. “Thank him for me, and again, send his dad this way if you find out where he went.”
I hang up, and Levi swings into the lookout parking lot (which consists of a few dusty spaces right before the cliff’s grassy edge). He holds out his hand for his phone, and the second the car jerks to a stop, he’s dialing his dad’s number.
“Dad,” he says. There is nothing but irritation in his tone. “Where the hell are you? Felix is looking for you—you left your coat.” A pause. “Seriously? Where are you?” Levi puts his head in his free hand, grumbling something under his breath. “How many drinks have you had?” Another pause. “You need to pull over right now—Dad, don’t give me shit. Pull over and park by the beach or something. Drop a location pin and send it to me. We’ll come get you.” His dad says something else, loudly, but I still can’t hear him clearly.
Levi hangs up. He lays his phone between his legs and drops his head to the steering wheel—which lets out a bothered honk. He groans. “He said he lost count after drink four. And if I know anything for certain, it’s that my dad is a lightweight.”
I sigh. “Where is he?”
“About an hour north of here.”