Emerald’s POV
At last, the nausea subsided.
I stayed bent over the sink for another minute, breathing slowly until I was sure nothing else would come up.
The female attendant waited nearby, giving me time. When I finally straightened, she handed me a clean towel, then placed a paper cup beneath the automatic dispenser.
"Here, miss."
I took it gratefully. "Thank you."
"It’s mint mouthwash."
I nodded, rinsed thoroughly, and spat it out. The sharp, cool taste made me feel instantly fresher. After two more rinses, I splashed cold water over my face.
The reflection staring back at me still looked tired, but at least I no longer appeared moments away from collapsing.
"Would you like me to escort you back to your room?" the attendant asked politely.
I managed a small smile. "I’ll be alright. Thank you for helping me."
"It was my pleasure."
After thanking her once more, I left the washroom and made my way back toward our private room.
When I pushed open the door, both Claire and Laura looked up immediately.
"Mera!" Claire was the first to stand. "Are you okay? You were gone for a while."
I smiled reassuringly as I walked back to the sofa. "I’m alright now. I just felt a little unwell."
Only then did I notice Laura. She still looked flushed from the alcohol, but she seemed considerably more alert than she had been earlier.
I glanced at Claire and said, "She looks better."
Claire nodded. "I think the dizziness finally passed. She drank too much, and that last glass certainly didn’t help."
"I told you I was fine," Laura protested.
Neither of us believed her. I sat down and let out a quiet breath.
Claire studied me carefully. "Are you sure you’re alright?"
"I am." I gave her a reassuring nod. "I felt uncomfortable for a while, but I’m much better now."
Claire visibly relaxed. "Maybe we should call it a night."
Laura’s head shot up almost immediately. "What?"
"We’ve been here long enough," Claire explained.
"No!" Laura folded her arms dramatically. "We haven’t even danced yet."
Claire looked at me. I looked back at her. Neither of us knew whether to laugh or sigh.
Just as Claire opened her mouth to respond, three gentle knocks sounded on the door. All of us turned toward it.
The female attendant from earlier entered first. Behind her, two waiters carefully pushed in a trolley laden with covered dishes and another cart filled with desserts.
We stared at them in confusion.
Claire’s brows furrowed lightly. "I don’t think we ordered anything."
The attendant smiled politely. "No, miss." Then she turned toward me. "Mr. King asked that these be delivered to your room."
Laura sat upright so suddenly that the movement startled all of us. "Mr. King?" Her eyes had widened completely. Even the lingering effects of alcohol seemed to vanish.
I blinked at the lady. "Michael King?"
The attendant nodded with a pleasant smile. "Yes, miss," she replied, giving me a knowing look.
As though remembering another instruction, she added, "He also requested that everything be charged to his account."
The two waiters finished arranging the dishes on the dining table before bowing respectfully. The attendant did the same.
"We hope you enjoy your meal."
With that, the three of them slipped out quietly. The door clicked shut, and silence settled over the room.
Slowly, Claire turned to me, and Laura followed. I glanced between them. "...What?"
Claire was the first to speak. "Is this the same Michael King who stopped you from smashing that champagne bottle over Kelvin’s head?"
I nodded. "Yes."
Laura leaned across the table. "Then why is he sending you dinner?"
"I have no idea."
"How did he even know you were here?" she questioned.
"I bumped into him."
Claire frowned. "Bumped into him?"
I hesitated, then decided there was no reason to hide it. "After I left the room, I felt unwell. I was trying to reach the washroom when I accidentally ran into him."
"And then?" Laura blinked, looking every bit like she belonged on the cover of a gossip magazine.
"He noticed I wasn’t well." I left out the more embarrassing details. "He asked if I was here alone. When I told him I came with friends, he had someone help me to the washroom."
"And then he bought you dinner," Laura concluded.
"I suppose so."
Neither woman looked convinced. They folded their arms almost at the same time before fixing me with nearly identical expressions.
Claire’s gaze was thoughtful while Laura’s was openly suspicious.
I shifted uncomfortably beneath their scrutiny. "Why are you both looking at me like that?"
Claire tilted her head. "What exactly is your relationship with Mr. King?"
I stared at her. "There isn’t one."
"You’ve met him twice."
"By accident."
"And tonight?"
"My first proper conversation with him."
Laura raised an eyebrow. "And he’s already taking care of you and buying you meals."
I sighed. "Laura..."
"What?" she spread her hands.
"You’re making this into something it isn’t."
She grinned. "I haven’t even started."
I could already tell where this conversation was heading, and I wanted no part of it. The last thing I needed was for my two best friends to invent stories where none existed.
I looked toward the table, where the aroma of freshly prepared food was beginning to fill the room. "Instead of interrogating me," I said, "why don’t we eat before everything gets cold?"
Laura pointed a finger at me. "This conversation isn’t over."
I nodded slowly. "I had a feeling you’d say that."
Claire laughed softly. "I agree with Laura."
"Of course you do."
The three of us finally gathered around the table. As I picked up my fork, I couldn’t help remembering Michael’s calm voice.
"You shouldn’t drink again tonight."
"Find something to eat instead."
A faint smile touched the corners of my lips, but I quickly pushed the thought away. Tomorrow morning, I had an early flight to Boston.
Lanard Business School was waiting, as was a new city. And perhaps, a new beginning.
As my friends resumed their chatter around the table, I found myself wondering what my first day of class would be like.
Surely, there wouldn’t be any more surprises.