Chapter 13 "You look absolutely stunning, Primrose," Brandon said as he moved in to kiss me on the cheek. Janelle and I had arrived at Juno Bar a bit early and had already ordered a drink by the time Brandon showed. I'd worn a black crop top paired with black leather pants tonight. The shirt was a shimmery material and was as fancy as it got in my half-shirt collection. I'd spent extra time on my hair and sprayed a fresh burst of perfume before I left the mansion. And if pressed, I'd have to admit that it was all for my roommate, no one else. But that was if Dorian even showed up. It wouldn't surprise me one bit if he bailed again. In fact, I was almost expecting it. Or at least I had to expect it to protect my feelings. I really wished it didn't matter so much. After chatting for a minute, Brandon asked, "Can I get you ladies another drink?" I lifted my glass. "I'm just gonna nurse this one." "Actually, I'll have another cosmo." Janelle smiled. "You got it." He made his way over to the bar. She elbowed me. "You should bring guys along more often when we go out. Can't say I mind getting my drinks paid for." "That's obviously not why I invited him, but noted," I said, glancing at the door. "Why do you keep looking over there?" This was like déjà vu of the art event. I'd spent that entire evening checking the door, and Janelle had called me out on it then, too. "I invited Dorian to meet up with us," I admitted. "Just seeing if he showed up." Her mouth went agape. "What? Why did you do that? You gonna have a threesome or something?" "Hardly. Like I said, he's not interested in me that way. I told him to bring a date. And your reaction is exactly why I put off telling you for as long as possible." "Why would you invite the guy you're crushing on to bring a date while you're on a date with a guy who is clearly into you? Seems too complicated." "First of all, I'm not even sure this is a date with Brandon. It's just a casual meet-up. Second, the sooner Dorian and I get comfortable with the reality of our relationship, the better. He's my roommate. He's also come to mean a lot to me as a friend. I don't want to feel strange if he brings a date around. Nor should he feel weird if I do the same. I have to move on with my life." "Well, that sounds dandy, except for the fact that you still like him. Are you kidding yourself?" "Any lingering feelings I may have are exactly why I need to do this." "Okay." She sighed. "Whatever." Brandon returned holding a beer and Janelle's cosmo. He gave it to her and looked over his shoulder. "There's a table over there that just became available. Should we steal it?" "Absolutely." I started over, grateful for the opportunity to sit down, since the stiletto booties I'd worn tonight were killing my feet. As we sat at the table, Brandon took a sip of his beer. "You said in your text that your roommate might be meeting us?" "A friend." I nodded. "I'm not sure if he'll show." Janelle smirked. I glared at her. A live band that had been setting up now started to play in the corner of the room. It was already nine, an hour past the time I'd told Dorian we'd arrive, and there was still no sign of him. Looked like this was going to be a repeat of the art show. I'd been saving my second drink in case I needed it after Dorian showed, but I finally gave in and let Brandon fetch me another white wine from the bar. I was looking over at Brandon waiting in line when a voice startled me. "Is there room for two more at this table?" A rush of adrenaline shot through me as I turned to find Dorian and a gorgeous brunette-that was a change. I swallowed the lump in my throat, forced a smile, and pretended to be delighted to see them. "Hey!" Dorian gestured to his date. "This is Meena." He turned. "Meena, this is my roommate, Primrose." Janelle cleared her throat, prompting me to remember she was here. I needed to get my head out of my ass. "I'm sorry." I pointed to my friend. "Dorian and Meena, this is Janelle. She's my closest friend here in California." He nodded. "Very nice to meet you, Janelle." Janelle smiled. Of course, Dorian had to look and smell freaking amazing. He was dressed more casually than usual, with dark jeans and an olive green Henley that fit against his muscles like a glove. Why did he have to be so freaking hot? Meena took a seat across from me, next to Janelle. "Is your date here?" Dorian asked. "Yeah. He's at the bar." "Looks like we need one more seat, then. I'll see if I can find one." A moment later, Dorian returned with a chair, positioning it at the end of our table. Brandon returned shortly thereafter, setting my wine in front of me and reaching his hand out to Dorian. "Brandon Wright. You must be Primrose's roommate?" They shook. "Dorian Vanderbilt." He turned to his date. "And this is Meena." "Nice to meet you, Meena." Brandon grinned. She smiled and took his hand. Dorian stood. "I know you just got wine, Primrose. Does anyone else want something from the bar?" Janelle jumped at the chance for another free drink. "I'll have a cosmopolitan, if you don't mind." She wasn't even done with her last one. Dorian nodded. "Of course." I guess I'll be driving home. Meena asked for a vodka seltzer with lime before Dorian left the table. After a moment of awkward silence, I twiddled my thumbs and turned to Meena. "So...how did you meet Dorian?" "We met on an app. This is our first date." "I see." Meena tilted her head. "He said you're an artist?" "Yep." I nodded and took a long sip of my wine. "That's very cool," she replied. That was the extent of our riveting conversation. Janelle had bumped seats with a man behind her, and now she was chatting him up. He appeared to be the fifth wheel to another set of two couples, and he and Janelle were joking about having that in common. Dorian finally returned. "I thought I'd never get out of that line. This place is packed." He set the drinks down before turning to Brandon. "You guys met at school?" "Yes..." he answered. "But I'm not a student. I graduated a few years back." "Brandon is an advisor and mentor," I added. Dorian stirred his drink. "Are you a full-time artist?" "Yes. I do well working on commission." "Impressive." Dorian took a sip. "And what do you do?" Brandon asked. "I run a technology company." "That's right. Primrose mentioned that you lost your dad and had to take over. I'm sorry to hear that." "Thank you." Brandon turned to Dorian's date. "And what do you do, Meena?" "I'm a buyer for Sheldon's." "Oh nice." I feigned interest. "I love their...crop tops." "I'm sure you do." Dorian grinned mischievously over at me as I felt my cheeks heat. Maybe I was kidding myself, but it felt like from the moment he'd walked in, Dorian's eyes had mostly been on mine, as if everyone else didn't exist. "That must be such a fun job," I said, clearing my throat. "It is for now. I can see myself tiring of it." I licked wine from my lips. "Why do you say that?" "Someday when I have kids, I don't want to be working." How nice to have that option. I inwardly rolled my eyes. "I'm guessing you were raised by a stay-at-home mother," I said. "That's correct." "That's nice. But not everyone has the luxury of choosing not to work. My mother certainly didn't." I bit my lip, unsure whether that came across as rude. Maybe I meant it to be rude, since there was something about Meena I didn't like. Perhaps it was the fact that she'd very possibly get to sleep with Dorian tonight? That was likely it. "What type of art do you make?" Meena asked me after a moment. "Well, I draw mostly wildlife, scenes of nature, and some humans. I don't have a specific name for my specialty. I guess you could say I like taking things found in nature and giving them a bit of a bizarre twist." Dorian smiled. "Surrealism, maybe?" "I like that." Our eyes locked until Brandon interrupted. "Can I give you a bit of advice, Prim?" Prim? I'd never liked when anyone shortened my name that way. "Of course." "Your technique is obviously excellent. There is no doubt about your talent. But don't be afraid to challenge yourself, to take risks, to use the opportunity to tell a story, make a point, change the world with your art. The animals are cute and all. But I feel like you might not be living up to your potential." My chest tightened. Cute? Fucking cute? It had taken me days to perfect each of those monkey portraits. I'd never been great at accepting criticism. But when it came to my art, I was even more sensitive. Who the hell said art needs to always make a statement? Why can't it just be beautiful or open to interpretation? "I'm not sure I understand what you're getting at," I finally said, feeling deflated. "Okay...like, for example, the monkeys..." He chuckled. "Again, your talent is obvious. They're extremely realistic. And while there's clearly a theme...it's hard to see the point of putting a bunch of monkeys in various costumes." I'd gone from feeling offended to wanting to cry. He thought my art was meaningless? "Who died and made you the authority on art?" Dorian seethed. I looked up suddenly. Brandon shook his head. "No one. I've just...been around the art world a bit longer than Prim has. From a career perspective, I know what sells. People are looking for art that makes a statement." "And you think some depressing image with a contrived agenda is going to be what brings someone joy?" Brandon held his palms out. "Relax, I was just trying to give her gentle constructive criticism." "By shitting all over something she worked her ass off on? That's not very gentle." My head moved between them as if I were watching a tennis match. I could've said something. But I was enjoying this too much. I'd gone from the verge of tears to something else entirely. "I absolutely did not mean to shit all over anything." Brandon turned to me, looking a little panicked. "And if I in any way implied that-" "Sure," Dorian interrupted. "When I first saw her monkey paintings, I laughed like you did just a moment ago. And I've regretted it every day since. Because while funny on the surface, if you stop to actually think about the many possible interpretations, it opens up a cornucopia of discussion prompts. We as humans think we're the superior species. But we don't even fully understand where we came from. A world with primates at the helm is probably one of the greatest existential fantasies I could ever imagine. So, perhaps you should ask yourself if you're the one being short-sighted here, to suggest that in order to be meaningful art has to shove some loud message down people's throats. There's something to be said for subtlety." His chest rose and fell in anger. The table went quiet. I wanted to reach across the table and kiss Dorian-that was one of the things I wanted. The other was to smack Brandon in the face. Even if he was coming from a good place in offering what he felt was an honest opinion, critiquing my art on the first date was not a way to win me over. The whole experience gave me a burst of confidence mixed with a dash of fuck it all. "You know what? I'm kind of tired all of a sudden," I announced, standing from my seat as the chair skidded against the wooden floor. "I'm gonna head home." Brandon stood. "Prim, I didn't mean any offense." I placed my hand on his chest. "I know you didn't. But I have to go. I'm sorry." My eyes narrowed. "Also, I don't like to be called Prim." Dorian flashed me a proud smile. I walked over to Janelle, who was now at the next table. "Do you think we could leave?" I asked. "Actually, I need to sober up before I drive." She leaned across to speak into my ear. "But also, I'm really enjoying Michael's company and am not ready to go." "No problem." I hugged her. "I'll call a ride. You have fun. You deserve it. Don't have anything else to drink, though, if you're gonna be driving yourself home. And please just call a ride if there's any doubt." She winked. "Maybe I'll ditch my car here and let Michael take me home." "Be careful," I mouthed. Feeling feisty, I snuck out a side door. I didn't want to return to the table in the event Dorian felt obligated to give me a ride. I regretted not saying goodbye to him. But more than that, I didn't want to spend another second sitting across from him and his date. Not sure why I'd ever thought going on a double date with a man I was practically obsessed with was a good idea. Every second that I had to look across at them had pissed me off more than the last. I clearly wasn't ready for that. The ride I'd called never showed, so I walked a couple of blocks to a nearby pharmacy to pick up a few things. Then I called another car to take me back to the mansion. When I finally made it home, I turned the key and froze at the sight of Dorian standing in the entryway-alone. What the hell? In a romance-themed observation show, several participants undergo a series of interactions and conflicts filled with love, misunderstandings, and power struggles. In the end, one couple rises to over...