Empire of Lies
booth at one of the best night clubs in town. It’s one of the hardest places to get on the list, and I’ve always wanted to see what it’s like on the inside.”“Which nightclub is this?”
“Fahrenheit 900.”
“I see.” He smiled. “Well, after you get done seeing the club with him, you should come and spend the rest of the night with me.”
“Um…” My panties were officially soaked. “I don’t think my date would appreciate that.”
“Your body will in the morning.”
I was speechless. I looked ahead and realized that there was only one more stoplight left until we reached his promise of four.
“Let me guess,” he said, saving me from having to figure out my next line. “Your date for New Year’s Eve is a suit?”
“Yes.”
“Wall Street or regular corporate?”
“Makes no difference.” I shrugged. “All suits are the same.”
“They are,” he said. “Let me take another guess. He’s been begging to show you his side of life and promised you a night you’ll never forget?”
I nodded. “Very good guess. Are you a suit, too?”
“Never will be.”
The cab slowed as we approached a red light, and he looked me over one last time before moving back and opening his door.
“Have a good night,” he said. “Hope your date goes well this weekend.”
“Do you really mean that?”
“Not at all.” He smiled and stepped out.
“I’m free tomorrow and any time after the weekend,” I said, now knowing that my date with Jameson was a mere formality. “Now that I know you actually exist, I can unblock and message you back on Tinder.”
He looked up at the light as it turned green, sighing. “Happy New Year, Meredith.”
“Happy New Year, Michael.”
He shut the door and I kept my eyes on him as the driver pulled away. Until the only thing I could see was a blur of other yellow taxis and town cars.
When I made it to my condo, I noticed a bouquet of bright white roses and a blue box on my counter. It was my fourth bouquet this week. Just like the other deliveries, a small silver note hung from one of the stems.
I’m very sorry, Meredith.
I’d love to meet in the new year to apologize over brunch and start over. Just us.
(I’ve also decided to postpone the political things to focus on what’s most important.)
I love you.
Sincerely trying,
Dad
I sighed and sent him a text.
Me: I got your flowers (again…) A brunch after New Year’s works for me. I want to start over, too.
Right after hitting send, I logged into Tinder. I wanted to see Michael again tonight—logic be damned, but when I clicked on my inbox, our entire message thread was gone.
He’d deleted his profile.
Meredith Before
New Year’s Eve
Nights like tonight, I wished I had an Instagram account with tons of followers. If I had one, I’d pick this very moment to flip through the hundreds of shots I’d taken of myself in Fahrenheit 900’s glittering VIP lobby. I’d select the one of me standing in front of the colossal mirror in a revealing, emerald low-cut dress and sparkling silver stilettos. Then I’d write one of those vapid and pretty posts in hopes of garnering thousands of likes.
Currently looking at myself in one of the city’s biggest mirrors to REFLECT on everything I’ve learned this year. Getting ready to bring in my New Year the right way. With tons of friends, a VIP table at NYC’s hottest club, and wishes for a fresh start at midnight. #dayinthelife #livingmybestlife #NewYorkGirl #fahrenheit900
Having something to do would make my wait time to get into the club more bearable. Even with a VIP reservation, getting inside of this place was like getting into Fort Knox. They’d asked for my driver’s license, made me go through three different metal detectors, and asked me how well I knew the other person on the reservation at least six times.
Sighing, I looked over at the group of women who were standing across the room, donned in matching designer dresses. They’d gone through the same routine with me, and although the hostesses were bringing us drinks and small bites whenever we requested, we were more than ready to get inside.
“Are you here with them?” The bouncer stepped in front of me.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m here to meet someone else.”
“Jameson Turner, correct?”
I nodded.
“Okay, wait here.” He walked over to the group of girls and escorted them through the double doors that led inside the club first.
Wondering where the hell he was, I pulled out my phone and sent Jameson a text message.
Me: I’m here. Are you still coming?
His response was immediate.
Jameson: I’m still a little tied up right now, so I’m running late. Table is paid for and everything is covered. I’ll try my best to leave here in an hour. Can’t wait to see you tonight.
I groaned and cursed myself for giving up a night with Michael for this. Before I could toss my phone back into my purse, it buzzed against my fingertips.
A phone call from Gillian.
“Ahhhhh! Oh my god! It’s an emergency!” She screamed. Then she laughed. “Am I too late, or am I right on time to save you from your terrible date?”
“You’re beyond late, and you fucking know it.” I couldn’t help but laugh, too.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “We had bad cell service in Monaco. Did you manage to get out of it quickly?”
“Yeah, and—” I lowered my voice. “I ended up meeting the sexiest guy I’ve ever met in my life. Long story, but now I’m waiting to get through a rescheduled date with Jameson and hoping I get some good sex at the end, since I foolishly failed to seal the deal with the other guy.”
She sighed. “Meredith, I need to say something to you before we go into the new year…”
“No, wait,” I said, slowly retelling her the story of yesterday piece by piece—wishing I could give her a better ending. One where I got what I’d wished for in the end. “This other guy is