situation?’
And with that, she polished off her drink, jumped off the stool and jetted back off to the dance floor, leaving me alone at the bar.
Only not for long, because a second later, Justin Bay slithered on to the stool she’d vacated and went, ‘So you honestly expect me to believe you don’t remember anything — anything — about us… and Paris?’
I looked at the bartender and he slid another Nikki special towards me.
‘You shouldn’t be talking to me,’ I said to Justin. ‘You’re Lulu’s boyfriend. And no, I don’t remember anything. That’s what the word amnesia means. Memory loss. It’s Greek for forgetfulness.’
‘Oooh,’ Justin said, wrapping his arm around my waist and leaning his face down to nuzzle my neck. ‘One bang on the head and you’re Miss Smarty Pants, aren’t you? And you know good and well that I can trigger your memory, if anyone can… ’
It was amazing. My body’s reaction to his warm lips on my neck was instantaneous. I felt like an electric current went up and down my spine. Only it was not unpleasant.
The thing was, Lulu was dancing not twenty feet away.
What happened next was as instantaneous as the reaction of my skin to his lips.
And that was that I dumped the contents of the cocktail glass the bartender had just slid towards me on to Justin’s head.
All the people around us hooted with surprise as Justin sputtered and leaped off the bar stool. To say he seemed astonished would be an understatement. He looked completely horrified — the more so when he licked his dripping lips.
‘You’re drinking water?’ he cried.
‘It’s called a Nikki,’ I said grandly, slipping off my bar stool. ‘I don’t do alcohol. Or other people’s boyfriends. And don’t you forget it.’
I stalked away to the sound of applause.
I found Lulu dancing with three other girls, all of whom were dressed in the height of eighties chic as well. It was if she’d sent out some secret coded message before we’d even left the loft. Here I was, one of the world’s hottest supermodels, and I still didn’t get how girls did that. Figured out what to wear, I mean.
‘Lulu,’ I shouted at her, to be heard over the incredibly loud music, ‘I’m going home. You can stay if you want, but I just wanted you to know, I’m leaving.’
Lulu stopped dancing and stared at me.
‘No,’ she said, shaking her wild-looking hair. ‘We never leave without the other person. If you’re leaving I’m leaving too. Let me just go tell Justin.’
‘Uh,’ I yelled, ‘Justin’s kind of… mad right now.’
‘Oh,’ Lulu said, comprehension dawning instantly. ‘Has he been hitting on you?’
Now it was my turn to stare. ‘You knew?’
Lulu rolled her huge eyes. ‘Duh. I know Nikki has a problem saying no to boys when they start kissing her… and also that boys have a problem saying no to kissing Nikki. But I thought that first part might have been cleared up by the spirit transfer.’
‘Well, I said no,’ I said uncomfortably. ‘And now he’s mad.’
I felt absurd standing there on the dance floor, having this conversation… especially since some guy who was wearing a ton of gold chains and very big trousers that showed off a lot of his underwear danced up and started grinding on me.
‘Aren’t you Nikki Howard?’ he asked me.
‘No,’ I said to him. Then I turned back to Lulu. ‘You mean, you knew this whole time?’
‘I suspected,’ Lulu said with a shrug. ‘But look, it’s not like Justin and I ever had this big love connection. He just always gives me really nice presents whenever he hooks up with someone else. And ever since you got back from the shows in Paris, there’ve been a lot of really nice presents.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ I said, meaning it. I felt terrible. Even though it wasn’t my fault. It was Nikki’s.
And I wasn’t Nikki. Or at least, I hadn’t been at the time she’d done the terrible things that had hurt Lulu.
‘You are too Nikki Howard,’ Big Pants insisted, dancing up on me again. ‘Damn, girl! You are one fine piece —’
I turned, placed my hand in the centre of his chest as he ground his pelvis against my leg, and pushed him down.
‘It’s all right,’ Lulu said, stepping neatly over Big Pants as he sprawled across the dance floor. ‘You really can’t help it. It’s like you’re powerless over kissing. Anyway, if we’re leaving, we should probably get Brandon. Last time I saw him he was — Oh, there he is. See, this isn’t good.’
Lulu pointed. Brandon was in the DJ’s booth, arguing with the DJ about something.
‘I’ll get him,’ I said, and hurried over just in time to hear Brandon saying, ‘You never want to play my songs, man. Why is that?’
The DJ’s reply was calm, but brutal. ‘Because your songs suck.’
Brandon pulled back his arm as if he was going to punch the DJ in the face. I flung myself forward and grabbed his arm, throwing all my body weight on to it so that he staggered backwards with me.
‘What’re you doing?’ he demanded, his words drunkenly slurred. ‘Did you hear what this guy just said? I’m gonna take him out.’
‘No, you’re not,’ I assured him. ‘We have to go now.’
‘I can’t go now,’ Brandon said, trying to shake me off. ‘I gotta kill this guy first.’
‘No,’ I said, digging my stiletto heels into the grout of the tiled floor to keep him from moving forward. ‘Brandon, you can’t. We gotta go. The limo’s waiting for us—’
‘Good,’ Brandon said, dragging me inexorably forward. ‘I’ll be there in a minute. Soon as I’ve killed this guy.’
Not knowing what else to do — but knowing I had to distract him somehow — I gave a sort of leap, keeping one arm wrapped around Brandon’s arm and throwing the other around his neck, and clamped my mouth over his.
As I’d hoped, Brandon’s reflexes weren’t too badly affected by alcohol for him not to catch me the moment I leaped into his arms. And he became too preoccupied with kissing me to remember his animosity towards the DJ. Kissing really is wonderful that way. I almost forgot myself that I was doing it just to get Brandon to quit wanting to fight…
… until, that is, someone standing close by cleared his throat, and I dragged my lips away from Brandon’s and saw Gabriel Luna standing there staring at us, holding a CD in his hand and looking vaguely bemused.
‘Oh,’ I said, colour rushing into my face. I was, after all, being held in the air by Brandon Stark. Although at least this time he hadn’t slung me over his shoulder, fireman style, like when he’d stuffed me into the limo the night he and Lulu kidnapped me. ‘Hi.’
‘Uh,’ Gabriel said. ‘Hello. Everything all right?’
‘Oh,’ I said, trying to sound breezy. ‘Yes. We were just leaving. Brandon, you can put me down now.’
‘No,’ Brandon said sullenly as he stared at Gabriel, apparently recognizing him from the grainy photo of the two of us on Gabriel’s Vespa that had been all over the place the day before.
‘Ha.’ I gave a nervous laugh, and tried to smile my dewiest at Gabriel.
‘He’s kidding. Put me down now, Brandon.’
‘No,’ Brandon said again.
I closed my eyes briefly, praying there wouldn’t now be a fight between Gabriel and Brandon.
But I needn’t have worried. Because of course Gabriel doesn’t like me that way, considering the fact that he thinks Nikki Howard is a recovering addict and all. When I opened my eyes again, he was still gazing at me with that same bemused expression.
And Lulu had come up behind him and was scowling.
‘God, what is taking so long?’ she demanded, in a surprisingly loud voice. She looked like a five-foot-tall angry general. ‘The car’s waiting, you guys. Move it, or lose it!’
Obediently Brandon followed her, not seeming to notice that he was still carrying me. Not knowing what else to do, I waved goodbye to Gabriel from over Brandon’s broad shoulder. Gabriel waved back — then seemed to
