Chapter 11: The Wrap Party
Between Us Girls, by Natalie Drenovac
If you’re new here, read: Chapter 1
Friday, August 23
The bar in Williamsburg is chaos but after three weeks of night shoots and missed deadlines, chaos is all we know. It’s what we crave. Like eating junk food begets more junk food. Our bodies want more of it. So, what better way to celebrate than keep the chaos rolling, add a bar tab, and let all of the pent up frustration alchemise over rounds of tequila shots into spontaneous bursts of sincerity and appreciation?
I’m at the bar with Carmen and Mike, our DP, when the first shots arrive.
“To Alex,” Carmen says, raising her glass. “Best producer in New York.”
“You haven’t worked with every producer in New York.”
“Don’t need to.” She clinks her glass against mine.
We drink. The tequila burns in the best way. The bar is loud and it’s perfect. Everyone’s talking over each other, telling stories from set, laughing. Our sound mixer is doing impressions of the director. The costume assistant is trying to teach our gaffer how to dance. Everyone is laughing, radiating a sense of pride and frazzled cortisol stores. This is my favorite part. Not the shoot itself, but this. When it’s done and everyone’s loose and celebrating what we made together.
Mike orders a round of drinks. “Is your wife coming?”
“Yeah, she should be here soon.” I glance at my phone to see if there have been any updates from Miranda, any work meetings running over, any battles with Tim. When I look up, she’s gliding through the door in what she calls her ‘revenge dress’ in a nod to Princess Diana and every woman who has ever worn a skin tight dress with layered intentions. Right on time. She finds me at the bar, kisses me.
“Congratulations, baby.”
“Thanks for coming.”
“Of course, I won’t be able to stay late though. Early flight tomorrow.”
“What? Since when?”
“The investor presentation. I told you last week.” She touches my face. “You were probably too buried in the shoot. I’m on a six AM to Chicago.”
Did she tell me?
“But I’m here now,” she continues, smiling. “Let’s celebrate.”
Carmen appears with drinks. “Miranda, hey.”
“Carmen! God, everything looked so good. You’re so talented.”
“Thanks.” Carmen hands her a glass of wine. “Figured you’d want something a little more high brow.”
“You’re a mind reader.” Miranda takes a sip. “This is perfect. What is it?”
“Sancerre. The bartender recommended it.”
“I didn’t think they’d have much of a wine list here but I stand corrected,” Miranda’s smiling at her. Really smiling. “That jacket is incredible, by the way. Is it vintage?”
“Yeah, I found it in the East Village.”
“I’ve been looking for one exactly like that. Where?”
They’re talking about leather jackets and vintage shops and Miranda’s laughing, touching Carmen’s arm when she makes a point.
I’m watching this when I see her.
Emily.
Standing in the doorway, looking around.
She’s in jeans and a black top and when our eyes meet across the bar, I hear it. That soft moan from the voice note. The way she whispered my name. The sound of her breath catching.
“Alex?” Miranda’s voice pulls me back.
“Sorry, what?”
“I asked why you’re hiding all these insider tips from Carmen.”
Emily’s walking toward us now.
“Hey!” She’s smiling, a little unsure. “Carmen said I should come by. I hope that’s okay.”
Carmen lights up. “Yeah, you’re right around the corner. It felt wrong not to invite you.”
“That’s so sweet.” Emily looks at me. “Congratulations on wrapping.”
“Thanks.”
Miranda’s face brightens. “Emily! How perfect. I’m so glad you came. Now we’re all here! Let me get you a drink. What do you want?”
“Oh, I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
“I’m not sure you’d like it, it’s a bit of an acquired taste. I’ll get you a…prosecco?” Miranda says as she heads to the bar.
Carmen leans in. “She lives like six blocks away. It felt weird not to ask her.”
“Yeah - totally. Makes sense.”
“Yeah?” Carmen says, scanning my face for warning signs.
“Absolutely.”
Miranda returns with a glass of bubbles for Emily. “Now, it’s not champagne so hopefully you can control yourself.”
Emily looks confused. Miranda smiles.
“The game? At Carmen’s house? You said you couldn’t control yourself around champagne.” Miranda’s laugh rises like the tight little bubbles in Emily’s glass.
“Oh wow, that’s quite a memory you have there.” Carmen interjects.
“Some nights are hard to forget,” says Emily.
The sentence hangs between us for a moment before Miranda rushes to fill the silence.
“This is so nice! We should all do something before St. Barths. Dinner at ours? You and David, Carmen, Giselle, everyone.”
“That would be lovely,” Emily says.
“Perfect. Leave it with me.” Miranda loops her arm through mine. “Baby, can you help me find the bathroom?”
We push through the crowd. Once we’re in the hallway, she turns to me.
“Why is Emily here?”
“Carmen invited her?”
“I know Carmen invited her. But why?” Her voice is light but there’s an edge like a crack down an ice cube.
“It’s not a big deal. Carmen thought—”
She touches my arm. “I love Emily. You know I do. It’s just kind of weird? She’s not crew and she’s no one’s partner.”
“I don’t know why. You can ask Carmen? I think she just thought it would be nice.”
“Right.” She looks at me for a beat. “You don’t need to take that tone with me. I was just asking. It’s a fair question. Let’s get back.”
We return to the bar. Miranda’s all smiles with Emily again, asking about the kids, laughing at her jokes, regaling her with tales of pickleball. But something is…off and there is nothing on god’s green earth that will make me acknowledge it.
“You are so funny, Emily!” Miranda whips her head around to face me. “Alex, did you know she had such a great sense of humour? I have no idea why David says you can’t take a joke.”
“I’m going to go get another drink.” I say, ignoring the question and my wife’s vicious undertone. Is it a cop out? Maybe. But I’ve worked so hard to get to this night I just want to have a good time and celebrate what we’ve achieved.
The party gets louder. People keep pulling me into conversations. I’m talking to Mike about our next project when I see Miranda and Carmen by the windows. Miranda’s laughing at something, her hand on Carmen’s arm. Carmen’s showing her something on her phone.
Carmen catches my eye, raises her eyebrows like: Is your wife flirting with me?
I mouth: Maybe.
She smiles.
Then Miranda is beside me, beaming. She pulls me into a hug. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks.”
She checks her phone. “I should probably head out. I need to be up in five hours.”
“Already?”
“Yeah. Early flight.” She kisses me. “You should stay. Celebrate. Just don’t stay too late.”
“Okay.”
“Text me when you leave.”
“I will.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too.”
She says goodbye to Carmen and a few crew members, then leaves. The second she’s gone, Emily appears next to me.
“She left?”
“Yeah. Early flight tomorrow.”
Emily’s eyes are dark. “David was thrilled when I said I was meeting the girls. Didn’t even look up from his laptop.”
We’re standing close. Too close.
“When do you need to be home?”
Something passes between us.
“There’s a hotel two blocks from here,” I say.
This is different. Miranda and I haven’t talked about this. Haven’t agreed on anything. At Carmen’s dinner, everyone was there. The Hamptons, it was all of us. But this. Going to a hotel. Just the two of us.
There’s no way to explain this.
No way to tell her.
And I’m going to do it anyway.
“Let’s go,” Emily says.
“You should leave first. I’ll meet you there.”
“Okay.” She touches my hand. Just for a second. “Ten minutes.”
She leaves.
I wait. Talk to Carmen for a minute.
“You heading out?” she asks.
“Yeah. Exhausted.”
“Great party!”
“Thanks for everything.”
She hugs me. “I hope it was okay that I invited Emily. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
I leave.
Outside, the air is cooler. I walk two blocks. Emily’s waiting outside the hotel.
“Hi,” she says.
“Hi.”
We go inside. Get a room. The desk clerk smiles slightly as he hands over the key. Two women, late at night. This is New York. I’m sure he’s seen everything.
I barely get the door closed before she pushes me against it.
Her lips finds mine. Hard. Desperate. She moans into my mouth and the sound goes straight through me.
“God,” she breathes between kisses. “I’ve missed you.”
Her hands are in my hair, on my face, pulling me closer. I kiss her back just as hard, my hands sliding down her sides.
“Alex—”
I kiss down her neck.
My hand goes to her hair. I pull her head back. Gentle but firm. Opening her up to me.
“Jesus,” she breathes.
I kiss her throat. Bite down softly. She makes this sound, low and desperate.
“More,” she says.
I bite harder. Suck. Leave a mark I know she’ll have to hide.
“Alex.” Her hands are pulling at my clothes. Frantic.
We take our shirts off. I unhook her bra and she gasps when my hands find her breasts. Her nipples are hard already. I circle one with my thumb and she arches into me.
She’s pulling at my jeans. I help her. We’re desperate, clumsy, laughing a little when her zipper gets stuck. When we’re both finally naked, I just look at her for a second.
“What?” she asks.
“You’re so beautiful.”
She pulls me into a kiss that’s all heat and hunger. I pin her against the wall. My thigh between her legs.
“You’re wet,” I say.
“It’s what you do to me.”
I grind my thigh against her and she gasps, her hips moving immediately, chasing the friction.
“Please,” she says. “I need you inside me.”
I slide two fingers inside her.
“Fuck,” she breathes. “Yes.”
My fingers move inside her. Deep. Finding that spot that makes her cry out. My thumb finds her clit and she starts grinding against my hand, shameless, chasing it.
Her nails dig into my shoulders. She’s close already. I can feel it in how she’s clenching around my fingers, how her breathing has gone ragged.
“You feel so good,” I say against her neck.
“Alex, I’m—”
“I know.” I draw it out until I know she can’t hold back any longer. “Come for me.”
She comes hard. Shaking. Her whole body tensing, clenching around my fingers, crying out my name. When the waves finally stop, she sags against me, breathing hard.
I hold her up, kissing her neck softly while she catches her breath.
She walks me backward to the bed. Pushes me down. I lie back and watch her climb over me, straddling my hips. She kisses me slowly, deeply, her hand sliding down my stomach.
Her hand slides between my legs and I’m soaked. Have been since the bar. Since she looked at me across the room.
“God,” she breathes, circling my clit. I moan.
She slides two fingers inside me and I gasp. She finds the rhythm immediately.
“Like this?” she asks, curling her fingers.
She’s watching my face, reading every reaction. Her thumb finds my clit and I’m lost. She’s moving faster now, harder.
“You’re so beautiful when you’re close,” she whispers.
I’m right there. Right on the edge. The pressure building, my whole body tightening.
“You’re all mine,” she whispers.
I do. Waves crashing through me, my back arching off the bed, her name ripping out of my throat. She doesn’t stop, drawing it out until I have to grab her wrist because it’s too much.
She pulls out slowly, brings her fingers to her mouth, swipes them across her lips while looking right at me.
“Fuck,” I breathe.
She grins. Lies down next to me.
We’re both sweaty, breathing hard, tangled together.
“That was—” she starts.
“Yeah.”
But I’m not done. Watching her taste me has made me hungry again. I roll on top of her, kiss her hard.
“Alex—”
I’m already halfway down her body. Her neck. Her breasts. Her stomach. Her thighs. I can smell how turned on she is. It’s intoxicating.
I put my lips on her and she gasps, her hand going to my hair.
I get lost in it. The taste of her. The way she’s dripping. How her thighs shake when I slide my tongue just right. It makes me dizzy, thrilled, wanting to stay here forever.
“Alex,” she gasps. “God—”
I slide two fingers inside her while my mouth keeps moving and she cries out.
“Don’t stop,” she breathes. “Please don’t stop.”
I don’t. Not until she’s coming, grinding against my face, crying out my name.
After, we lie tangled together. Sweaty. Breathing hard.
“That was—” she starts.
“Yeah.”
We stay like that for a while. Her head on my chest. My hand in her hair. Neither of us wanting to move.
Eventually, we have to get dressed. We do it slowly, kissing between pulling on clothes, not wanting this to end.
At the door, she stops.
She kisses me one more time. Long and slow.
Then she leaves.
By the time I get home, the apartment is dark. Miranda’s asleep, her suitcase packed by the door.
I shower. The water runs over me and I can still feel Emily’s hands, her mouth.
When I slip into bed, Miranda doesn’t stir.
I lie there for a long time. Body still humming. Mind racing.
Eventually, exhaustion wins.
The alarm goes off at five AM. Miranda’s up immediately, moving quietly around the room.
She kisses my forehead. “Love you. I’ll text you when I land.”
The door closes. I hear her rolling suitcase. Then silence.
The text lands when she does, a soft buzz and a fulfilled promise.
There’s a text from Emily too. Sent twenty minutes ago.
Emily: Are you awake?
Me: Now I am.
Emily: Can I see you today?
I look around the empty apartment. Miranda’s gone. Won’t be back until Sunday.
I shouldn’t.
Me: How would you like your eggs?
Emily: Lol, I’ll be there in 20 minutes.
I get up. Make coffee. Try to make the apartment look presentable.
Twenty minutes later, the buzzer rings.
When I open the door, she’s standing there. Hair down. No makeup.
“Hi,” she says.
“Hi.”
She walks in.
“Miranda’s really gone?”
“Yes.”
She looks around the apartment, looks me up and down. She pulls me into a kiss that is long and slow and full.
“Soft scrambled with butter.”
Keep Reading: Chapter 12
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Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. The characters, events, companies, places, names, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance, whether direct or indirect, to actual persons (living or dead), places, events, or businesses is entirely coincidental and unintended. Where reference is made to real locations or historical events, such references are included solely for the purpose of creating a sense of authenticity. They should not be interpreted as depicting real people, their actions, or their conduct. The author expressly disclaims any and all responsibility for any such interpretations or assumptions.
I take my eggs with a side of SPICE 🔥