the figure of Jones materialized from nowhere, effectively blocking my path from both sides. His eyebrows knitted together in a stern frown. "Eliana Brooks," he spat, "Is this why you had refused to see me?"
The words had barely left Jones's lips when Damon shot him a frosty look.
Must be the whiskey playing tricks on me, I thought and rubbed my eyes. But when I looked again, the two men were still there, and their expressions were even more displeased than before.
Luna had already dashed off with a group of young men, and although the bar was bustling with people, I suddenly felt like I didn't belong.
"I need to use the restroom," I said, not knowing how else to escape the awkward situation.
"I'll go with you." Damon offered, standing to block my exit.
"No need," I replied, pushing him back onto the couch. "Please have a drink, I'll be back to explain things."
But Jones stepped in my way. "Eliana, what on earth are you wearing?"
