I spot Beau quickly, which only intensifies my mania. He’s in a booth with the suspected Leo man from Subtropical and a few vacant blondes. He looks bored in a sexy way, gazing at nothing in particular and flipping his black hair from side to side. I grab Thomas’s hand and pull him to a spot at the bar where I can get a better look.

“Oh,” Thomas whispers into my ear, “there’s my coke dealer.” He’s looking toward Beau’s booth. “Or I guess my old coke dealer.”

I pretend to care, but I really don’t. I don’t want to hear about Thomas’s coke dealer. I am twenty-nine. Coke is for children.

Thomas shoots a goofy wave in his coke dealer’s direction.

Beau waves back at him and my heartbeat quickens. What just happened? Maybe Beau was confused, or just being polite. Or he was waving at someone else.

“I love Beau,” Thomas says.

I start trembling.

“Too bad—”

“Wait, you know Beau?”

“Yeah,” Thomas says. “My old coke dealer. I could really use a pick-me-up …”

“Beau is not a coke dealer,” I say with indignation. “Beau is a photographer.”

“Yeah, I think he does that too,” Thomas says. He flags down the bartender. “Is prosecco good with you?” he asks.

“Beau is not a coke dealer,” I say again.

“Not anymore,” Thomas says. He turns to the bartender. “Two proseccos, please.” Then he returns his attention to me. “How do you know Beau?”

“I don’t know him personally,” I say. “I just, um, know his work.”

Thomas looks at me without an ounce of suspicion. He has zero intuition. He is incredibly literal, seeing only what is on the surface and nothing else.

Must be nice.

I’m dizzy. Thomas knows Beau. Beau has sold coke to Thomas. What the hell? Why in God’s name would a French aristocrat sell cocaine to Thomas? Maybe there are two Beaus in this bar. There must be some kind of confusion.

“Oh, cool,” he says. “Let’s go say hi when we get our drinks. He might be a good person to know. Maybe he could do your headshots.”

My heartbeat quickens again as I consider this option. I am so confused and afraid and angry. My high is crashing. Before I can answer, Beau and his crew get up and start walking toward us. Beau is looking right at Thomas, and I am certainly going to faint.

“Hey, man,” Beau says to Thomas, then pulls him into a weird masculine embrace. I am so confused as to why Beau seems to like Thomas. My thoughts are going loco. I grab the bar to steady myself.

“You remember Jax, right?” Beau says to Thomas.

The waiter drops our proseccos on the bar. I grab one and gulp.

Soon Thomas and the man in the dress are hugging.