Wild Night: Part 8
Cara
Meanwhile, C.J. paced restlessly at her and Sam's apartment. Donna was supposed to call when she got things going. It wasn't like her to forget. Besides, she wanted to know what was going on.
Finally the phone rang. C.J. pounced on it. “Donna?”
Unfortunately, it wasn't. “No, it's Leo. Why, what're you doing tonight?”
“Not a lot.” C.J. lied. “Why?”
“No reason.” Leo shifted tones. “Listen, I need the number for Eleanor's place.” Since establishing herself full-time in Washington C.J.'s mother had rented a place of her own. She had given Leo the number at least four times and he had lost it each time.
C.J. sighed. “Just a minute.” She went rummaging for it, and eventually located the scrap of paper. “Here,” she said, spelling out the number. She was about to elaborate but a small voice inside her head asked, what if Donna was trying to call?
Thus she said, “Mom should be home, Leo. Goodbye.” Without waiting for an answer she hung up the phone, and true to her foreboding it rang again. “Hello?”
“C.J., it's me.” Donna sounded like she'd had a fair amount to drink herself.
“Donna? What've you been doing?”
The younger woman giggled. “Nothing, C.J. I've just been … watching, really. And trying to get Josh to hit on me.”
“What?” C.J. was confused.
Donna sighed and explained, giggling all the while with pent-up nervousness. “I approached him and thought I'd mess with him a little bit. But he's tried to ignore me. Says he has better at home.”
“That's too funny!” C.J. laughed. Her voice took on a hard edge though. “Is he drunk? And how's Sam?”
“Sam's not drunk yet, though he's getting there.”
“Do I even have to ask about Josh?”
“Probably not, though I haven't seen him in a half-hour or so.” Donna broke off as something happened in the background. “Go Josh!” she cheered, laughing.
“What's up?” C.J. asked.
“The best!” Donna let out a laugh that was eerily akin to a cackle. “Josh and Sam are doing Jello shots!”
C.J. shook her head, laughing. The boys were making this far too easy.
“Oh!” Donna reacted as if someone had stuck her with a pin. “Toby's here too.”
“I might have guessed it,” C.J. answered. “What'd he say? Did he recognize you?” She reckoned Sam and Josh had not, for Donna would not have remained there if they had.
“Actually …” Donna lowered her voice. “Yeah, he did. But he hasn't unmasked me or anything.”
“Good.” C.J. thought for a moment. “He might be a useful ally.”
“Well … he would be if he was sober.” Donna's tone was apologetic, yet a hint of amusement crept in.
C.J. had to chuckle. Toby was an extremely funny drunk. “Go back to the party, Donna. Keep an eye on the guys.”
“I will.”
“Call me later.”
“I will.”
The two women disconnected. Donna stuck the cell phone in her little handbag and rejoined the party.
It was a little strange. At the beginning Donna had been nervous, and felt out of place. But now with a purpose – messing with Josh – she'd found herself growing into the role. She'd sat on the lap of a prominent senator just for fun. And she'd watched Gina do her routine until she wound up completely nude, standing right in front of Josh. And he hadn't blinked.
If Donna hadn't been so confused, she would have applauded. Josh was staying away from women for … what? For her? Who the hell knew?
She walked back to the party, where she bumped into Sam. “Hi, Mr. Seaborn,” Donna purred, instantly on guard. “Having fun?”
“Oh yeah!” Sam's face, luckily, had taken on that pink tinge that signifies an overconsumption of alcohol.
“Good. I'm glad.” Just for effect, Donna slipped an arm around Sam's waist.
He didn't remove it. “So,” he said, grinning that child's smile, “what's a beautiful girl like you doing in a place like this?”
Donna had to giggle. “It's just for fun,” she said.
“Fun.” Sam echoed. Putting down his glass, he appraised her. “It must be lotsa fun.”
Something in his look didn't sit well with her. “Um, I'll see you 'round,” Donna said, ducking away. Only then was she conscious of the fact that she was holding her breath. Letting it out, she kicked herself viciously. What the *hell* was wrong with her.
After a moment she spotted Gina, now clothed. “How's it going, kiddo?” the other woman asked.
“Pretty well,” Donna answered.
Gina smirked. She was a little tipsy, but coherent enough to speak and walk a straight line. “Well, I've got news that'll make the night better. Mr. Lyman is, in my opinion, what we call pissy-assed drunk.”
Donna laughed. “Fabulous! Where is he?”
Gina gestured to the couch. Josh was sprawled out on it, peacefully watching the party guests.
Donna ducked into the other room to keep from laughing.
Part 9
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