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Déjà Vu

Kassandra Heit

    Eyes can be deceiving, only seeing what’s assumed, what’s wanted. To the two hundred attendants whose pride correlates directly to their bank accounts, Ambrose looked like just another man in need of a drink. While they were right to an extent, the whiskey he was about to request from the bartender was not his goal but his reward. With a few seemingly innocent touches, a couple ‘excuse me’s his charming gentleman persona had allowed him to nick anniversary, birthday, and apology gifts off the unsuspecting necks and wrists of those he passed. Yet even as he motioned for the bartender’s attention, his fell to the string of diamonds on the arm of the woman to his right.
    “Whiskey sour, please.” Ambrose requested, leaning against the bar.
    “Been a long time since I’ve heard someone order that.” The woman said, turning her gaze to him. She took him in, sizing him up much the same way he was doing to her. While his identity was mostly unknown, he was sure everyone in New York knew her. If not by the drama of her past or family, the publicity surrounding her husband’s ‘extracurricular activities’ with female company was sure to connect the dots.
    Even so, there was no need to remind her of any of that. “More for me, I guess.” He murmured, flashing her a grin as he held out his hand and gave his introduction. “Ambrose Holiday.”
    “James Love,” she replied, her palm meeting his. Her fingers slipped from him though when he attempted to raise them to his lips. “I met an Ambrose Holiday a long time ago. If you’re the same, I know you have more than just confidence in that suit of yours.”
    “Have you figured out if we’re the same?” Ambrose asked. He nodded his thanks to the bartender when his drink was placed in front of him. He lifted the drink to his lips, smiling behind the glass when his eyes fell back to James. “it’s not a very common name. I’d hate to learn that I share it.”
    “Not a fan of sharing or just not good with it?” James’s inquiry was accompanied by a smirk and a tilt of her head. The glint in her eyes was playful, but she already knew his answer.
    Ambrose placed his glass back on the bar before leaning close to James. “I share almost everything and everyone, even when I don’t want to. My name has been the one exception, and I don’t ever plan on changing that. So I ask again. Am I the same Ambrose Holiday you once met?”
    She was toying with him now, biting her lip the way she was. Placing her hand on his chest, she leaned closer, her breath raising goosebumps on his skin. He wrapped his hand around her wrist, fingers meeting the delicate diamonds he’d laid eyes on earlier. While he felt the clasp of the bracelet, he was sure she could feel his elevated heart rate when she spoke. “I’m still deciding.”
    Her warmth left him almost immediately. His eyes followed as she moved towards the exit, leaving him with half a whiskey sour and her forgotten diamonds. Despite having the jewels firm in his grasp, he started the same path she was making for him. He didn’t bother with sly moves on the way out. No snatches to line his pockets. He copied her footfalls until he was outside, the cool night air hitting him, and no visible sign of her was left.
    “You weren’t in there long,” Ford mused, leaning against one of the large columns in front of the party’s venue. He snapped his gum as he pushed off the pillar, joining Ambrose as they walked down the stairs. “Did society spook you? You get a little rusty while you were away. Let’s face it. Dealing with the toilet wine kings is nothing like this.”
    Ambrose held out his hand to Ford. While his pockets carried diamonds and rubies and emeralds, he showed the one thing to Ford that he still held in his fingers. “I’ve gotten better if anything.”
    “Not sure how you’re conducting that, because it’s inaccurate.”
    He would know that voice anywhere.
    At the bottom of the stairs, hidden behind the base of a massive statue, stood the owner of the diamonds and the one who now possessed his wallet.
    “I should’ve known you were here,” Ford huffed. “You do realize it’s not the best for him to be around you.”
    James shrugged, walking over to them with heels clicking on the pavement. “I didn’t invite him.” She accepted the hug and peck on the cheek from him before turning her eyes to Ambrose. “Are you looking to go back to prison?”
    “Just looking for you.” Ambrose corrected. He took her wrist back into his hand, clasping the diamonds back around it before reclaiming his wallet. “And, I found you.”
    “Yes, you did, and you’re the same as last time. While you’re fun and charming, I’d rather not be a public spectacle again.” James reminded him, quirking an eyebrow between the two men. “What exactly would lure me in this time?”
    Ambrose shrugged. “I’m not enough?”
    Ford snickered. “Not even if you were covered in gold.”
    “Could you go to the car or something?” Ambrose nearly growled back at his friend. He waited until Ford was walking away. He could still hear him chuckling, but nevertheless he was creating privacy. His gaze turned back to James, smiling down at her bored curiosity. “I know you still have feelings for me, Love. We’re wiser this time around. We may play the same games, but you know we’re ready for a much bigger scale.”
    James shook her head. “I have money.”
    “Yeah,” Ambrose agreed, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her closer, “but you don’t have everything. And, we want everything.”
    “Everything, huh?” James breathing, smiling despite herself. “You still at Ford’s?”
    “Yeah.”
     James pecked his lips, pulling from his arms and walking away with a wave over her shoulder. “Then, I know where to find you.”

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