The Heart System Chapter 527

Following some brief chatter with the owner, she started the extended stroll to my table. I rose, shifting to the opposite side of the booth to draw out the sturdy chair for her. She sat without a word, her motions smooth and noiseless. Sliding back into my place, I propped my elbow on the crisp white linen tablecloth. Smooth sailing so far. I'd braced for a catastrophe of clumsiness, but we were both pulling off the 'civilized' act to perfection.

A server materialized beside the table like a phantom, her tone a soft murmur. "Good evening. May I take your order, or perhaps start you with a bottle from our cellar?"

Carrie skipped the menu entirely. "The Beluga caviar to start, followed by the wagyu tartare. And a bottle of the ’45 Krug."

The server jotted notes rapidly, then faced me. I eyed the prices—digits resembling phone numbers—and cleared my throat. Sure, I could cover it, but... nah. Screw that.

"I’ll just... have a sparkling water. For now."

"Right away, sir."

Once she disappeared, I released a gradual breath, nodding to myself. "You look good, Carrie. Rested."

"Yes. I took some time off from everything," she answered, her tone calm and even. She finally removed her sunglasses, exposing eyes keener than I recalled. "I guess you could say I discovered a different side of myself during the hiatus."

"Glad to hear it... I guess," I responded.

"Mm."

I fidgeted in my seat, suddenly sensing the stares directed our way. At a nearby table, a woman faked inspecting her makeup in a compact mirror, but her phone's camera pointed directly at Carrie—and thus at me. A chill prickled my skin.

"I, uh," I started, leaning forward to murmur quietly. "I have a favor to ask—"

"I called in someone as well," she cut in, silencing me with a quick hand gesture. "Someone who was quite insistent on meeting you."

I furrowed my brow. "Okay... who is he?"

"She," Carrie corrected. "Her name’s Luna. I met her while I was staying at my summer house."

"Right..." I muttered. "Why the hell does she want to meet me?"

"She saw... the recordings," Carrie said bluntly. "The ones I took of us. In that hotel room."

My pulse jumped, and not pleasantly. "Recordings? What recordings?"

"I thought I’d record our sessions to... well, I don’t know. Sentiment? Curiosity? I didn’t tell you because I knew your ego wouldn’t like being on camera without a script," she clarified, her voice lowering to a secretive hush.

"You masturbated to them, didn’t you?" I asked tonelessly.

She let out a sharp breath, coughing lightly as a subtle, uncommon blush colored her cheeks. "Maybe. That is neither here nor there."

"Wow. Unhinged."

"Anyway," she pressed on, composing herself again. "Luna saw them. It was an accident."

"An accident?"

"I was showing her a picture of the new velvet couch I’d bought on my phone," Carrie detailed, glancing toward the hallway. "I swiped to the right and... that video played. It was on full volume. I nearly died of embarrassment, but she... well, she didn’t seem appalled. In fact, she took it quite well."

"Okay... that is easily the wildest shit I’ve heard all week," I remarked, massaging my temples. "Is she actually coming here tonight?"

"She’s already here. She just went to check her makeup. She was standing right behind me when I walked in."

"Hmm..." I reclined, thoughts whirling. If this Luna had witnessed what I did to Carrie and still desired to meet me, she was either a saint or every bit as warped as the rest of us.

"Speak of the devil," Carrie murmured.

I glanced toward the restroom corridor, curious about the type of woman who viewed a leaked sex tape as a fitting intro.

Adjusting my posture as a silhouette stepped from the corridor, slicing through the dining room's golden glow like pale moonlight on dark timber. She stunned like a luxury dream in silver. Her platinum hair flowed in a long, gleaming cascade over her shoulders, accentuating a face of eerie serenity.

Tall and poised with fluid, seamless elegance, she wore a dress that revealed far more than it concealed. The silver silk plunged daringly low, slender straps scarcely supporting the material over her ample curves, a high slit on the thigh flashing lace at her stocking's edge with each stride. This outfit didn't merely draw eyes—it enforced utter hush. Even Carrie Beldenwary's emerald silk appeared tame beside how this woman owned the gown's bold contours.

When she arrived at the table, I rose from my seat, the chair legs gliding softly over the marble floor. I drew out the chair beside Carrie, signaling her to take it.

"Thank you," she replied, her voice a deep, even murmur that seemed to vibrate from her chest.

"Luna, this is Evan. Evan, meet Luna," Carrie said, her voice casual, yet her eyes stayed glued to me, eager for my reaction.

"Nice to meet you," I responded with a quick nod, easing back into my chair. Luna merely tilted her head, her face giving nothing away.

"Likewise."

I cleared my throat and leaned in, placing my forearms on the table. The opulence surrounding us was a luxury I had no time for.

"I actually had an important matter to discuss, Carrie. I need a favor from you. An urgent one."

Carrie raised a finely shaped eyebrow, picking up her water glass. "A favor? You usually just take what you want, Evan. This is a change of pace."

"Jack Kuinn," I stated, brushing off the remark. "Does the name ring any bells?"

Carrie halted, her glass midway to her mouth. "Yeah... the Uptown chick. I know of her, though we’ve never actually spoken."

"Wait, ’her’?" I scowled, recalling the messy guy from the lobby in my mind.

"What do you call her type? A femboy?" Carrie shrugged, her green dress catching the light as she moved. "She’s a man, basically, but she plays the part of a girl when it suits her. Very ’Uptown’ aesthetic."

"Huh... I see," I mumbled, as the puzzle pieces fell into place.

"What do you want from her?" Carrie questioned, her stare intensifying.

"I just want to talk, is all," I answered calmly.

Carrie gave a sharp, musical laugh that turned a few heads from nearby tables. "I didn’t know you liked cute boys, Evan. Is there something you haven’t told me?"

Irritation surged through me, and I leaned closer, lowering my voice. "He... she... whatever. Jack is threatening a very dear friend of mine. Trying to coerce her into sending nudes. I can’t let that happen. It ends now."

"Ah... yes. She is twisted like that," Carrie noted coolly. She reclined in her seat, drumming a polished nail on the tablecloth. "But, as it happens, I also have a favor to ask. A trade, if you will."