Page 9
Story: Empire of Ache & Ruin
“Yeah, he does.” I offer a curt nod to a woman who brushes past us.
“Jeez.” Gardenia throws her arms around my neck, furrowing her brows.
“What now?” I cock a brow.
“That woman is eye-fucking you right in front of me.” She cups my face. “So rude.”
“Are you jealous?” I chuckle.
“Of course not. It’s just rude. She doesn’t know we’re not together, together.” She presses her body closer to mine as if claiming her territory.
“Let’s get to work.” I point upstairs. “You scout the place. I’ll go find Chuck.”
“Okay.” She’s barely looking at me now as she strains her neck to look at the setup at the far end of the main hall laden with massive displays of various foods and ice sculptures. “I’m going to start over there. Is that guy pouring vodka over the ice swan to make martinis? Oh so genius.” She walks off as in a trance.
“Fine.” I roll my eyes at the back of her. “Don’t make yourself sick.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She waves in dismissal.
“It’s good for her to have some fun.” Fisher’s voice comes in loud and clear in my earpiece. “She’s stuck at home too much.”
“I see the comms are working,” I say, doing my best not to move my lips.
“Yep, we’re in business.” Jacob chews in my ear. “Nice work, Gardenia.”
“Thank you. At least someone appreciates my efforts.” Gardenia waves at me then points at the giant ice sculpture in the shape of a swan.
“Get your martini and head upstairs.” I smile, shaking my head. “I need eyes.”
“On my way.” She takes the coupe glass from the bartender and gets going.
“I’m going to find Chuck. We’re sure he’s here. Right?” I ask, scanning the room.
“His socials said he was at a shindig with his dad, the Senator,” Gardenia answers.
I met Chuck the same year I met Santino. Unlike with Santino though, our meeting was orchestrated by me a week after I learned Charles Maurice Davis, Chuck, was the Senator’s son. He had been admitted to Oxford after a mild scandal at Yale. He was eighteen at the time and had gotten into a relationship with an older married woman. His dad sent him away to Oxford until the rumors died down.
To me, Chuck was the start of the next thirteen years for me. He was proof that the universe wanted me to do right by Dad and Mom. Without even trying, I had access to the Senator’s son. Even though I haven’t seen Chuck for a couple of years since he left London, I keep in touch with him via the random “how’s life?” texts. His usual replies are mostly along the lines of “well, Dad still hates me.”
Shocker, the Senator is a shitty father.
I make my way to the bar, looking for him. And that’s when I’m struck by her scent. But in a sea of dresses, masks, and tall powdered wigs, I can’t tell who is wearing her perfume. My heart thrashes in my ears at the thought that she may be here. Is that even possible? Someone of her standing to be at one of the most exclusive balls in New York. Anger churns at the pit of my stomach. If she’s here, she’s here as an escort for some rich asshole.
“Is everything okay?” Fisher asks. “You sound like you can’t breathe.”
“I’m fine.” My gaze desperately searches for her golden eyes as I pick my way through the throng toward one of the bars on the far right of the room. I need a fucking drink. “Whiskey neat, please,” I say when the bartender nods in my direction. “Gardenia.” I speak into my lapel. “I think she’s here.”
“What? What do you mean she’s here?” Gardenia shrieks in my ear. “Camera is in place. Dad, Jacob, how’s the feed?”
“I got it,” Fisher responds.
“Same,” Jacob adds. “Who’s here? Your mystery woman?”
“Yeah, scan the room.” I breathe in to try and catch her scent again, but it’s gone. Did I imagine it? No, she has to be here. Her perfume in the air was real.
“Everyone is in a mask, Tristan,” Jacob informs me. “It’s hard to tell who’s who on the screen.”
“As I live and breathe. What the actual fucking fuck?” To my right, Chuck pushes people out of the way to get to me. “Archer. You fucking asshole. You’re here.” He pulls me into a bear hug. When the bartender puts a glass in front of me, Chuck points at him. “Did you give him the good shit? This is my best mate right here.” He says mate in a terrible English accent. “This man right here saved my life. You remember that?”
“Jeez.” Gardenia throws her arms around my neck, furrowing her brows.
“What now?” I cock a brow.
“That woman is eye-fucking you right in front of me.” She cups my face. “So rude.”
“Are you jealous?” I chuckle.
“Of course not. It’s just rude. She doesn’t know we’re not together, together.” She presses her body closer to mine as if claiming her territory.
“Let’s get to work.” I point upstairs. “You scout the place. I’ll go find Chuck.”
“Okay.” She’s barely looking at me now as she strains her neck to look at the setup at the far end of the main hall laden with massive displays of various foods and ice sculptures. “I’m going to start over there. Is that guy pouring vodka over the ice swan to make martinis? Oh so genius.” She walks off as in a trance.
“Fine.” I roll my eyes at the back of her. “Don’t make yourself sick.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She waves in dismissal.
“It’s good for her to have some fun.” Fisher’s voice comes in loud and clear in my earpiece. “She’s stuck at home too much.”
“I see the comms are working,” I say, doing my best not to move my lips.
“Yep, we’re in business.” Jacob chews in my ear. “Nice work, Gardenia.”
“Thank you. At least someone appreciates my efforts.” Gardenia waves at me then points at the giant ice sculpture in the shape of a swan.
“Get your martini and head upstairs.” I smile, shaking my head. “I need eyes.”
“On my way.” She takes the coupe glass from the bartender and gets going.
“I’m going to find Chuck. We’re sure he’s here. Right?” I ask, scanning the room.
“His socials said he was at a shindig with his dad, the Senator,” Gardenia answers.
I met Chuck the same year I met Santino. Unlike with Santino though, our meeting was orchestrated by me a week after I learned Charles Maurice Davis, Chuck, was the Senator’s son. He had been admitted to Oxford after a mild scandal at Yale. He was eighteen at the time and had gotten into a relationship with an older married woman. His dad sent him away to Oxford until the rumors died down.
To me, Chuck was the start of the next thirteen years for me. He was proof that the universe wanted me to do right by Dad and Mom. Without even trying, I had access to the Senator’s son. Even though I haven’t seen Chuck for a couple of years since he left London, I keep in touch with him via the random “how’s life?” texts. His usual replies are mostly along the lines of “well, Dad still hates me.”
Shocker, the Senator is a shitty father.
I make my way to the bar, looking for him. And that’s when I’m struck by her scent. But in a sea of dresses, masks, and tall powdered wigs, I can’t tell who is wearing her perfume. My heart thrashes in my ears at the thought that she may be here. Is that even possible? Someone of her standing to be at one of the most exclusive balls in New York. Anger churns at the pit of my stomach. If she’s here, she’s here as an escort for some rich asshole.
“Is everything okay?” Fisher asks. “You sound like you can’t breathe.”
“I’m fine.” My gaze desperately searches for her golden eyes as I pick my way through the throng toward one of the bars on the far right of the room. I need a fucking drink. “Whiskey neat, please,” I say when the bartender nods in my direction. “Gardenia.” I speak into my lapel. “I think she’s here.”
“What? What do you mean she’s here?” Gardenia shrieks in my ear. “Camera is in place. Dad, Jacob, how’s the feed?”
“I got it,” Fisher responds.
“Same,” Jacob adds. “Who’s here? Your mystery woman?”
“Yeah, scan the room.” I breathe in to try and catch her scent again, but it’s gone. Did I imagine it? No, she has to be here. Her perfume in the air was real.
“Everyone is in a mask, Tristan,” Jacob informs me. “It’s hard to tell who’s who on the screen.”
“As I live and breathe. What the actual fucking fuck?” To my right, Chuck pushes people out of the way to get to me. “Archer. You fucking asshole. You’re here.” He pulls me into a bear hug. When the bartender puts a glass in front of me, Chuck points at him. “Did you give him the good shit? This is my best mate right here.” He says mate in a terrible English accent. “This man right here saved my life. You remember that?”
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