Page 225
Story: Men of Fort Dale
The problem, as so often with Philip, lay in what was considered important. David had tried to understand that, for Philip, the importance of his duties and job lay in good presentation. After all, Command really only cared if things went wrong, with only the occasional notice of an exemplary job well done. But it had begun to wear on David’s nerves, whose duty, in his mind, was to take care of the men and women in his charge. Those viewpoints rarely found common ground, and David couldn’t wait to get Philip out of his hair and into a position where he would be far more comfortable and flourish.
“As well as he can,” David finally said.
Nito eyed him, snorting softly. “Don’t think I haven’t forgotten our previous conversation.”
“I wasn’t attempting to remind you, either. If I wanted to do that, I would say so...admittedly, not here and now.”
“No, I suppose not. I’m still giving it thought.”
David looked around, realizing he should socialize before the Gala officially started. It was one of the few things about the evening he enjoyed. Stuck in his office as often as he was or on calls and in meetings, he very rarely had the chance to meet the soldiers he was in charge of. For them, the Gala was a social event to be enjoyed and soaked up, and it meant he saw them at their most relaxed. It was the one way he knew he was doing something right.
“By all means, give it thought, and then even more. Meanwhile, I am going to attend to my social duties,” David said, setting his glass aside to step down from the dais.
“Have fun. I’m going to continue drinking quietly in a corner.”
“I’ll consider doing the sameafterthe speech,” David said.
David leaned,practically sagging over the bar as he eyed the trio of bartenders. He had to admit, there was something hypnotic about watching the three men as they dodged, weaved, and swerved around one another with little more than the occasional word of warning.
When he finally caught one’s attention, he ordered himself a whiskey, double if they would, on the rocks. His entire speech had gone off without a hitch and with the same predictable pattern. Open with a greeting to all in attendance, bring special attention to the higher-ups who’d come, and begin the magnanimous speech that applauded the efforts and successes of Fort Dale. It was nothing special, and the only difference between each year’s speech was the detail of the achievements. He made sure to keep it short, knowing damn well no one came to the Gala to listen to him drone on. Speeches weren’t his forte, but despite memorizing most of the speech, he always walked away tense and with a dry throat.
“Thank you,” he said as he was handed his glass within seconds.
It wasn’t the whiskey he kept in his private supply but damned if that first sip of liquor wasn’t the most welcome sensation he’d had all night. He turned his gaze to the rest of the hall, watching as the meals were brought to the tables, alongwith drink orders. It had been Christian’s idea to spend a little extra and bring in servers for the drinks to prevent the inevitable traffic jam with large groups and an open bar.
David frowned, realizing he hadn’t seen Christian all night. It made sense when Christian was busy running around behind the scenes, keeping the details neat and orderly, while David kept to the front of the house. But he would have expected the younger man to have appeared by the time the food was served, but he had not seen a glimpse of that familiar blond head.
Taking his glass with him, he walked around the large room. His eyes darted left and right, looking at tables where people stood talking. Though he checked everyone, David’s worry deepened as he never once spotted Christian. He made another circuit, waving and greeting people, but still couldn’t find him. Messages from Christian had stopped shortly before the start of the speech, so David had no idea where the man had disappeared.
Slipping through the door behind the catering tables, David stepped into the noisy kitchen. Mindful that he could get in the way, he stayed to the edge as he looked around and again found nothing.
One of the passing chefs looked up. “Everything alright?”
“Looking for someone,” David said.
The man frowned. “If you’re looking for the slave driver, he said something about getting some air.”
David chuckled. “I see things have been interesting.”
The man grunted, turning away with what sounded like muttered curses. Smiling, David exited through the side door and into the hallway. He knew the building well, having had to host an annual Gala and other smaller functions, but its main purpose was to feed the soldiers on the base. He didn’t get to visit casually as often as he would like, but he’d done it enough for over a decade to know the layout.
Which meant he also had a good idea where Christian had disappeared to.
Moving further from the sound of the party, David mounted the stairs at the end of the hallway. The second floor was used for smaller parties or important meetings that couldn’t be done in his office. At the far end, one of the rooms had a balcony that looked out over the sea. It was his favorite place to take special guests, though usually only for events that required a certain degree of sobriety.
Walking swiftly down the carpeted hallway, he found the door at the end of the hall open a crack. Pushing it wide, he stepped into the dimly lit room. The plush couches and armchairs sat in the moonlight, streaming through the open double doors at the back of the room. A shadow moved, a man shifting position and bending to lean on the rail surrounding the balcony.
Smiling, David walked forward, lips parting to greet Christian softly. He stopped just short of the doorway as he caught sight of the man, words dying before they reached his lips.
Christian stood, bent over, his elbows resting on the stone rail. The young man was looking out at the ocean, though the distant look in his eyes said he wasn’t actually seeing the scenery. Half his face was hidden, but the half he could see looked irritated and worn out. Christian’s hair had grown out enough that David could see it was in disarray, little tufts sticking up as though Christian had been running his hands through it. There was a line of cooling sweat at his temple and a black smudge along his cheek. His uniform was askew, the collar open to reveal a once pristine, now stained, white shirt beneath it. The moonlight caught the blond scruff of his five o’clock shadow, completing the look. No doubt, Christian would say he looked an absolute mess.
To David, Christian was breathtaking.
Christian frowned, turning to face him with a sharp jerk. His blue eyes were shadowed as he turned from the moonlight. His bunched shoulders eased when he saw David standing in the room, a soft sound escaping him.
“Oh, it’s you,” Christian said.
“Sorry to disappoint?” David wondered.
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