Chapter Three
JULIAN
“Remind me why I have to come to this stupid gala?” Eli grumbles as he tugs at his bow tie with a grunt. Once he’s loosened that, he goes back to adjusting his black and silver masquerade mask. He hated wearing formal attire, and only wore a suit in the office because I’d insisted. Usually he wore boots, jeans and a worn T-shirt that wasn’t even legible anymore but that wasn’t going to cut it here at the Newtown Plaza hotel, one of the most exclusive venues in the city.
The ostentatious marble floors and huge black pillars made this the perfect place for a charity dinner. The theme had clearly been Venetian inspired, as decadent centerpieces with feathers and gold adorned every table. Opulent gift bags were placed at each seat, and a large orchestra played, filling the hall with beautiful music. The masquerade gala dinner was nothing more than an excuse for the rich and famous to peacock and preen, flaunting their wealth under the guise of doing good for the city. I shouldn’t be so bitter, since my firm and my family were benefactors, but sometimes I didn’t understand why donations couldn’t be made without all the pomp and showboating. I mean, I wasn’t any less generous out of a white mask with gold edge embellishments, so what was the point of it all?
Chuckling, I tilt my glass towards him. “Because not only are you my friend, but I also pay your salary. And as my bodyguard, you should be here. Protecting my body.”
Snorting, Eli narrows his eyes at me through the mask’s holes. “Did you get hit on the head when I wasn’t looking?”
“No,” I sigh. “I’m just not in the mood for all of this tonight. And my date is like an octopus.”
I’d brought along an actress I’d met a few weeks ago, at the opening of a new bar called The Blue Caterpillar. I wasn’t looking for a date when I met her, I’d been there scouting out the bar and getting to know the owners, the Volkov twins. Their father, Lev, was a weapons supplier for us, importing goods from Russia as part of his role in the Bratva. Lev however had been quiet recently, and we hadn’t met in person for almost two years now and so I hoped I might run into him at the quaint new cocktail bar. No such luck, but Alexi Volkov did manage to introduce me to tonight’s date, Madison Miller. What I hadn’t realized was that she was determined to make herself the next Mrs. Asaro, viewing my bachelor status as a challenge. She was hell-bent on getting her claws into me, and in the car on the way over I barely managed to keep my dick in my pants, not for lack of trying.
“Yeah, I noticed she was a little handsy.” Eli’s shoulders shake as he laughs, glancing over to our table where she’s obviously gushing about me with another actress, whose face I recognize, but the name escapes me.
“A little?” I scoff as I order another scotch at the bar, where we’re perched. I quickly knock it back and tap my hands on the counter for another. “If I didn’t know she was from Fort Windermere I would have sworn she was some Hindu goddess, desperate to make me worship at her altar.”
Every time I tried to move away it was like she grew another pair of hands. Hands that just kept stroking, and grabbing and pulling at me like she was trying to climb into my tux with me. Her lips against my skin as she whispered filthy things in my ear, despite Elijah being sat right next to us.
Eli gives her another look over, this one more appreciative as a flash of interest in his black eyes. “Hey man, don’t knock it. Magic hands are always a bonus in my book.”
“Yeah, well maybe you should dance with her then.” I really didn’t want to. I mean, I would, because I was a gentleman and it was all part of the persona of Julian Asaro, lawyer, philanthropist, and spokesperson for the city. Plus, it would look good in the gossip columns tomorrow, even if that reporter Oliver Staddon didn’t know his ass from his elbow when he wrote about me. I guess I should be a little more grateful, since his articles seemed to imply I was a soft hearted man holding out for the ‘one’, rather than the truth which was I only had casual sex complete with signed NDA’s because I had a mafia organization to run and an insane jilted teen bride stalking me.
“She isn’t my date, and as you already pointed out-—I’m here to work.” Handing me a glass of soda water, he gives me a look. One that says ‘You’re here to work too, lay off the whiskey.’
“Fuck you,” I growl under my breath as I accept the glass, even though the shit tastes like TV static and sadness.
Taking a deep breath, I turn towards a group of politicians a few feet away from us when one of them calls my name. “Gentlemen, a pleasure to see you all here this evening. And for such a great cause!”
And so, the schmoozing continues. I spend the next two hours shaking hands and talking to what feels like every single person in this room between food courses and drinks. My cheeks have been kissed, my back slapped, my hands have been shaken so much they now just move up and down on their own. My cheeks hurt from smiling and laughing at awful jokes, but this is who I am and what I do. And I do it excellently.
It isn’t until the dancing begins that I realize I can’t find Maddison and Eli has done his usual thing of vanishing into the shadows, trying to avoid socializing. Bastard. I suppose that lets me off the hook from the dancefloor for a while as I meander through the crowd back to the bar, letting out a small sigh as I manage to polish off another scotch without Eli breathing down my neck.
As I sit nursing a second sneaky glass, a petite brunette approaches me with a small smile. She’s wearing a black strapless gown that hugs her ample figure, her cleavage inviting and decorated with gold chains that drape from a thick solid gold choker, across her collarbone and down over her bare shoulders. Her mask is the opposite to mine, but equally elegant in black with gold filigree embellishments. We look like a couple, like the embodiment of yin and yang, as she takes a seat at the bar beside me.
“Excuse me.” Her voice is gentle and soothing, something about it echoes in my mind. “I hope you don’t mind but your date had to step out and take a phone call, something about a new casting?”
I blink, privately relieved. “Oh, thank you for letting me know.”
Looking up at me with big brown eyes, she bites down on her bottom lip nervously. The pink flesh is darker and swollen when she finally releases it. “Would you like to dance? I mean, just while your date is…otherwise occupied? I’m not sure if she’s territorial over you, so I thought I would ask now, while I have the opportunity.”
She grins and something about that makes me relax. Her gorgeous body doesn’t hurt either. Maybe she’d be willing to fill in a non-disclosure and come home with me tonight? That is, if I could get Maddison to give up on her insane quest to get her feet under my table.
“Have you been waiting for her to leave before you approached?” I tease, enjoying the way she nudges me with a soft laugh.
Offering her my arm, I lead us to the dancefloor where I don’t hesitate to bring her into my chest and begin swaying us to the hypnotic medley the orchestra is playing. She smells like roses and cherries, there’s a hint of cinnamon clinging to soft skin as I hold her in my arms.
We dance in silence, one song morphing into the next but I’m unwilling to end it yet. As the next song begins, I spin her out and pull her back into me once again, like she belonged with me. She throws her head back and laughs, and it makes my chest tighten. There’s something oddly familiar about the small woman in my arms, something that feels like I’ve done this before. “Do I know you?”
“Hmmm, I don’t know. Do you?” She tilts her head, and it’s like it’s there. On the periphery. Just out of reach.
She reminds me of that night. The smell of roses. The cinnamon. The little laugh. I spin her around, watching her carefully before putting my hands back on her waist. “You remind me of someone…but she was blonde. With green eyes.”
“All things that can be easily changed Jay.” Her voice is smoother now, less innocent as she pulls me closer. “Besides, I noticed you have a preference for brunettes and I wasn’t sure you’d dance with me otherwise.”
We’re now dancing so close to one another that we’re practically inches away from making out in front of all of Newtown’s elite.
“Rosie?” I hiss, tightening my grip on her. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Awh, is that any way to greet your ex-fiancé?” Her warmth breath tingles, skirting over my skin as she looks up at me, and it’s killing me that half of her face is hidden by a stupid mask. Ten years. It’s been ten years since that young girl in the garden had vanished, and now I wanted to see the depraved monster left behind. The one I helped create.