Jack
“We’ll take another round, honey.”Law winks at the cocktail waitress that’s been serving us for the past couple of hours. She’s been flirting with him since we walked in, and by the way he’s paid her extra attention, I’m guessing they know each other rather well.
He checks his phone for the time. “We can make this our last round and move on if you want. There’s a ridge-side bar with an incredible view. Pretty decent local bands play on weekends. Original stuff too, not just overplayed covers.”
Looking up, he waves at the two women who just walked by us for the third time. We’ve been at this cigar bar talking about his marketing vision for the Riggs brand for about an hour, and now that business is out of the way, I can tell he wants the night to move on.
“Should I ask them to join us?”
I give him a nonchalant tilt of my head. I’m not interested, but if he is, then I’ll go with the flow. Instead of asking them over, he carries on talking about The Strutt’s Peak Film Festival that hits their town every year. Also, it’s part of the reason that I’ve gathered as to why I’m staying at their place and not near the office or in a condo, with which ski towns tend to be riddled.
“The two women who just waved, the brunette is a director, and the redhead is her PA. Best friends turned lovers. Great girls. Definitely not interested in me joining them for any after-hours party. I got that message loud and clear when the redhead threw a coffee in my face last year.”
I look at him in a little disbelief at the douchebag assumption and can’t hold back a laugh.
“I’m lucky it was iced.” The memory has him wincing, and I only refrain from laughing until he continues with a shrug. “It’s fine. I apologized, and by the end of the night, I was helping them with their social media issues and talking about the best wine to pair with potato chips.”
“They're not all they're cracked up to be.” He raises his eyebrows. “Two women at once. It’s hot as hell, but if you do it right and make sure they're satisfied first, it ends up being really fucking exhausting.”
“No offense, but I’m not taking your word for it. I’d rather test it out and see if I share in that theory. Life goals, ya know?”
“Fair enough.” I cough out a laugh. It’s not the typical colleague chatter, but I’m learning that Law isn’t like most of the people I’ve worked with. None of the Riggs family that I’ve met so far are what I was expecting.
The last threesome I participated in ended up being a social media scandal that followed me around for far too long. I knew they were wealthy, but I had no clue they were technically royalty and any kind of sexualizing of royalty is very frowned upon. Let's just say it wasn’t worth the headache it created in the long run. My phone vibrates in my pocket.Speaking of headaches.
Lucifer:Your sister texted me asking where you are, so I’m assuming you haven’t been by to see them yet. She’s only texting me, because she knows I’ll respond immediately. Please tell me you are, in fact, in Colorado, like you’re supposed to be.
Jack:Yes, I’m here. I’ll call her first thing tomorrow. I'm just getting settled.
Lucifer:Today! Make it a priority, Jack. Or she’s going to text me again. I’m not your therapist or your secretary. Please handle your family shit.
She’s right. Not that there’s been much time since I’ve arrived in Strutt’s Peak to see my sister or nephew, but I did get distracted. They’ve been through enough shit lately, and the fact that they’re in the same town as this job means I get much-needed time with the most important people in my life. I should have made time to see them already, let alone tell her I was here already. Women and work never get in the way with what little family I have.
Jack:Can you do some digging for me?
Lucifer:No.
Jack:I need some details on Everly Riggs. What I can’t find on Google.
Lucifer:No. Do the fucking job and keep your dick in your pants, man-child.
Law hits my knee with the toe of his shoe to draw my attention back. “I’m a big fan of your work. Obviously. What should I know about you that isn’t properly curated online?”
I prefer to keep conversations like this one light and simple. The heavily edited online details are the only things I want people to find. The world doesn't need to know too much,dig too deep.
I always take a minute to decide what version of my life I’m willing to share with someone. Do they deserve the bird’s-eye view, the glossy version, or the truth?
“I grew up on the east coast, a small town in Connecticut not far from New York.”Bird’s-eye view, it is.“I went to RISD.” He raises his eyebrow. It’s not ivy, so pretty-boy here might not know it. “Rhode Island School of Design. I studied photography. I decided to stay in the Northeast and head into Manhattan. For the business I’m in, it makes the most sense. Got my MBA from Columbia and decided to stay in the city. It was either New York or L.A. I love the change in seasons. And the east coast does winters better than California ever can.”
“You haven’t seen a Colorado winter, then.”
“I haven’t, you’re right. And what about you?”
“I’m from here, but you already knew that.” He looks at me and knows that I’m already aware of where he’s from, but I know he’ll entertain the question. “Everyone assumes my old man pushed us all to be a part of the family business. He has a strong personality. You’ll know what I mean when you meet him, but it wasn’t like that. My dad never pushed his dream on any of us. We were all just smart enough to know a great thing to stand behind.”
The waitress's voice cuts in. “Law, you want me to close out your tab?”
He takes a sip from his Manhattan and smiles at her again. “You bet, honey. Tell Frank I said nice job on the cocktails tonight. Healmostgot the Manhattan perfect. Text me if you get off early, yeah?” He winks at her.