“Does it look like I care about the excuse?” I hear a loud New York accent bellow from the kitchen. Luce, who Jack lovingly refers to as “Lucifer,” is making a grown man cry right before my eyes. “You are supposed to have a ratio of one waiter per five guests and you’re telling me people have called in sick? Not my problem. Figure out your solution or you do not get paid. And I will hunt you down myself after everyone has gone home to make sure your life is miserable if you are unable to figure this out. DO YOUR JOB.”
I interrupt. “Luce. Looking as terrifying as ever.” I move toward her and give her a hug hello. She’s intimidating as hell, but what a force to have on your side. She’s helped me out on a few occasions with some VIP requests that I had no idea how to make happen. Plus, she’s been running the New York office of Everly’s new apparel brand. She’s practically family now too.
“Henry. You’re late. I need you to go deal with Jack and the kid.” I look down at her, thinking,what kid?“Benny. Apparently, Benny just got dumped by the woman he was with in Costa Rica for the past couple of months and he’s”—she leans closer to whisper—“crying. I don’t know how to navigate men crying.” She looks at the waitstaff manager, who she was just berating. “Anyway, your suit jackets are up in the guest suite too. Please bring up Scotch or something to make it better while I handle this.”
“On it,” Michael says from behind me. He goes right to the bar cart and grabs a few shot glasses and a bottle of Crowne.
“Place looks great, Luce,” I tell her as we move toward the grand staircase.
She waves me off and continues to unleash hell on the few people within earshot who aren’t moving fast enough for her. She’s clearly the maestro here today. There’re massive arrangements of white flowers shuffling in from the front door as we move upstairs. I hear glasses clinking, bottles of champagne opening. There’s music being soundcheck from the back tented space. It’s coordinated chaos, but it’s clear that everything is being handled.
I double tap the door to the master suite at the end of the second-floor hallway, and hear Jack yell out to come in.
“She just said it was over,” Benny, Jack’s nephew, says as we step into the suite. He looks up and wipes quickly under his eyes.
“Hey, guys,” Jack greets us.
We tell him the place looks great and move around the space to sit. There’s a massive sitting area across from their bed and next to the ensuite bathroom. A wall of televisions, each playing an array of college football games, a spread of food, from wings to pizza, and a kegerator tapped with Strutt’s Peak Brewery’s double IPA.
Now that I see what’s here, I regret doing anything today other than parking my ass right on that couch. Michael moves to sit next to Benny, and they speak to each other quietly as I sit beside Jack.
“You ready for the show downstairs?” I ask Jack.
Smiling wide, he says, “Of course.” He takes a sip from his tumbler of Scotch. “Luce raising hell down there?”
“Of course.”
“Okay, we’ve got about ten minutes to get our jackets on, have a drink of whatever Michael brought upstairs, and then head down to finish what Luce needs before people arrive at eight.”
“Benny, you okay, man?” Law asks. Michael gives him a look, as if to say, “why’d you ask that?”
“I’ll be fine. Just a girl. Right, Uncle Jack?” he says.
“Until it’s the right one, it’sjusta girl,” Jack says. “Plenty more out there.” He nudges his head toward the door. “Plenty more down there soon too. Let’s have some fun tonight, yeah?”
Michael claps Benny on the shoulder.
Law pours out a shot for each of us, Benny too. He’s not twenty-one yet, but that kid is more mature than the lot of us. “Cheers, my brother. To you,” Law says. We lift our glasses. Then Michael says, “To us.”
And with the flick of a shot glass, and the burn that glides down my throat, the night is ready to begin.
* * *
It’s 8:30 p.m. and most guests have arrived.
I mingle around the room, grabbing a drink from the cocktail waitress.
When I look down at my watch again, it’s 8:45.
I haven’t seen her yet. I’m not going to pretend like I don’t immediately find her in a room wherever we go, or keep an ear perked for her voice. I won’t pretend that the way she looked at me the last time I saw her, when I held up the remote to her vibrating panties, that it didn’t light me up. The look of desire, anger, and even need swirled in those big brown eyes of hers. I wonder if she kept them. Those panties were the boldest move I’d made in nine years.
Before that, it was only ever innuendos and antagonizing conversations. Every so often, I'd find myself in a moment when I’d consider throwing in the towel. Walking away from the responsibility of looking after her. Allow myself a chance at finding someone else. It would happen after seeing her too many days in a row, or if I watched for too long and spotted her happy with someone else. Those times, the reasons behind not being together faded enough, and I considered the extremes. Taking her in my arms or just walking completely away. But like clockwork, Agent Harper would do a check-in. And I was reminded of the entire situation. Reminded how much I’d grown even more attached. Cared more. Watched more closely.
The dumbest thing I ever did was follow these rules. Hers. Agent Harper’s. Hell, even my own. I’m waiting and watching the clock for the arrival of a woman I shouldn’t want anymore. Time should have pushed her out of focus. It should have, but it didn’t. Instead, I watch the clock. I wait for her. I look for her. I still want her. And fuck, tonight feels like a good night to break some rules.
By 8:50, I see Everly, dressed in gold from head to toe, wrapped around Jack’s waist as they talk with David Muldowney, and his son, Callen. I couldn’t tell you the first thing about what kind of dress or hat thing Everly has on, but I’ll never forget seeing the smile she’s wearing tonight. She’s never been happier. If there was anyone who deserved that type of happiness, it’s my sister. She keeps us all together. Binds us unknowingly, whether through Riggs Outdoor or just the consistency of being woven into our lives.
“You’re not going to believe this. Shelley Farley just showed up with the mayor. You believe that shit? She’s still hot as fuck, but seriously,him?” Law gags. I bark out a laugh. “I need to get out of this town.” He elbows me. “You know I hit that like a year ago, right?”