“I’m sure our dinner guests will be just as enthused as you are about your selections.”
I exited quickly and checked my Rolex. I needed to get out of this suit. As I walked through the main floor, people bustled past, waving and offering polite greetings. Remmy, my entertainment manager, stopped me.
“Mr. Gatsby, sir, there is a change in entertainment. The lead singer of the band you selected fell sick and had to cancel. I have reached out to the ballet company we had for next week and asked if they could switch dates, and perform this weekend instead.”
His brow was deeply furrowed in worry. I pat him on the shoulder.
“Thank you for letting me know. It sounds like you have everything handled. Just make sure they are given everything they requested in their contracts, with proper security.”
He relaxed instantly.
“Yes, sir. It’s nice to see a good host, even when there are deviations from the original plans.”
I smiled tightly. “My entire life has been one big deviation from original plans. We can wait to see the band another time. I’ve waited much longer for more important things.”
I took the elevator up to the fourth floor, where only I was allowed. I locked every door behind me as I went. Despite having my home open to the public three days a week and a full staff every day, I valued my privacy. Only I had keys to the elevator, which was the only way to get to the fourth floor. I’d made sure of it during the renovations.
I showered and changed from my business suit into jeans and a black t-shirt. I admired myself in the full-length wall mirror beside my bed. Even my casual clothes were designer. It was a far cry from the orange jumpsuit I’d donned for far too long. Glancing out the window, I watched the sun set on another lonely day, longing for what was just out of reach.
I went back downstairs, taking back halls and doors so as to not disrupt my staff working on our next party. Exiting my house, I inhaled the crisp, summer air. Checking around me to make sure I wasn’t being watched, I stepped off the cement of the stairs and walked down to the pier. I reached the very edge, letting the tips of my shoes hang off the wooden planks and looked up toward the moon.
I was so close to her now. Finally, my dreams were taking shape.
Was she looking at the same moon? Or was she safe in her mansion across the way, fast asleep?
I’d wanted to run to her the day I was released from prison. I’d been given an apology from the State of California, and the clothes I’d been arrested in, still covered in blood. Park was there on the other side with clean clothesand orders to help me figure everything out. He took me to the nearest bank to get my money, and I set off on the next part of the plan to get my Daisy back. I bought the house directly across from hers, renovated it to my liking, and then?—
I chickened out. I had a letter in my hands, ready to mail her, but I couldn’t go through with it. I tossed it in my fireplace and sobbed over my cowardice. Despite being proved innocent for the heinous crimes I’d been put on death row for, that wouldn’t change public opinion. I couldn’t show my name anywhere without strangers giving me looks of disgust and morbid curiosity. The questions were plain on their faces when they looked at me.
Did he really do it?
And that was when I realized I couldn’t go back to the life I’d thought I would. I’d have to become?—
“Gatsby!”
I spun around, away from the lake, to see Jules, out of his kitchen. “It’s time to greet our guest of honor.”
I nodded, shoving down my heartache and constant yearning for what I once had.
“He’s here already? Can’t I just see him tomorrow?” I’d never greeted a guest this late. Typically, our introductions were done once the drugs had worn off in the morning.
“I think this particular guest is one you’ll want to speak to. It’s not a him. It’s a her.”
I turned from the dock and joined him in returning to the house.
“Who is it?” I cocked an eyebrow in curiosity. While anyone could be served at my table, it was often times someone masc. So far, the only femme presenting people to have been selected had been my…
“Donna Verger.”
Rapist.
I paused, blinking rapidly. An array of emotions was hitting me hard and fast.
“Are you sure?”
Jules reached for my hands, squeezing them.
“Absolutely, it’s her.”
