stoplight go inside and get it over with, be there in 15!
Me
Drive safe, pretty girl
I watch as she reads the message, then lock my phone and slip it into the front pocket of my dress pants.
One more deep breath, and I run my now damp hands down my black dress pants. I open the door and peel myself out of the safety of my truck. I pull the sleeve of this ridiculous dress shirt down and straighten my tie. I grab my jacket from the passenger seat and shrug it on.
The thick air hits me immediately, and I wish the sun would set faster to break some of the heat. The black dress shirt has me baking under the full sun.
I hurry across the brick driveway, past the huge circle fountain in the middle and the big gold monstrosity behind it, an eagle or phoenix type of animal taking up much of the front of the house from my angle.
My all-black outfit contrasts with the subtle brick and light beige house, the multicolored stone lining the door to offset the rest of it. It’s a look I know Avery prefers. Not that my ex-girlfriend’s opinion should have been a factor, but knowing she would be here tonight, knowing how her eyes would heat up at what I chose…
Yeah, who am I kidding? It was the only factor.
I leisurely stroll up their seven-step staircase to the biggest door this side of the Mississippi has seen. The door begins to open before I can even reach it, someone in a suit hired for this event standing on the other side. He bows his head at me as I breeze by. A slight nod of my head makes me look like a dick as my nerves bounce in my stomach, but I’ll never let my face show.
My mask is on and firmly in place, the role my father expects me to play as his only son. Theheir.
As I stroll through the foyer, I take note of all the gleaming surfaces, not a single piece of dust to be found, not even a stray piece of mail lingering about.
The lightly painted walls are lined with various pieces of artwork my mother has collected over the years, following the grand staircase as it splits and rises to two separate wings of the house. The marble floors shine with a perfect polish, something I’m sure my mother had done this morning. I follow a path to the first living room on the main floor, where soft music is carried from the open back doors. Tonight, the party is an outdoor affair, the back glass walls of the house open completely so the patio looks like an extension of the living room.
The patio is done up with tables of flowers and drinks scattered about. People mill about, sipping champagne and dark-colored drinks from frosted tumblers. Most are dressed in full suits and soft cocktail dresses, more diamonds than I have ever seen shining off the women. An obnoxious rich man’s laugh echoes from every corner. My left eye twitches at the sound, already grating on my nerves. I take in the “small” dinner party of at least fifty people and roll my eyes—though I’m thankful for all the fanfare, since hopefully the heat will be off me tonight. I hope to blend straight into the crowd and keep my father from spotting me too quickly.
I take in the various servers with trays of food, then snag a champagne off one tray for Avery and a whiskey neat for me. I’m not much for alcohol, especially around my father, but it gives me something to hold while I avoid the numerous handshakes and fake back pats of his friends as he shows off his heir. The good ol’ boy routine I’ve come to expect.
I spot my mother somewhere on the back patio, near the long table used for hosting these events, as she laughs with agroup of her country club friends. I head that way to get the hellos out of the way, hoping Avery can find me easily when she gets here.
“Mother,” I say in greeting, leaning in to let her kiss my cheeks. She turns, and her face lights up at the sight of me.
“Finally, he comes home,” she says, pinching my cheeks, which is hilarious at her five-foot-two height to my six-four, but I let her anyway. My height comes from my father’s side. Her dark brown hair is up in some intricate twist, and her ears drip in diamonds—a new gift from my father, I assume. She’s dressed in a deep green dress that shows off her olive skin. My heart warms at the sight of her smiling and having a good day. I let her give me one more hug.
“Kane, you remember the girls. Girls, my son, whom I must beg to visit home nowadays.” She scolds me, pulling me slightly to the side, away from her group after a chorus of hellos.
“I’ve been busy, Mom.” I exhale, knowing I won’t be able to get away with that excuse for long.
It’s not that I don’t love my mother and wish I could see her more. Things have always been unpredictable with her. One day, she’s a loving and involved mother, and the next she’s defending and siding with my father. She would shield me from his worst moods, putting herself in the line of fire, but at the end of the day, she always stayed with him no matter what he put us through. My brain has a hard time reconciling both sides of her: the dutiful mother and his sidekick.
“You look handsome. And tired,” she muses, placing her hand on my cheek, then my forehead, as if she’s checking my temperature. “And where is Avery? It has been ages since we’ve seen her too.”
“She’s coming. She had to be at work late, so shedecided to just meet me here.” My gaze moves toward the front of the living room inside to see if she’s arrived yet. My heart falls a bit when I don’t see her. The urge to check my phone in my pocket is strong.
“Oh, Mary, wait!” my mom says, abandoning our conversation as she hurries after her friend.
I let out a breath and take a drink of my whiskey as I pull out my phone, but there’s nothing from Avery. Sighing, I lock my phone and slide it back into my pocket, then take another strong pull from my drink. The whiskey is smooth as it slides down, missing the burn I’m used to from the stuff at the bar.
I debate whether to call her when I glance up, and there she is. The world starts to fade a bit as I catch an eyeful of her.
Her long dark hair spills down and curls softly around her face. Light makeup highlights her features, and red lipstick draws attention to her delectable lips. I almost groan at the sight of them, the bold red against her pale skin. The stark contrast of colors makes her stand out in any room she’s in. I take a minute to drink her in, unashamed since she hasn’t seen me yet, as she talks to one of my mother’s friends, whom I’m sure she’s met dozens of times over the years at these things.
She wears a tight-fitted black dress that flows down to the floor, with a dangerous-looking slit coming up her left side that makes my heart stumble at the sight of her creamy pale thigh peeking through.
I want to follow that trail of freckles that goes up her inner thigh with my tongue.
There are thin straps across her shoulders, with her small but full breasts just peeking through the top, a sight I couldn’t miss. She wears black heels that give her a couplemore inches, and before I realize it, my legs are moving toward her.
