Rory visibly swallowed. “I wasn’t gonna impose on your families when they gotta look out for each other,” he said, as he wrapped his arms around himself. “Yourrealfamilies, like Mrs. B is gonna have now. I’m just—you know.” He awkwardly shrugged. “It’s just me.”
Oh, Christ. Arthur covered his face. “Jade, make him stop. I told him I’m angry and now he’s breaking my heart—it’s not fair play.”
Jade waved Arthur quiet. “Come on,” she said gently, to Rory. “Come inside and see if you still think you’rejust you.”
She took him by the hand and tugged. Rory furrowed his brow but obediently followed her.
Arthur followed just behind as they walked past the hall with the office and dressing room, down into the actual club. Stella was singing in dazzling sequins, and at the foot of her stage, two small round tables had been pushed together. The tables were covered in full glasses and several people were already crowded into the seats. Zhang’s cousin Ling was among them, looking lovely in a cloche hat, sitting close to Pavel in a nice suit and Sasha, whose new bob was held in place by a feathered headband. Pavel and Ling were talking together, while Sasha’s eyes were fixed on Stella and the band.
Jade clapped her hands once. “Drinks, pass out the drinks! Everyone together, at the foot of the stage!”
Arthur moved into the tight knot of his friends as waiters were suddenly passing around wide-brimmed champagne glasses. Arthur accepted one and took a sniff. Sparkling grape juice—he should have expected that at the paranormal table.
He snagged a passing waiter. “Pardon me,” he said, “but do you have anything else special to drink tonight? Maybe a little stronger? Ora lotstronger?”
The waiter nodded in understanding. “Be right back.”
Jade was speaking seriously with a flapper who had a cigar clenched between her teeth and a large camera in her hands. As Stella brought “Everybody Loves My Baby”to a close, her gaze fell on Rory, then to Jade questioningly. Jade nodded, and Stella smiled wickedly, and Arthur was pretty sure he heard someone in the crowd swoon.
She turned to her band and said something too quiet for the crowd. Then she turned around. “And now for a little something special,” she said, leaning forward to accept the glass Zhang held up to the stage for her. She raised her glass. “A toast! To a young man turning twenty-onetoday.”
The spotlight swiveled and suddenly lit up their group and especially Rory, whose eyes went very wide behind his glasses.
“Cute fella,” said the flapper around her cigar, and snapped the camera.
There was a blinding flash in the dark club that left Arthur blinking. A moment later, the band struck up its first notes, and Stella grinned and began to sing. “Happy birthday...”
Rory went scarlet. Stella’s voice turned the simple song into a masterpiece as tipsy cheers and whistles came from the speakeasy crowd. Rory covered his face with his hands, watching Stella through his fingers, his face lit with a smile that went straight to Arthur’s heart.
Then Rory looked over at Arthur, and their eyes met. And despite his own hurt feelings, Arthur felt an overwhelming rush of affection. He raised his grape juice. “To you, sweetheart,” he said, too quietly to be heard in the crowd.
The spotlight swiveled to Stella again, leaving the rest of them in the softer dark. Jade tugged Rory toward Sasha, Pavel, and Ling. As he passed, Rory’s hand drifted out, and his fingers brushed Arthur’s, casual enough to be ignored by anyone watching, gentle as a breeze ruffling the leaves.
The secret touch still sent sparks like electricity through Arthur. He gritted his teeth, his emotions a tumultuous mess.
He watched Sasha and Ling enthusiastically hug Rory the way he couldn’t in public. What a good thing it was Arthur didn’t get jealous, because this certainly would be a moment he might feel jealousy. If he were that type of man. Which he wasn’t, so of course he wasn’t jealous as Ling pointed out Rory’s bow tie to Sasha, and really, had girls always been this fond of Rory?
There was a polite throat clearing at his side. “Your drink, sir.”
“Thank Christ.” Arthur turned to find the waiter, and plucked a cocktail glass off his tray, setting his untouched juice in its place. He brought the cocktail to his nose and smelled the bright scent of oranges. “What’s this?”
“The bartender’s calling it a Russian, sir.”
“And what’s in—never mind, I don’t actually care, I’m going to drink it regardless.” Arthur took a small sip, tasting orange juice and very little burn. “Not too strong, is it?”
“Well, actually—”
“Thank you.” Arthur tapped the glass. “Keep these coming, please.”
As the waiter disappeared, Arthur took another experimental sip. There was a faint licorice taste, perhaps from absinthe. There was a taste to remind him of Paris. Paris, where there would be a world’s fair with paranormals. Where he might have to go and couldn’t take Rory, even if Rory would apparently rather work himself to the bone than borrow Arthur’s bed.
On the other side of the table, Sasha tugged at one of Rory’s curls, making Rory smile.
Arthur took a bigger sip.
By one in the morning, Rory was contentedly slouched in a chair at the foot of the stage. It was warm in the club, and Stella had finished for the night, the band playing a soft instrumental cover of “The Man I Love,” one of Rory’s favorites. Some of the tables near the bar had been shoved away and couples were slow dancing. On his left, Zhang and Ling were chatting in Chinese, their words washing pleasantly over him.
It was nice to be off his sore feet, which he’d propped up on one of the other chairs as he helped himself to the last of their tables’ canapes. But as he popped another pastry pig in his mouth, Jade was suddenly taking the seat to his left.
