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ChapterTwenty-Four
Jonathan
It’s late on Friday and I’m driving home from a work dinner. Christopher booked a private room at McAllister’s, and even after three courses, no one was in a rush to end the evening. It’s close to ten PM now and I should be heading home, but instead I’m en route to Alexander’s apartment.
He’s having people over, which means I’m about to walk into a madhouse. Alexander likes being the life of the party. His idea of a small gathering usually involves a group of forty.
I wouldn’t go at all except that it’d probably be good for me to get out of my head a little. I’ve been burning the candle at both ends since returning from Paris. With the semester at MIT in full swing and the problems with the Belle Haven project looming over me, not to mention the work we have going on around Boston and Cincinnati, I find myself with very little free time and very little patience, the last dregs of which have been eviscerated by Emelia.
Running isn’t cutting it anymore.
Extra time in the gym isn’t helping either.
I find myself completely at the mercy of my attraction to her as evidenced by that kiss in my office.
The kiss I’ve jerked off to twice since.
I turn up my radio and focus on driving. I’m only a few minutes away. Emmett’s been hounding me about being here all day. He hates these things as much as I do, but it’ll be good to see old friends.
Once I’m at Alexander’s building, I take the elevator up to his penthouse and hear the crowd even before the metal doors sweep open.
This is worse than I suspected, more reminiscent of a college frat party than a civilized night of revelry. People crowd into the foyer, none of whom I recognize. A flirtatious woman smiles at me as I pass, waving her fingers invitingly.
I pay her no mind as I trudge through the crowd looking for Emmett or Alexander. I find the latter in the kitchen, wedged between a girl’s legs. He’s got her propped up on the counter as he leans in to kiss her.
“This has to be against fire code.”
He breaks the kiss and looks back at me, grinning.
“No, c’mon, it’s a small group,” he argues.
Someone turns the music up in the living room, contradicting his point.
He rolls his eyes. “Right, maybe I should rein it in a bit.”
“Your neighbors have probably already called in a noise complaint.”
He groans and pushes away from the girl, hurrying into the living room to turn down the music.
“What are you, like a dad?” the girl asks me, clearly annoyed.
I hear a heavy laugh from behind me and turn to see Emmett pouring himself a drink from the bar in the corner. I walk over and steal the bottle of bourbon out of his hand, pouring myself a shot before handing it back to him.
“You’re late,” he says without looking over. “I’ve had to endure this party for the last half hour on my own.”
“You could have left.”
“There’s someone I’m waiting on.”
I look at him curiously, but he doesn’t elaborate.
“C’mon, let’s go to the sitting room. Collette and Harrison are in there.”
We fight our way through the crowd, and I wonder how Alexander even knows this many people in the States. Surely, he doesn’t. In all likelihood, he invited a few people, and they took it upon themselves to invite a few people. If I were him, I’d have kicked everyone out a long time ago, but apparently, he doesn’t care. He passes us by without a second glance on his way to collect the girl in the kitchen. His priorities lie elsewhere.
I’m relieved to find how quiet the sitting room is. It’s a nice night out so the balcony doors are open. Collette sits on the threshold like a gatekeeper, her head tipped back so she can look up at the sky. If she’s hunting for stars, she won’t find any in the city.
Harrison stands out by the railing, lighting a joint. “The king has arrived!” he says before doing a dramatic sweeping bow in Emmett’s honor.
