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"You are a vision, darling."
She's used to these events, having organized a bunch of them herself, as every society woman has. But this is her first time as Matthias Baxter's fiancée in his home of New York.
This isn't Sydney.
New York City is a vulture's nest and they're always hungry.
My hand locks onto the small of her back as we make our way inside to The Grand Ballroom.
"Come on, let's get you a drink," I whisper, hoping the sound of my voice can act as her anchor.
Over the last week, I've caught her a few times on the precipice of an anxiety attack, and the best thing I've found is to try to ground her in an action. Sipping a drink helps, as well most simple but physical tasks with her hands.
On our twenty-foot walk to the bar we're stopped three times. Old socialites fawning over her, pretending they're not judging every last thing about her.
It makes me sick.
Thankfully, Kaine Ashley and his wife Jade find us at the bar. Jade is like the New York version of My-Linh, sunshine and sweetness.
She puts Clarissa instantly at ease, and it makes me wonder if My-Linh will ever welcome Clarissa the same way. I wouldn't blame her if she didn't, though.
My conversation with Kaine falls naturally into business, and we talk about the problems we've met with a joint project we're working on. In the corner of my eye, I see Jade pull Clarissa aside to chat. Eventually they wander away, but as long as she's with Jade, I don't feel a need to chase after her. It's been a while since Clarissa has been in a place like this, and with all the things that are happening with her, at any point someone could approach her with a topic she doesn't want to talk about and I'd prefer to be there to run interference if she needs it.
Kaine is about as talkative as Kingsley is, so once the work part of our conversation comes to the end, we make small talk that soon fades to a comfortable silence. I'm happy to see him though. He's so different to the man I first met ten years ago. We were both so green back then, but him especially as he had come from a different upbringing all together. He was forever hiding behind a hoodie to spare the public from seeing the scars he'd obtained in the house fire that had taken his family.
Under the love of Jade, he has grown into a powerful man to match the business mogul. Three kids later, Kaine and Jade are a constant but positive influence on the scene in New York City.
I'm about to ask if he wants a refill on his drink when I feel a third person joins us.
Even without looking my skin crawls.
"Gentlemen." Somehow Patrick interrupts even though Kaine and I aren't even speaking. "Lovely night, isn't it."
Kaine has no control of his face, so he just lifts his drink to me and walks away.
"Thanks, man, I'll return the favor sometime," I shout after him, feeling no need to maintain any semblance of civility with Patrick.
I had little respect for him, even before I saw him hit Clarissa. Now that I've read about his professional and personal exploits, I wouldn't dirty my shoe stomping on his slimy face. "What do you want?"
"I just came over to say hello. We're practically brothers, you know," he sniffs, and whips his nose on his sleeve. He's probably ten drinks in, making him stupider than usual.
"I have enough brothers. See you, Patrick." Just seeing him reminds me of all the things I'd read about, and it wouldn't take much to reach out and snap his neck. But I'm not interested in a quick death. I want to watch the life drip out of him drop by drop. While I watch. Swilling a glass of Louis XIII in his honor.
"I'm just saying, I see you're engaged to Clarissa now. First Damien, then me, now you. We might as well be brothers, all sharing that slut."
I grit my teeth.
He's baiting me.
And if I bite, I'll have let him win. And I owe it to Clarissa not to let that happen.
"Actually, as I hear it, you were never even in the running. You forget, I saw you, Patrick." I spit out his name like its rancid wine. "As I recall, you were so desperate that she wouldn't sleep with you, that you weren't above trying to force her. That's not very gentlemanly of you." I take a sip of my drink, taking a beat to calm down. "At least my brother and I closed the deal you never could. Maybe that's why our name is on the banner over there"—I point to the sponsors banner with the Baxter logo on it—"and you had to beg for an invitation."
His face crinkles into an ugly mask. "You asshole. You think you're so slick—"
"Actually, no. I don't. I just think I'm not a shit man. I got my woman and took care of her. While your face still carries the shape of my fist. Do yourself a favor, stay the fuck away from the both of us."
His nostrils flare and steam. "You're going to regret ever coming here, English scum, you should've finished me off when you had the chance."
