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She took his hand and stepped out. The house was large and the well-heeled crowd who were lined up to get inside weren’t the poshest she’d mixed with but that had been old Angelica. The woman who had been sure of her worth and her place in the world.
That woman was gone and though her brother Nico had suggested that with time she’d seen what had happened as a growth moment, she was struggling to put that spin on it. She was tired of having to smile and act demure and apologetic when inside, honestly, she wasn’t. She didn’t want to have to apologize for the woman she was.
And if things went well tonight, she wouldn’t have to anymore. She could start rebuilding her reputation and get back to doing what she loved. Creating art that made a difference in lives. Though everyone knew her business wasn’t doing well, no one knew she hadn’t been able to make anything since that video had gone viral and that was what made her determined to figure out how to start over, because without her art she felt like she was nothing.
*
“I thought yousaid this would be a small gathering,” Max Parrish said to his best friend and business partner Reg Harden. They, along with two other friends, had formed an investment consortium using their trust funds at first to create nightclubs and then after his brother’s death from a drug overdose…they’d changed their focus. They’d moved away from the party scene and more into rebuilding broken communities. Reg accused Max of trying to save the brother he’d lost and maybe his friend was right, but more than that Max needed to feel like he was leaving the world with something other than a good time.
“It’s small compared to a Beverly Hills party,” he said. “There is money in Whiskey River and the community does a lot of charitable work but they’ve ignored The Barrels. I think we might provide the impetus they need to start looking after it.”
“I like the idea. Logan has been saying for years that it needs to be razed to the ground but we know that’s his own past talking… It’s so hard to see beyond our own needs when it comes to actions like this. Do you think someone in this crowd is going to help? Or are they just coming out of curiosity?”
Logan Calloway was a Hollywood legend and local Whiskey River guy who’d grown up in The Barrels. Max and Reg had gotten to know him working with their Second Start program. Logan had put both his star power and his money behind them. Which had helped them reach more people. Max, thanks to his family, had connections to the top one percent in society but it took more than money to really make a difference.
“Here’s hoping,” Reg said. “If not, we could use a party to get us in the holiday spirit.”
They had been working hard for the last few years. The pandemic had really shaken a lot of communities, leaving them vulnerable. And Second Start had stepped in, planting community gardens to give anyone who couldn’t stay shut in their home a place to get outside and something to do. They had also built sports clubs and other community centers to give people a safe place to go if they couldn’t stay in their homes. He was proud of the work he’d done.
He had felt that if his brother were still alive, working with the Second Start program would have really helped him as he’d struggled with his addiction. Anytime Cal hadn’t had something to occupy his mind and his body, he turned to drugs. And one hit was all it took to start that downward spiral again.
He knew that everything he did was to give that second chance to someone else. In real life he’d given Cal many second chances but had drawn the line the last time he’d come calling. And that line had led to his brother’s death.
He shook his head. “Let’s get a drink and get this party started.”
He wasn’t going to spend the night in his own mind and in the past. Cal had made his own choices, just as Max was now making his.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Reg said. He wore a black Hugo Boss suit and festive red tie. He had his dark hair slicked back the way he liked to wear it.
Max glanced at his own reflection as they walked past the mirror. He had made no allowances for the holiday. He wore a navy suit with a gray tie. It was what he favored.
The entire house had been decorated for Christmas and all of the rooms on the ground floor were open for the party. The marble foyer with the grand staircase had been decorated with a large tree that stood all the way up to the top floor in the atrium. A three-piece jazz ensemble was playing versions of classic Christmas tunes. Max stayed where he was on the balcony as Reg went down to mix with their guests.
Everyone was dressed in cocktail attire and uniformed staff circulated among them with trays of cranberry martinis and champagne. He realized that he was tired. His mission to rebuild communities and give second chances wasn’t working as well as he hoped. The gnawing guilt that he ignored most of the time was still there. And now he had the added bonus of being bored with doing good deeds.
He heard the tinkling sound of laughter. Skimming the crowd he tried to find the source of it. He was surprised when the woman with the smiling eyes and joyful laughter wasn’t what he expected. She wore a white wool suit that hugged her slim figure. She had on a pair of Christmas red heels and her blondish-brown hair was pulled back tightly at the back of her head. Her skin was white like alabaster, but her brows were thick and brown, and her lips were the same shade of red as her heels. She put her arm around the woman next to her who wore a sparkly sleeveless dress and had her hair pulled back in a bouncy ponytail.
Max would never have guessed the two of them were together. They intrigued him. He waited and saw them bend their heads close together again, then she laughed. A jolt of sensual energy went through him and he didn’t feel bored anymore or sick of these kinds of parties.
He went down the stairs determined to meet the woman with the enchanting laugh. There was something about her… He didn’t dwell on it because past experience had taught him this feeling never lasted long, but he really only needed it for tonight. Tomorrow he’d jet off to another town and another party and another woman.
*
“We did it,”Cosima said. “You were right. They didn’t quibble over the invitation. And you look so dramatic and sexy that guy was never going to say no to you.”
Angelica shook her head. “I was sweating the entire time. I may have overdone it with this wool suit.”
“Why didn’t you wear that cocktail dress I sent you?” Cosima asked. “Though I do love this look.”
“Just wanted to be different,” she said hoping Cosima would buy the breezy note in her voice and not push. But it was true. She did want to be different, just not from the crowd as she hoped her cousin would think. She wanted to be different from the woman she had been.
She snagged two glasses of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter and handed one to Cosima.
“To us,” Cosima said.
“To us and a miracle,” Angelica added.
“You came here looking for miracles?” a deep masculine voice asked as he lifted his own champagne glass and clinked it against both of theirs.
