Chapter 19
Gatsby
The music filtered up from downstairs, taunting my cowardice. I glanced at my watch and continued to pace. The party was well underway, with everything perfect. Well, other than the dessert. I went to the window and looked out at Neal’s modest home. All the lights were off. I’d watched them walk over earlier, so I knew they had, in fact, gotten their invitation.
I apologized to my staff shortly before the doors opened this evening. I’d been short with all of them over the need for perfection this week, and it was unfair to them, especially Jules. I’d pulled him in after my dance with Daisy to apologize privately. I’d drastically overreacted. He understood.
“One day, when you have your Daisy, we will laugh at this, Gatsby,” he told me.
I hoped he was right.
I walked from the window, steeling myself, and left the safety of my office.
I’d never actually attended one of my parties.
There’s no party like a Gatsby party, I’d heard somewhere .
I chuckled at my own joke, and when the elevator doors opened, I greeted the guests with a smile. They were dancing and laughing and barely noticed me. I was just another attendee. It was one of the perks of having a hundred-year-old playbook to work with.
I made my way through the dance floor. Picking up a champagne flute from a tray, I sipped as I mingled. The very act felt foreign and fake, but I needed to blend in. I was here to be noticed by only one person. Letting the rest of the party know my face would ruin everything. I kept up the ruse of the average party-goer until I took a break, using a secret hall to go upstairs for a moment.
I checked myself in a hallway mirror, straightening my jacket and brushing my hair into place. I checked the time. I still hadn’t seen Neal, but the night was still young. Most people didn’t even begin to leave until sunrise.
How was the real party going?
I opted to sneak across the mansion, up two flights, and past several layers of locked doors to check in on things. Locking the doors behind me every step of the way, I reached the most secret room of the house and unlocked it.
Screams of torture reached my ears the moment I began to pull the door open. I beamed as I stepped inside and locked the door again.
“How is dinner going?” I shouted over the screaming man, scanning the table before stepping forward. “Ooh, is that fresh bread?”
I left in the middle of the feast, the guest of honor still screaming and pleading for his life. Locking the doors behind me, I returned to the bustling party as if I’d seen nothing, walking with renewed vigor. I think I’d needed to see my work in action to calm me.
This was all part of a much larger plan.
I came through the door that led right into the ballroom and as I turned around, key in hand, I was greeted by someone in a plum-colored suit.
“The elusive Gatsby.” They stepped out of the shadows.
“And you are?” I eyed the androgenous-looking person cautiously. How did they know my name?
“Tuth, they/them. Care to join me for a drink? Don’t worry, I won’t tell your secret.” They winked at me.
“What secret?” I straightened, my gaze narrowing.
“Daisy Lovelace.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded, waving my arm toward the bar on the far side of the room. “A drink sounds lovely.”
Tuth ordered for us at the bar. We took our drinks, and I offered to take them up to another level to talk more privately.
“We won’t have to scream!” I yelled over the party. They offered me their arm, and together, we went upstairs to a lounge only I and my staff had access to.
“So, tell me, Tuth, why are you here?” I asked once the door was shut.
They laughed. “For the party, naturally. I’ve been a few times. This one is by far one of the best. Those little desserts being passed around? Fucking amazing.”
I sipped my drink.
“But no, I should confess I have been coming to these to look for you.”
“For me? Why is that?”
“Because I’ve read the fucking book.” They smirked. “The parallels are elementary shit. Daisy, Gatsby, the green lights on both of your piers. Her tattoo, your parties.” They plopped down on a chair, tossing their legs up on the arm. “I will admit though, it wasn’t until I saw Neal’s personal invite that I was sure of what you were doing.”
I nodded thoughtfully. “Who are you exactly?”
They swung their legs onto the floor and sat up. “I’m your Jordan.”
“Excuse me?”
“Jordan Baker, Daisy’s best friend. That’s not my actual name, but if we’re drawing lines from the book to our reality, I’m Jordan, and you need me.”
“I don’t need anyone,” I lied. Their confidence in figuring things out grated my brain. They blinked sarcastically and stood.
“Well, if that’s the case, I can take off and enjoy the night. Good luck getting to her, though. What would I know, being her security and all.” Tuth started toward the door.
“Security?” I blurted out, instantly regretting it. They saw my hand, the desperation. They turned back with a grin. “Oh, you didn’t know? Daisy Lovelace is in such high-demand, she’s hired me to be her bodyguard when she goes into the city. I escort her to and from everywhere. You aren’t seeing her without my permission.”
Now was my turn to be cocky.
“Everywhere?” I raised an eyebrow. Two evenings of Daisy in my opera house came to mind. I hadn’t seen anyone with her then. Where was Tuth? Their expression was scrutinizing. They narrowed their eyes and stepped toward me.
“Look, do you want my help or not?”
“Tuth, I admire your ability to connect the dots between the original book and our story, but I don’t know if I truly need your help. ”
“Gatsby needs Jordan to talk to Nick for him. I have Nick.” They pointed to themselves.
“Are they not at this very party downstairs right now?” I walked around my desk and sat on the ledge, playing it much cooler than I felt. “It appears, I have Nick.”
“I can go downstairs right now and tell Neal to go home and never come back. I can tell them horrible things about you until they view you as a monster and sells their house. I—” Tuth paused when I flinched at their words. They backtracked. “I-I apologize. I would never lie to anyone about you. Hell, I don’t even know you.” They chuckled nervously, finished their drink, and ran a hand through their hair.
“Gatsby, whoever you are, I need to start over. I came off too strong.” They paused in their pacing and came toward me, hand extended. “I need to reintroduce myself. I’m Tuth, and Daisy is my dear friend. I love her like a sibling. She’s miserable and trapped, and I’d do anything to help her out of this. How can I help?”
I shook their hand, then returned to my drink, sipping slowly. Peering over the rim, I nodded. “Well, Jordan, let’s go get our Nick.”