13. Mimosa
CHAPTER 13
Mimosa
I thought he’d been joking when he said he was going to host a party. It’s so last minute, and you can’t just throw a party and expect people to show up without advance notice, right?
Apparently you can when you have more money than god. Brutal hired some people to cater and decorate. He also hired a stylist for me, and I’d had to nod along while she picked out my thousand-dollar dress with maybe two square feet of fabric, if that.
It’s all so surreal, and maybe that’s why I’m playing along with it.
People file in, excited to meet Drake Brutal and see exactly what a penthouse condo in the most exclusive building of New Bristol looks like.
I wander from room to room, dazed by the sheer energy in the room. The couches are all packed. People mingle and set their drinks and trays all over. Out on the rooftop patio, people are lounging by the heated pool.
And everybody is drinking, smoking, or worse.
I sit down on an empty chair in the living room, watching Brutal as he interacts with his guests. There are some people he greets more warmly than others, but for the most part, I don’t get the sense that he actually knows most of the partygoers. They introduce themselves, he smiles at them, and soon he’s off talking to the next person .
I’m exhausted just watching him.
I startle when a vaguely familiar looking Asian woman sits down on the ottoman across from me. She’s wearing a form-fitting, slinky dress, and her black hair has been styled in an updo.
I can see bruising around her throat beneath a light layer of makeup, but anyone who’s just glancing at her wouldn’t give it a second look.
“Hi,” she says without preamble. “I’m May. You’re Mimosa, right?”
I tense, but I don’t plan on letting anybody intimidate me. “I am. Do I know you?”
There’s a brittle edge to her smile. “We met briefly, a while back.” She gives me a pointed look. “Back when you didn’t know how to stop running your mouth.”
My eyes widen as I realize where I know her from. She’d been there at the club when I’d first been taken. We were from the same “cohort” of girls. Of course, May had been sent to work at the strip club, while I’d been relegated to the back rooms.
I give her a more thorough look. There’d be no way to guess that she’d once been a stripper, looking at her now.
“You seem to be doing all right,” I say cautiously. “Did you work your way out, or…”
Or is she here just as unwillingly as I am?
“You could say I worked my way out,” she says, her voice droll. She glances at the crowd, where another man with Asian features is watching us with brows raised. She makes a face at him, and he goes back to talking to Brutal. “Or that I’m working my way out. Kinda like you.”
“Sure,” I say without emotion. “Let’s go with that, then.”
I’m not working my way out at all. I’m stuck here, whether I want it or not.
May leans in, replying, “I know he’s a dick.” No one would be able to hear her, not over the din, but she still chooses her words carefully. “Like… I can’t even imagine what he’s doing to you. Chase didn’t want to come tonight, but he mentioned that Fuckface had a new girlfriend and I just…” She shrugs. “I wanted to see if you were like Savage’s pet.” Her face wrinkles in distaste.
It takes me a second to put things together. “That woman with the doctor. His fiancée?” I shrug. “And sure, he’s a lot. Nothing I haven’t been able to handle.”
That’s a small exaggeration, but I don’t know this woman. I’m not going to risk her tattling to Brutal’s friend and that somehow blowing up in my face.
She regards me for a moment, not seeming surprised that I’m being so reticent. “Yeah,” she says. “I ended up with a nice little whipping,” her low voice is heavy with sarcasm, “because of that little brat, so be careful with her. She likes to pretend she’s all sweet and innocent.”
I’d been woozy with pain when I’d met the woman, so I barely remember her. Mostly, I remember pitying her.
“She thinks the doctor loves her,” I say quietly. “That’s kind of sad.”
May makes a face. “Yeah, well. It gets complicated after a while.” She sighs. “Chase has been convinced he’s in love with me since the first time he saw me. And I…” Her eyes find the man in the crowd again, and they soften slightly. “Yeah. Complicated.” Shaking her head, she lets out a little laugh, almost sounding nervous. “No one expects you to fall for Brutal, and I doubt he’s even capable of love. No offense, but you’re fucked.”
“Gee, thanks.” I glance over to where Brutal is talking to May’s companion. Chase catches my eye and waves at us, then starts walking over. Brutal follows him, of course.
“Are you playing nice, Ah-May?” Chase asks.
“I always play nice,” she says. “Besides, she already has to deal with him .” She jabs a finger in Brutal’s direction. “I’m not gonna make it worse for her.” She flashes him an ugly smile. “Unlike some people.”
“What have you been talking about?” Brutal asks bluntly.
“I was warning her about Stef,” May says with a shrug. “I’m sure you don’t need an excuse to repeat what happened at the last party, but hey, no need to piss off Doctor Savage.”
Chase reaches out to squeeze May’s bare shoulder. “She apologized for that. You need to let it go. For everyone’s sake.” He turns his gaze on me. “Drake told me you two had fun with a cane.”
I paste a dead smile onto my lips. “Lots of fun. You should try it yourself.”
“Maybe I will,” May says .
I don’t miss the way she presses against Chase. For all her warnings about Savage’s girl, she seems to be utterly brainwashed, too, and I’m glad I didn’t trust her with anything.
Brutal scowls at me. “You don’t need to be talking to May. She’s going to spoil all the progress we’ve made.” He glances at Chase. “She’ll be telling Mimi here to rebel just for the sake of rebelling.”
May rolls her eyes. “Oh, please,” she scoffs. “Like I really want to tell someone to get on your bad side.”
Brutal’s glare snaps to her. “Keep your bitch in line, Chase.”
Chase raises an eyebrow. “Really, Drake? It’s a party. You invited us. Chill out before I start agreeing with Hunter about your recent attitude.”
“My recent attitude?” Brutal asks, his voice starting to rise in volume, enough to where a few people glance in our direction. He lowers his voice. “The fuck is that supposed to mean, Chase? Jesus. I thought you were my friend, not one of Hunter’s sycophants.”
May shifts uncomfortably, getting up and putting a hand on Chase’s arm. She whispers something in his ear.
Chase nods and wraps his arm around her shoulders. “I am your friend. That’s why I said anything at all. But whatever. May and I are going to check out the pool.”
They walk off, with May giving me one last look over her shoulder. The entire exchange leaves a strange feeling in my gut.
What was Brutal like before, that his friends are concerned about him now?
Brutal glowers after them, snapping at me, “Stay put. And don’t go whining to anyone else.” Before I can respond that I wasn’t whining to anyone, he stalks off, heading straight for the array of liquor on the bar and leaving me behind.
I’m tempted to wander again anyway, but there isn’t really any place to go. There are so many people crowding around that soon I don’t see Brutal anymore. I toy with the idea of getting food and a drink, but before I move, a man and two women sit down near me.
“I can’t believe I’m in Drake Brutal’s home,” one of the women says, holding up her phone. “This is an exclusive party, y’all. Only the most important—and hottest—people of New Bristol got an invite. ”
She pans her camera around, and frowns when it lands on me. I wave, and she puts the camera down.
“Sorry, didn’t see you there, babe.” She glances at her two companions, who shrug, then looks back at me. “So who are you? I don’t recognize you.”
I nod at her. “That’s fine. I don’t recognize you either.”
The woman sputters, and her female friend looks indignant on her behalf.
“Umm, she’s the Felicia Fenway,” the friend says.
I nod, as if I know who she is. “Of course. The Felicia. I guess I’m the Mimosa. No last name.”
The two women are clearly trying to figure out if I’m making fun of them, while the man is mostly just staring at my bare legs.
“What’s your social media account?” The Felicia asks, tapping on her phone again. “I have three hundred thousand followers. You?”
“Last time I checked, I had four followers,” I say earnestly, keeping my face completely straight while the two women look at me in disbelief.
“Four?” Felicia sneers at me. “What are you even doing here?”
It’s stupid to engage, especially since Brutal is in a bad mood. But I have to admit, I’ve always been annoyed by my peers who place all their value in social media.
My sister had been very into social media. I guess that got her more clients at Giulio Pavone’s clubs.
“I must be the hottest person in New Bristol,” I answer. “At least, Drake seems to think so. Since I’m his girlfriend.”
The man who’d been eyeing me jolts upright, staring at my face now that I’ve spoken, but his expression soon relaxes as he laughs. “You’re funny,” he says. “Mimosa, right? Why don’t we go over by the pool and get to know each other?”
The women don’t seem to think it’s funny at all. Felicia’s friend outright sneers at me. “Like Drake Brutal would ever date a no-style loser.”
I glance down at my dress, which isn’t my style in any sense of the word. The stylist had assured me it matched my skin and hair, and the makeup artist had gone out of her way to complete the dramatic look .
“You’ll have to take it up with Drake’s stylist, I guess. And him, since he approved the whole look.”
“Stop fucking lying about…” Felicia’s friend trails off and sits taller. We all turn to see what caught her attention: Drake coming back our way, glass of some alcoholic beverage in hand.
When he gets closer, I say, “Hi, babe. Is some of that drink for me?”
Drake seems to pick up on the hint, because he stops beside me and leans down to drop a kiss on the top of my head. “Sure,” he says, though he seems surprised at the question. He offers the glass to me. “Drink up, Mimi.”
He glances at the others, frowning as he takes in their expressions.
“Something the matter?” he asks, voice sharp.
I take a sip, hiding my disgust at the taste. Then I glance at Drake and say, “The Felicia was telling me all about her business.”
Drake gives me a puzzled look. “‘The Felicia’? Who’s that?”
Felicia turns red in the face. “Felicia Fenway,” she says haughtily, “You invited me.”
“Actually, my assistant invited you,” Drake corrects her. His eyes flick over her, and while there’s some appreciation in his gaze, he sits on the arm of the chair and wraps an arm around my shoulders.
I’m not sure how I feel about that.
Felicia’s face gets even redder, and she gets up. “I’m going to grab a drink. I’ll see you around, Drake.” The other two stay seated until Felicia gives them a pointed look. The friend immediately falls in line, and the guy is clearly debating his chances of getting laid if he stays seated. Finally, he does get up and follows Felicia out of sight.
“Did you really not know who she was?” I ask, taking another sip of the strange cocktail.
“She’s some two-bit influencer. They’re a dime a dozen,” Drake says dismissively. “She’ll probably put out some scathing video about how much of a dick I am in person just for defending my date.” He looks down at the drink in my hand. “You should drink more of that. The party’s not nearly over yet.”
I shake my head. “She’s not going to say anything negative about you. That would damage her brand, and she knows you’ve got more ardent fans than she does.” At his surprised expression, I shrug. “What?”
“I didn’t think you were the social media type,” Drake says.
“I’m not. But just because I don’t like it, doesn’t mean I don’t understand the psychology of it. If she’s selling herself as someone who is rich and famous, she can’t tell her followers she was beneath your notice.”
Drake considers me for a moment, then nods. “That makes sense.”
I want to say more, but some other people crowd closer.
“Hey, Drake!” one of them says. “Great party! You got some fucking hot bitches here.” He waggles his eyebrows. “We doing an afterparty like usual?”
Drake slides his hand down from my shoulder down to my breast, squeezing lightly. “Of course we are. Don’t tell anyone else, though, we’re keeping it small—well, not everything will be small.”
I suppress a disgusted sound. As if I needed more proof that Drake was a sleazy douchebag.
“Oh, you,” I say, still emotionless. “You sure you don’t want to try out some other women? There are plenty of them here who would happily ride your dick.”
“Like Tiffany Fenway?” Drake asks with a smirk, ignoring my deadpan sass.
“You mean Felicia?” the other man asks with a double take. “Man, I’d love to get my hands on that ass.”
“You’re welcome to it,” Drake says casually, shrugging. “You’ve got the money to buy her a nice trip to Paris and back. She’d be eating out of the palm of your hand.”
“Paris,” he scoffs. “I want to get laid, not be somebody’s wallet.”
“I think I’ll go walk around,” I say, getting up. I pass the cocktail back to Drake. “You two boys have fun discussing all the women you’d like to fuck.”
As I walk off, I hear the other man saying, “Man, lucky. I’d love to have a girl who doesn’t get jealous.”
“Who said I was actually going to fuck around on her?” Drake asks, and I almost pause to listen to more of the conversation. I don’t think I want to hear it, though, so I continue heading deeper into the room .
I don’t really look out of place, but I feel like I am. My sister would’ve thrived in this environment…
I realize Drake never told me what’s going on with her. Maybe it’s for the best. I don’t know what I would do with that information.
I avoid the informal dance floor, and I steer clear of the people doing lines out on the patio. I spot both May and Chase in the pool, and somehow, they appear to be having fun. So much for thinking the men are dicks. She’s just as happy to enjoy the luxuries provided.
Not that I blame her.
In the end, this is still better than where I used to be, bastinado and rape games notwithstanding.
What a fucking life.
I push past some drunk people—and how many fucking people did he manage to invite on such short notice? I find a large, high-back chair inexplicably turned away from the rest of the area and sit down, sighing in relief. Sure, I can still hear everybody around us, but I feel better now that I’m hidden from view.
While I collect my thoughts, some other people sit down in my corner. I don’t think they notice me, for which I’m grateful.
“Can you believe he’s throwing a fucking party now ? We’ve got that big announcement next week and he’s goofing off instead of preparing.”
I tense and resist the urge to turn around. They probably think nobody can hear them because of how secluded we are and how loud the music is.
The second voice, also male, responds, “Just fucking let him. It’ll make it easier. We can use this as evidence for the board.”
A female voice chimes in, “Just look at what’s going on here. The drugs, the drinking… It’s like he wants to ruin himself.”
Interesting that there actually are people who don’t like Drake Brutal, but I shouldn’t be surprised. I’m not the only one who noticed how out of control he is.
Which these people have figured out, too.
“Just another week,” the first man says. “I talked to a few of my friends, and they’ve assured me of their support.”
Huh. I don’t know that much about how corporations work, but this sounds like they want to get rid of Drake entirely. That would probably teach him a lot of much needed humility.
I wait for them to say more, but one of them shushes the others, and then I hear, “Yo, Oliver. Have you seen… oh, there you are, Mimi.”
I wince and sit up, turning to wave at Drake. The other three stare at me with wide eyes.
“Sorry,” I say, getting up. “I somehow managed to doze. The droning bass can be a bit soothing.”
Drake looks between the three people who’d been discussing his fate with the company — who all look a little guilty — and me. I don’t know how much he’s had to drink, or if he’s mixed the alcohol with drugs, but he looks a little more alert than he had been earlier. “Only you could fall asleep at a party like this,” he says, going along with my lie.
He wraps an arm around my waist, kissing my cheek.
It makes my skin crawl, but I smile.
“These are some of the people I work with,” Drake says, gesturing to the three of them. “Oliver, George, Penny, this is Mimi. She’s my girlfriend.” He grins at them, though the look is almost poisonous. I wonder how much he knows. “Look at me, starting to settle down.”
I get a better look at the people. Oliver is slightly older than Drake, though not by much. Handsome enough, I guess, but having just overheard the conversation I don’t think his personality is much to write home about. The other two look out of place at the party, a little too old to be here at all.
It’s surprising they came here, but if they were looking for evidence against Drake, it suddenly makes sense.
I lean against Drake and wrap my arm around his waist. “Babe, let’s go find a private room. I definitely had too much to drink.”
“Yeah, okay,” he says, offering another smile to the three of them. “Enjoy the party.” We start to walk away, and he mutters under his breath, “Or don’t. Ugh. I can’t believe Caroline invited them. This was supposed to be fun .” He leads me through the crowd into the bedroom, closing the door behind us and quirking a brow. “I know you didn’t say that to get me to fuck you,” he says bluntly. “The fuck’s going on, Mimosa? ”
“I didn’t like them,” I say. “They were being really disgusting. Even that woman was a judgmental asshole.”
“Doesn’t surprise me,” he says with a grunt. He eyes me warily. “Did they say anything about… my vacation or whatever?”
I look at him earnestly. “What would they have said?”
Drake eyes me for a long moment. “Don’t know.” He sighs, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt. “You can lie down for a little bit if you want, but I want you there for the afterparty in a couple hours. Got it?”
“Yeah, ok.” I sit down on the bed, grabbing the hem of the dress so it doesn’t ride up too high. On a whim, I ask, “Do you actually know any of the people attending? Properly know. Except for Chase.”
He blinks at me, looking briefly taken aback. I don’t think he’s going to respond for a moment, but then he shrugs. “No. I don’t need to know them to have fun with them. And Chase is fine when he isn’t listening to Hunter’s bullshit.”
“I guess so,” I answer. It sounds pretty sad to me, but I’ve always preferred a few good friends over a vast network of acquaintances.
Not that I’d had those good friends. Maybe a few people at college are wondering where I am, but for the most part, I’d been a loner.
I guess I’m not so different from Drake in that regard.