2. Harry
2
HARRY
It’s late by the time I arrive at the InterContinental for Alessandro’s birthday party. I didn’t even see the others leave the skating rink—I was too busy changing the tire on Ruby’s car. Her mom, Celia, told me that she’d noticed her daughter’s car had a slow puncture and she didn’t want her to be stranded in the city when she finished her shift.
I mean, how could I refuse?
I stumbled right over the goddamn top of her—changing her tire was the least I could do. Not that I was helping as an apology. I’d already made an ass of myself with that one.
If I’m honest, I don’t even recall the physical process of the tire change. I guess I was shell shocked, or at least in a bit of a daze, reeling from my brief conversation with Ruby. Something about her…
Anyway, I study my reflection in the elevator mirror and realize that I have grease on my chin. I try scrubbing it off with the sleeve of my sweater and only succeed in spreading it further, so now I look like a kid who’s just returned from summer camp. I smooth my hair back with my hands and sigh when it springs straight back up again.
The party is in full swing, buzzing with laughter and loud conversations that will only grow more boisterous as the evening progresses. I’ll stay for a couple of drinks and then leave—parties are not really my scene, they’re much more Alessandro’s thing. I guess if we met now, rather than at Uni, we probably wouldn’t be friends, we wouldn’t even socialize in the same circles.
Carlos, Alessandro’s brother, comes over and grimaces when he notices the smears on my face, and I subconsciously try to wipe them away with the palm of my hand. “What happened to you? Is this supposed to be some kind of camouflage so that no one will notice you? If so, it isn’t working.”
I check my fingers—they’re grubby now too. “Just helping a damsel in distress.”
He peers all around, his eyes twinkling. That’s the thing about the Russo family—they all have that sparkle, a charisma that people literally find irresistible, and they’re genuinely nice people with it. Must be why the universe smiles down on them.
“Where is she then, this damsel in distress?”
I can’t help smiling. “She’s the one that got away.”
Carlos clamps a large warm hand on my shoulder and peers around at the guests.
Alessandro hired a function suite for the party, the ceiling heavy with crystal chandeliers that cast shimmering diamonds across the room. Waiters in crisp white shirts and black bow ties are walking around with trays of champagne. The tables lining the room are laden with platters of food and floral centerpieces.
Not the kind of place I’d ever have envisaged my friend hosting a birthday party, but he’s drifting into a new lifestyle, and I wonder how long it will be before he leaves his old friends behind. I recognize a young actress from a recently released movie, wearing a gold dress that looks as if it has been poured over her. She’s talking to a movie director who looks remarkably like Martin Scorsese.
I swallow hard, wishing that I’d at least gone back to my room to shower before making an appearance.
“I see Alessandro has finally met his match,” Carlos says, dragging me out of my self-indulgent misery.
“Who?” I scan the room for Alessandro—he’s taller than most people—and the air seems to leave my lungs for a second time this evening when I spot him across the room with a small group of people I don’t recognize. Apart from the young woman standing beside him.
Ruby Jackson.
Do they know each other? Or did Alessandro dish out invitations like autographs at the ice rink? A quick glance around the room tells me that she’s the only one here who isn’t dressed to impress, so I guess he didn’t bring a busload of folks back with him.
She’s the only one.
A waiter comes over, and I accept a glass of champagne which I down in one go. And regret it instantly when the bubbles resurface almost instantaneously.
“Have you ever seen him like this?” Carlos nods in their direction.
He doesn’t need to elaborate—I know exactly what he means. Alessandro is charming as always, steering the conversation, the wide easy smile a constant, but his eyes keep flicking to the woman at his side, the sparkle unmistakable. His hand snakes around her and settles on her lower back as he lowers his head to whisper in her ear, and she smiles up at him…
I signal for the waiter to bring more champagne and switch my empty glass for a full one. I sip this drink slowly.
I don’t know why Alessandro inviting Ruby to his birthday celebration bothers me so much. Scratch that. I know exactly why it bothers me.
We’ve been friends long enough for me to understand that he’ll woo her and then drop her like a lead balloon as soon as he gets bored. Alessandro is the classic chaser. He enjoys the challenge, and if my brief conversation with Ruby is anything to go by, she’ll present the kind of challenge he’ll be unable to refuse.
And Ruby Jackson deserves better than that.
I swallow another mouthful of bubbly liquid. I need a beer. I’ll never get used to drinking champagne and expensive wine that needs time to breathe before you can taste it.
How do I know that she deserves better?
I don’t. At least, that’s what I tell myself, as I turn away from the sight of my best friend nuzzling her neck while she chews her bottom lip.
“I think I need to meet the woman who has captivated my little brother.” Carlos raises his glass to me in a mock toast and navigates around the guests to go join Alessandro and Ruby.
“Did you get into a scrape or something?” Ronnie comes over with a beer and eyes up my greasy face.
“Long story. Where did you find a beer?”
Ronnie taps the side of his nose. “I brought a secret stash. I can’t be drinking that shit.”
I follow him to the cloakroom, where he has hidden a crate of beer underneath a rail of glamorous but impractical winter coats. We crack open a couple of cans and follow the steady thrum of voices back to the function room.
Ronnie spots an old friend and leaves me standing next to a table filled with hors d’oeuvres, bite-sized morsels that smell overwhelmingly fishy. I’m so busy studying the swirls of pink mousse and crab claws and tiny mounds of caviar, that I don’t notice anyone approaching.
“Have you recovered?”
I spin around to find Ruby standing next to me, a smile tugging her lips up at the corners. “Yes. Thank you. Yes, I always feel safer when my feet are touching the ground.”
She nods. Too late, I realize that she has already spotted the black smears on my chin. “Another accident or did you read the newspaper on the way here?”
I can’t help chuckling. She seems to have that effect on me, creating laughter that gurgles beneath the surface just waiting to erupt every time she speaks.
“I changed your tire. I should’ve gone back to my room to shower, but I didn’t think, and, well, you’re not the first person to have noticed, so it looks like I’m stuck with it now.”
She furrows her brow. “My tire?”
“Yes. Your mom said you had a slow puncture. It was flat as a pancake when I got there. She was worried about you getting home.”
She nibbles her bottom lip with her front teeth and then says, “May I?” gesturing to my beer. I hand it over and she takes a long swig, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before handing it back to me. “Thank you. For the beer and the tire.”
Ruby moves closer and surveys the guests in their fancy clothes. “Are you and Alessandro friends?”
Alessandro… The name already sounds comfortable on her tongue.
“Known each other since Uni.”
“Are you an actor too?”
She studies me intently, and I notice now that her eyes are green. I’ve never seen green eyes close up before, and I think I understand why cats are so bewitching.
“No. I work in oil. Petroleum. Fuel.”
Her laughter caresses my cheek like a chiffon scarf. “So, you’re used to getting your hands dirty.”
I peer down at my empty hand and ball it into a fist to hide my grimy fingers. “Not quite. At least, not anymore.”
Her eyes narrow briefly. “Not anymore?”
“I seem to spend more time in the office these days, managing numbers.”
She gives me a curious sideways smile. “So, what, you’re an accountant?”
I’m generally uncomfortable discussing what I do—most women turn their nose up at the word fuel—but Ruby isn’t like most women. She’s still here and she doesn’t look like she’s trying to escape. Yet.
“Not exactly.” I swallow, the back of my throat clicking drily. “I’m the boss. I own my own company. It’s still early days. We can’t compete with the likes of BP or Chevron, but, well…” I glug a mouthful of beer. There’s the dark family business but I’m not involved with it yet, and I don’t want to scare my woman away. My woman? “What do you do? When you’re not skating?”
“I read a lot.”
I nod and pray that she doesn’t ask me who my favorite author is. I haven’t read a book since Uni.
“I studied literature,” she continues without waiting for a response. Which is just as well really, as book talk isn’t my strongest subject. “It was the only thing that I stood a hope in hell of passing, so I went with it.”
She has an air of confidence that allows her to say exactly what she means rather than pussyfooting around. I like that about her.
“Favorite book?” I ask, because damn, I want to know.
“ Wuthering Heights . I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve read it. Doesn’t everyone want to be loved the way Heathcliff loves Catherine Earnshaw?”
I must be gaping at her because the smile is back, but she isn’t laughing at me.
“I guess,” she continues, “if your next question is what I want to do with my life, it would be to write a modern-day Wuthering Heights . Not because I want to go down in history as the next Emily Bronte, but because if I can write about love with that kind of passion, then I’ll be a very happy lady.”
“Was Emily Bronte happy?” I ask.
She studies me coolly. “What a question, Harry Weiss.”
A shiver travels down my spine at the way she says my name.
“You know, she probably wasn’t. She died when she was thirty years old. Can you imagine what she might’ve gone on to write had she lived a full and healthy life?”
“There you are!” Alessandro is standing in front of us, his eyes sparkling for Ruby. “We’re all heading down to the pool before we’re too drunk to stay afloat.” He entwines his fingers with hers and pulls her away.
“Are you coming, Harry?” Ruby doesn’t move; she’s waiting for me to answer.
“Course he’s coming. Aren’t you, Harry?” Alessandro raises his eyebrows at me, telling me to get a move on.
“Sure. I didn’t bring swim shorts though.”
“Who cares?” Alessandro guides her away from me. “No one did.”
In typical Alessandro Russo fashion, the party quickly gets messy. Some people climb into the pool in their underwear, while others strip off their clothes and jump in naked, some still clutching glasses of champagne.
I stand back and listen to their voices bouncing off the walls, the smell of chlorine tickling my nostrils and reminding me of childhood swimming lessons. The desire to swim is huge, but the requirement to ditch my clothes first is keeping me immobile.
I search for a glimpse of Ruby amongst the splashes and the beaming faces like a bunch of kids just out of school for the summer. Is that what being naked does to them, sets them free? I’m strangely relieved when I don’t spot Ruby’s honey-colored hair.
“Not going in?”
I turn around and there she is, fully clothed, and I can’t stop my grin from spreading. “Not really my scene.”
She smiles back at me. “My mom always says that you should leave something to the imagination.”
“Always? Do you often discuss getting naked in public?”
“You haven’t met my mom.” She goes to say more and then changes her mind.
“I did, briefly, remember? Your tire.”
Ruby faces the pool, and I wonder if she’s looking for Alessandro. I spot him in the deep end, getting close to the actress who has poured herself out of the slinky gold dress and wrapped her arms around his neck like she’s clinging to a lifebelt.
“Do you want to get out of here?” I want to take her away before she notices him too, but mostly because I don’t want to see the disappointment in her eyes.
She nods and walks away without waiting for me to catch up with her.
Even though I didn’t swim, I feel strangely cleansed as we make our way outside, the cold air stinging our cheeks. I hail a cab and open the door for her, climbing into the back seat next to her. Ruby gives the driver her home address, and we sit in comfortable silence as we drive through the Chicago city streets.
Ruby peers out of the passenger window. I don’t know if she expected more from Alessandro or if she’s simply tired, but I want to hold her hand and keep her warm, tell her that he might be my friend, but he’ll only hurt her, and that seeing her hurt is the last thing I want right now.
But I don’t.
When the car stops, I climb out and open the door for her, and we stand on the sidewalk outside her house, the ground glistening with frost, the chill nipping our noses.
“Take care, Ruby Jackson,” I say.
Fuck, but I want to kiss her lips so badly.
“You too, Harry Weiss.” She reaches up and kisses my cheek, and then she’s gone, running up the path to her front door, while I climb back into the cab, the imprint of her lips forever on my skin.