29. London
Chapter 29
London
I pace the confines of my brand-new apartment, stewing in a plethora of emotions and thoughts I'm not sure what to do with. I got home from work late, never turning the lights on for long enough to see anything, plopping down into the bed Camille left behind.
It wasn't until I woke up this morning, the light of day spilling in that I saw someone had broken into my apartment and left me presents.
There was no note, not a single word giving away the culprit, but I know exactly who it was—my stalker, the man I love to hate…Archer Sin.
I huff, mumbling under my breath and considering my options. I could pile everything up and leave it on his doorstep, bang on his door, and throw it all inside, or I could keep them, not acknowledging his generosity at all. Each one has its pros and cons, and not even one of them makes me any less angry that he continues to violate my privacy.
He knew I wanted that dress, the one I saw when I went shopping the first main day I was here.
He knew I told Grace yesterday that I didn't have anything to wear.
I open the garment bag, tracing my fingers along the delicate fabric, sighing at how fucking beautiful the dress is up close and personal. Popping the top of each jewelry box, I gasp at how shiny and expensive they look.
I drag out my phone, doing a quick internet search, my mouth dropping at the price tags.
Did Archer spend over six hundred thousand dollars on someone he can't stand? Someone he claims he wants nothing to do with. Someone he threw out of his apartment because he couldn't be bothered to hear their side of the story.
Pushing a button, I dial Grace, because I can't be responsible for making this decision on my own.
It rings twice before she answers, her voice the sound of angels."Hey, babe. What's up?"
"I need you to come over, right now . It's an emergency." Okay, maybe I'm being dramatic,butit feels like an emergency of some sort. "I'm not, like, dying or anything."
Grace laughs. "I was just grabbing coffee. I'm next in line, want something?"
"This calls for something stronger than coffee."
"Got it. Getting out of line now. I'll pick up a bottle of wine on the way over. Give me five."
We hang up and I stare at the boxes until a soft knock hits my front door. I peer through the peephole to find Grace on the other end, two bottles of wine in her grasp.
I open the door and all but drag her inside. "I need your help."
"I have never felt more important in my entire life," she says. "Good thing I got screw tops." Grace sets one of the bottles on the counter, carrying the other over and into my kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets to find two glasses.
I'm no help. Even if I wasn'tstewingin my thoughts, I haven't really gone through the apartment that well to know where things are located. Camille gave me the place fully furnished, telling me it was easier on her that way, and I wasn't exactly protesting considering I came to New York with just the clothes on my back.
Grace hands me a glass of red and takes a long swig of hers. "Okay, so what kind of help do you need? Makeup? Boys? Hide a dead body?"
"You'd help me hide a body?"
She shrugs. "Hey, what are friends for?" Her gaze catches on the bags sitting in my dining room. "Um, did you go shopping without me?" She marches right over, her hand on her hip. "Is that Van Cleef?" She flipsthetop on one of the jewelry boxes,stifling a gasp. "Oh. My. God." Grace slowly spins on her heel. "You robbed the fucking Van Cleef store?"
I chug some of my wine, ignoring the way it warms my chest and empty stomach. "I did not rob the Van Cleef store." I lick my lips and try to make sense of the situation. "I woke up and this was here."
Grace stares at me, blinking a few times. "What?"
"I mean, it was either here when I got in last night, or someone came when I was sleeping."
"Someone? Like who? Santa Claus?" Grace helps herself to the rest of the things, shaking her head as she explores all the stuff Archer brought me.
"You know who it was, we both do." I settle onto a stool in the kitchen, near the bottle of wine, refilling my glass when I empty it a second later.
Grace comes over, topping hers off, too, and sits down. "You think he broke in here?"
"I mean, I didn't give him a key. How else would you explain how it got in here? I sleepwalked to Van Cleef and went shopping? I don't have that kind of money."
"You said you had his black card, right? It's not impossible."
That's when it dawns on me, I do still have Archer's American Express. I had forgotten all about it, buried in the bottom of one of the handbags he had gotten me. I should probably pay it more consideration since it's capable of purchasing six hundred thousand dollars’ worth of stuff. Unless he paid cash, then that's an entirely different story altogether.
"I didn't use his card. This was him, not me." I drink more of the wine, not caring about the taste and focusing on how it makes my body tingle and loosen up at the same time.
"It's kind of hot," Grace admits.
"What?"
"Don't get me wrong, breaking and entering is definitely a criminal activity. But it's weirdly romantic. Isn't that the dress you've been wanting from Charlotte's, too? He pays attention, it's sweet."
I glare at her. "Grace. Don't encourage him, he's probably listening right now." I crane my head all around the apartment, feeling entirely too vulnerable.
Grace hops off her chair, sets her wineglass down, and goes over to the window.
"What are you doing?" I ask her.
"Trust the process." She lowers each of the blinds, the place getting darker and darker until she shuts off the lights, leaving us in almost pitch black.
"What the hell," I blurt out, bracing myself on the counter like the world might topple over now that I can't see.
Grace pulls out her camera and hits record, panning the kitchen, dining room, and living room. She walks back over, how she can find her way I'll never know, and hits play next to me. "We're looking for a red dot. It's hard to find them with the naked eye but if there was a camera in here, this video would pick it up."
We watch it three times, and nothing indicates that there are any hidden cameras in here.
"Let me check your other rooms. Is that cool?" Grace waits for me to give her my approval before continuing.
"Yeah, of course."
She leaves me there in the quiet darkness, returning a couple of minutes later to show me the screen. "I think you're good, babe." Grace flips the kitchen light on and I squint at the bright assault, my eyes taking a second to adjust.
"Why do you even know how to check for cameras?" I ask Grace and swallow down the rest of the wine in my glass.
"Politics, babe." She climbs onto the stool. "It's hard to know who to trust."
"Isn't it a conflict of interest? You dating Leo, a known criminal."
"Meh. It is what it is."
"You're only doing it to make Seven jealous, aren't you?"
Her mouth drops open and I almost applaud her acting skills. She'll never willingly admit she has a thing for Seven, but I can't say I blame her. He's a fucking lunatic. Leo is gorgeous, and much better suited for her, considering he has some semblance of human decency. But there's no denying her chemistry with Seven, even if she refuses to acknowledge it.
She smirks while refilling our glasses, my head swimming with the wine buzz. "What are you going to do?"
"What should I do?"
"Well, you could confront him, or not. If you confront him, you get the satisfaction of arguing with him, which I know you absolutely love. If you don't, you deny yourself of that but will probably drive him crazier than if you said anything at all. I guess it depends on what your gut is telling you. Both are viable options."
I want to let it go, to allow him to stew in the mystery of my nonresponse, but I don't know if I have the self-control not to march over there and rip into him for breaking in here. Sure, it was thoughtful, that much is true. And now I have something to wear, along with some of the most beautiful accessories I ever could have imagined. I love everything he picked out, I just wish he would have given me a choice in the matter, or maybe a heads-up before he broke into my apartment. He might mean well but it was an invasion of my privacy and I'm not sure how that makes me feel.
Slipping off my chair, I chug my wine and wipe the droplet that rolls down my chin. I leave the empty glass on the counter and turn to Grace. "I'm going over there."
"Oh, like now?" Her eyes widen and she follows suit, drinking her wine and following me over to the door, not daring to convince me to stay put and think through what I'm about to do.
We're out of my apartment in a flash, storming over to his door, Grace hanging back as I pound my fist against the hard surface.
It takes twenty whole seconds before Archer opens up, barely cracking it as if he's hiding something inside. I hate the jealousy that arises at the idea that it might be another woman. Was he able to move on that quickly? Even after buying me all that expensive shit?
"London," he says, a hint of surprise in his tone.
"Archer." I try to look past him, to see into his apartment, but he keeps it blocked with his wide frame and tall stature.
"What do you want?" His gaze darts from me to Grace, who remains firmly behind me, her arms crossed over her chest. "Grace." He nods at her.
"Grace?" a voice calls out from farther within his place, the person attached to it gripping and pulling the door open to reveal the rest of the Sin family. Seven pushes past Archer, throwing his arm over Grace's shoulders and tugging her close.
"Ugh, gross. You reek of booze, Seven." She attempts to shrug him off but he keeps ahold of her.
Archer sighs and steadies his attention on me. "See what you've done?"
"What I've done?" I glare at him. "I think we should talk about what you've done."
"Have you been drinking?" he asks me and leans closer, sniffing my breath. "What the fuck, London? Are you drunk?"
"Get out of my face, Archer. You don't get to have a say in my life." I back away from him, stumbling over my own feet.
He reaches out to steady me, his touch warm and firm. I hate that I enjoy it more than I expected I would. I'm supposed to hate him, not want his skin on mine. But I guess just like Grace and Seven, we can't help who we're attracted to.
Maybe I should try Leo out and see if it will distract me from Archer. I wouldn't mind dating the playboy brother if it meant getting over the grumpy one.
"Get inside." Archer guides me into his apartment and I don't bother convincing him otherwise. "You need to sober up."
"You need to sober up."
"Good one." Archer shuts the door behind Seven and Grace, Seven's arm still slung around her shoulders.
She pokes him in the side, causing him to flinch and break his hold on her.
"What's going on here?" Leo comes over, putting his hand on Grace's lower back, asserting his dominance over Seven, a dangerous territory I'm surprised he's willing to explore.
Leo might be dangerous but Seven has made it clear he doesn't care who it is, family or not, he'd kill them for crossing him.
Grace melts into Leo, hugging his torso and kissing his cheek. Aesthetically, they look damn good together, and if they reproduced, their babies would no doubt be supermodels straight from the womb, every diaper brand desperate to get their faces plastered on the side of a diaper box. But they're almost too pretty, like if you stared too long, you'd lose your eyesight, as if you were staring into the blazing sun.
Ivy stands from her spot at the table, August sitting in the chair next to her, busy doing something on his phone. "London."
"Ivy." I glare at her, endless bad thoughts running through my mind since she was the one to expose me to Archer before I had gotten a chance to do it myself. I hate her for ruining what we had before it even began, but I sort of applaud her for doing something I don't know if I'd ever have been capable of doing.
A month later and the entire situation feels as fresh as that fateful morning, when things felt so right, only to end so badly.
I never want to see you again , the final words Archer spoke to me, the ones that sealed our fate permanently.
"Didn't realize you'd be joining us today," she says.
"I came over to have a chat with your brother." I slap Archer on the shoulder, his muscles tense under his shirt. "Isn't that right, big boy?"
Archer's jaw clenches and his nostrils flare slightly.
"We have no secrets," Ivy announces. "What you need to say to him, you can say to the rest of us." She comes around the front of the table like she's daring me to make a move so she can finish things off.
Rationally, I know I should be afraid, not just of her, but every person in this room, but how can I be when the worst is behind me? Nothing they could do to me could ever be worse than anything I've already been through.
"Fine." I turn toward Archer. "Do you want to tell your siblings what you put in my apartment?"
Archer moves quickly, grabbing my shoulders and navigating me away from earshot. "Okay, fine, we can talk alone."
"What, I thought there were no secrets?" I blurt out loud enough so they can hear me. I don't give a fuck if they find out their brother is a stalker who broke into my apartment and left me hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of gifts.
"Bedroom, now." Archer shoves me through the door, kicking it shut once he's through. "You have a big mouth, don't you?"
I spin out of his grasp and fold my arms over my chest. "What the fuck, Archer?"
"What?" He mimics my stance.
"What do you mean, what ? Are you really going to pretend like you didn't break into my fucking apartment?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
I narrow my gaze. "You're telling me you didn't? You swear to me it wasn't you."
He pinches his brow and exhales dramatically. "Why do you have to be so difficult? Just say thank you."
"No, absolutely not." I shake my head. "That was a violation of my privacy. Not to mention how you watch my every move. How did you even know I wanted that dress, Archer? Huh? How did you know I didn't have anything to wear? How could you have possibly known those things unless you were watching me, listening to my conversations?" I tap my shoe on the floor. "It has to stop, Archer. It's uncalled for. There's no reason for it. You said you never wanted to see me again. Remember? You're telling me you're a liar?"
"You're one to talk," he scoffs.
I point my finger at him. "That's not fair. You didn't even give me a chance to explain."
He steps closer, his presence nearly suffocating me. "You don't deserve a chance to explain."
"Fine. Whatever. If you don't want me to, I won't. But you have to stop fucking stalking me. It's not romantic."
"I wasn't trying to be romantic." His dark eyes meet mine and I can't help but linger my gaze on his lips, reminiscing on the way they felt pressed against my body.
"You're confusing, you know that?" I swallow harshly and keep looking at him.
"There's nothing confusing about this. You're reading into something that isn't there." Archer is the first to break away and walk to the door. He hesitates, his hand on the knob. "What we had died that day, London. There's no coming back from that."
I hate the way his words slice through my heart. I hate that I care at all. I hate that I wish I could turn back the clock, but that's not possible and there's nothing I can do to change his mind. And even if I could, he's not the only one who got hurt—the way he threw me out of his apartment, the way he tossed me aside as if I never mattered to him, that isn't something I could forgive, either. What we had might have been powerful and passionate and life-changing, but it was fleeting and I have to come to terms with the fact that it's gone.
Only, I wish he would, too.
Maybe living next to each other really was a bad idea.
I adjust my dress in the back of the limo Grace had sent to my apartment complex. It fits perfectly, as does every piece of jewelry Archer had bought me.
"You look beautiful," she tells me and fixes her makeup in a small compact mirror. She pinches it shut and tucks it into her clutch.
"So do you." I take her in, her blonde hair slicked back into a pony, the ends in perfectly soft curls. Her dress is a buttery gold, long gown with sequins and frilly ends coming off the shoulders and bottom half. It's stunning, and I wouldn't be surprised if it was custom-made for her body. The neckline plunges deep and shows just enough of her chest not to be too revealing.
"You both are hot as hell," Leo says from his spot next to Grace.
He's wearing a dark navy cashmere suit from Louis Vuitton with a handkerchief that matches Grace's dress. Everything about him screams I have money and I can't help but wonder what people are going to think about my outfit, considering I didn't pay for a damn thing. I can't even claim my panties, since I'm not wearing any.
"Thanks, Leo. You clean up nice, too," I say, dancing around the awkward fact that he's Archer's brother. They're not even blood-related but every time I see Leo's face, it reminds me of Archer.
I chew at my lip and stare at the window, the cars passing by in a blur.
"What are you nervous about?" Grace taps me with her stiletto to get my attention.
"Nothing."
She tilts her head. "Don't lie to me."
I let out a sigh and wish Leo wasn't here so I could talk more candidly.
"I don't think he's coming," Grace tells me. "I mean, he bought a table, so he has every right to, but he didn't RSVP. I had my team follow up a few times."
I avert my gaze, fidgeting with the purse I brought with me. I can't tell if I'm relieved or disappointed.
"How long has it been since you talked to him?" Grace slides her hand on top of Leo's when he sets it on her leg.
"Four weeks."
"That's a month, sweetheart," Leo says.
"It will be a month on Thursday," I correct him, regretting it the second I blurt it out. How psycho do I sound, counting the days since Archer and I last spoke? We've been apart longer than we were together and yet it still won't ease the ache in my chest every time I think about him. I already made it through denial, anger, and bargaining, so I guess that leaves depression and acceptance. The only silver lining is that eventually I'll be over him, and that can't come soon enough.
I'm saved by the limo stopping in front of the massive building Grace secured for this event, my heart racing at the flashing lights that appear when the driver opens the door. I step out first, taking the man’s hand to assist me and do everything I can to be as poised as possible.
Cameras snap, people talk loudly, and I ignore the "Who is she?" and walk with my chin up, my shoulders back, across the red carpet leading to the entrance. I don't let out the breath I was holding until I'm through the chaos, waiting for Grace and Leo who should be behind me any moment now.
"Welcome," a woman says to me, her eyes bright and a tablet in her grasp. "London Smith?"
"Yes," I confirm. "I'm with Grace McCallister."
Grace and Leo come through the door, noise from the crowd blaring and fading out once they're fully inside. They're smiling, and I'm almost convinced they like each other, but they're both biding their time until something better comes along. There's nothing wrong with having some fun while it lasts, though. Something I wish Archer and I would have spent more time doing instead of the push and pull we did for the month leading up to getting together.
I bite the inside of my lip, punishing myself for thinking about him at all. Tonight is about Grace and the work she's done for this charity, not Archer and our temporary fling that meant nothing.
"Ms. McCallister, it's a pleasure to see you." The woman greets her with an even bigger smile than she gave me.
"Tori, hey. How are things going?" Grace comes up beside her, glancing at the tablet as Tori points to a few things.
"Everything has kicked off without a hitch. There was a minor hiccup with catering, but it was dealt with. I assure you a flawless evening."
"Perfect." Grace glances at me and Leo who are standing in wait. "Let's get in there."
Leo holds both of his elbows out to us. "Come on, help a man out by walking in with the two most beautiful women here tonight."
Grace is the first to latch onto Leo, taking a look back at me. "What the hell. Come on, London."
I grin at her and hold on to Leo as he escorts us through the main double doors and into the stunning hall filled with tons of other people. Music is playing softly and chatter fills the space.
"Drinks?" Leo says, shifting his attention to both of us.
"Please," I'm the first to respond. "Stronger the better."
Grace nods and he kisses her cheek before leaving us to head toward the bar. I gravitate toward Grace and consider how mad she'd be at me for dipping out of here when she's distracted.
"Don't even think about it," she says as if she can read my mind.
"What?" I ask her.
"You're about to pull an Irish goodbye."
"Am not," I lie.
Grace slips her arm through mine and glares at me. "I know you better than that, London Smith ."
A lot has changed in the last few weeks. Not only am I improving at the bakery and learning how to better budget my money, but my friendship with Grace has deepened to the point that I've confided my true identity to her. I hadn't planned on telling anyone, but with the way things went down with Archer, I couldn't afford to lose Grace, too, and I trusted that she'd keep my secret safe. I've never had a friend like her before, I couldn't gamble with fate that it would last if I couldn't be honest with her. It was hard, at first, to find the right way to tell her things, but once I started, I word-vomited my history with my father, the events that transpired, and even the fact that I'm the reason why Madison, Archer's old love, is dead. I spared no details, giving Grace the ability to ask questions, answering them as best I could without shutting down from having to relive those torturous moments of my past. It was strange being able to finally talk about what happened with someone, like a huge weight was lifted from my shoulders at not having to bear it all myself. Grace didn't judge me and wasn’t all that shocked, which didn't surprise me one bit, considering how well she handled Archer's family and the fact that they're notorious criminals.
I'm honored to have her as a friend, and I can only hope to support her the way she's supported me, getting me through a time when I felt incredibly alone. I hadn't realized how much having Archer around helped me through the transition of losing everything and starting over until he wasn't there anymore. I wasn't just losing a lover; I was losing a friend, a confidant, too.
Leo returns a moment later, three glasses in his grasp. "Tequila old-fashioned," he tells us.
We each take one, clinking them together before giving them a taste. I swallow mine in one go, the liquid warming a path down my chest.
"Okay, then." Leo takes my glass from me and points to the bar. "Do we want another one or would you like to hold off on embarrassing yourself just yet?"
"I'm not going to embarrass myself," I spit back, the two of us developing this sort of brother-and-sister banter throughout Grace and him dating. He's like the annoying older brother I never had and despite him being Archer's brother, I do enjoy being around him.
"Oh, twelve o'clock, hot dude alert," he says, catching me off guard. "Play it cool, champ."
I narrow my gaze at him and as nonchalantly as possible, turn in the direction he implied, a very attractive man in a black suit shaking hands with an older man. We watch a woman approach, wrap her arm around his, and kiss his cheek.
"Oops." Leo winces like I might slap him and I do, but teasingly. "I'll try to make sure the next one is single."
"You two be okay if I go mingle?" Grace asks us, focusing on me. "Don't let this one leave."
"I'll make sure to say goodbye if I do." I wink at her.
"We're golden, babe." Leo takes her hand and presses his lips to her fingers before releasing her to go do her job.
"You two are cute," I tell him and steal his glass to drink the contents of his drink, too.
He sighs. "That was mine."
"You'll survive." I nudge him with my elbow. "Don't ignore what I said, though."
Leo scans the crowd, nodding at a man who waves at him. "It's nothing serious."
"Do you want it to be?"
He tilts his head at me. "I don't do serious."
"I mean, that could change. Don't you want to be in a relationship? Know that you're coming home every night to the same person?"
"That sounds like my worst nightmare." He drops our glasses onto a tray a server walking by is holding. "Sex with one person for the rest of your life."
"It doesn't have to be forever. You can commit to one person without it meaning marriage. Have you ever had a girlfriend?"
"I've had plenty of girlfriends."
"Girlfriends, Leo. Not hookups. Not people you're dating just to fuck. I mean people who you've introduced to your family. People who know something deeper than surface level about you."
"Grace has met the family."
"That doesn't count. She met the family before you guys started sleeping together."
Leo stops his scan of the crowd. "Grace and I haven't slept together."
"What?"
"She didn't tell you?"
I search until I find her, my sights settling on my best friend, who never mentioned to me that she and Leo weren't fucking. I feel like that's important information that could have been brought up at some point.
"Huh. That's interesting." Leo adjusts his suit jacket. "Yeah, we aren't. Not for lack of trying. At first, our schedules didn't allow for it. Now we've just sort of become friends who attend events with each other. Don't get me wrong, Grace is wicked sexy. I'd have sex with her right now if she wanted to go fuck in a coat closet."
I fold my arms over my chest, my bracelet almost catching on my dress. "And you're okay with this?"
Leo shrugs. "We've talked about it. We aren't exclusive. We can see other people."
"How very mature of you." I never would have assumed Leo would be the communicable type. He's an arrogant asshole, and somehow the most mature out of all the Sin brothers.
Leo raises his brows at me. "I mean, if you want to upgrade brothers, let me know. I'm sure Grace wouldn't mind."
I shove him again, this time a bit harder than before. "Shut up. You're disgusting."
He brushes off where I hit him.
"You aren't the brother I'd trade for, anyway," I tease him, knowing damn well I wouldn't mess with any of the others. Seven is crazy, and August and Ivy have an unspoken thing going on that I'm not sure if either of them is aware of. They're supposedly siblings but they have chemistry like they're secret lovers.
Leo gasps and holds his hand to his chest. "You hurt me, London." He presses his finger to his chin. "Let me guess, August. You have a daddy kink, don't you?"
"Please. He's, like, thirty-something."
"I believe big brother is thirty-six. And you're what, twenty?"
"Twenty-four, get it right."
"That's a pretty big age gap."
"Aren't you two the same age?" I ask him, despite being well aware that Leo is a few years younger. I just like giving him shit and doing anything I can to injure his ego.
"That's fucked up, London. I'm thirty-two. Arch is barely two years younger. You’re hurting my ego." He pauses and continues. "Wait a minute, you're telling me you'd go for Seven over me?"
"What can I say, I have a thing for bad boys, and for the record, I think your ego will be just fine." I survey the crowd, attempting to find someone to distract me from thinking about Archer. I'm having a good time chatting with Leo, but he's still his brother and that will never go away.
"Archer is a bad boy…Seven, he's a psycho." Leo sighs like he's holding back something he isn't willing to say.
"What's with that? Has he always been that way?"
Leo nods. "Yeah. It's gotten worse over time, though." He clears his throat. "Enough about my family. Let's dance." He holds out his hand to me and starts walking backward to the dance floor where only a few people are dancing. He wiggles his finger upward to entice me and I shake my head at him. "Aw, come on. Don't leave a guy hanging."
Reluctantly, I go after him, because what other choice do I have? Sure, I could get another drink from the bar and drown my sorrows until I forget about Archer, but there's no telling if the alcohol would make things worse.
Leo latches onto my hand, spinning me into his chest. I slam against him with a thud and we both laugh.
"One dance, then another drink, deal?" I say to him, intending to get a drink regardless of what he has to say.
"Deal." Leo twirls me again, this time away from him, and puts his hand on my waist, leading me beautifully.
The last time I danced was with Archer, but I shove that thought away, enjoying this moment here now.
"Admit it," he says. "You're having fun." Leo dips me, holding on to my back and preventing me from hitting the floor.
I stare up at him with an involuntary smile on my face. "Fine. It's not a terrible time."
He pulls me back onto both of my feet, more people joining around us as the music starts to fade.
"One more," I tell him. "Then we can get a drink."
He winks at me, and we dance through the next song, Leo twirling and spinning and dipping me here and there—this dress, this jewelry, this entire night making me feel like a princess, the only thing missing is my knight in shining armor.
The song stops and I do too, a bit out of breath.
"I think I'm ready for that drink," Leo says to me, his cheeks flushed, somehow making him even more handsome than he was before.With his hand on my lower back, he guides me across the dance floor and over to the bar, putting his finger in the air to get the bartender’s attention.
"Listen, don't let it go to your head," I tell him. "But every woman in here is looking at you."
He grins and orders our drinks, turning hisbacktoput his elbows on the bar while we wait. "Come here with one woman and leave withanother. That wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me."
"Then why are you scanning the crowd searching for your next victim."
"Victim?" he scoffs. "Any lady would be lucky to go home withLeoSin."
I take the drink the bartender brings, grateful I've commandeered Grace's rich date. It isn't that I don't want tocontributeto the charity, I just don't have as much disposable income as the rest of the people in attendance. Luckily, they picked me up on their way,otherwise,I might not have been able to cover the Uber to get me here.
"What made you guys choose that last name?" I ask him while stirring my almost third tequila old-fashioned.
"How much has Archer told you?"
I breathe deeply through my nose. "Do you have to say his name?"
Leo takes a drink out of his glass and puts his other hand in the air. "Geez, didn't realize you were so sensitive."
"I'm not sensitive."
"Whatever you say." He does another glance around the room before giving me his attention. "Long story short, we all changed our names when we aged out and collectively agreed with Sin, since that's what we built our freedom with."
"With sin?"
"Yeah, I mean, you know, pride, greed, wrath, so on and so forth. We weren't exactly virtuous. It just sort of fit. It felt right, so we went with it." Leo catches sight of something and his whole body tenses. "Shit." He pivots to try to block his view with me. "Hide me."
"What?" I glance over my shoulder, catching sight of a round, old man who's approaching. "Uh, I think it's too late."
"Mr. Sin," the old man croaks. "It's me, George Bannon."
Leo sighs and throws on his best poker face. "Mr. Bannon, hello. Pleasure seeing you here. It's been a while."
"I've been contacting your office," George tells him. "Your secretary keeps saying you're out, and I keep thinking what a busy man, that Mr. Sin ."
Leo fakes a laugh. "Yeah, that's me." He wraps his arm around my shoulders. "Let me introduce you, Mr. Bannon, this is London Smith. London, George Bannon, owner of Bannon Gaming."
I shake George's hand and he barely gives me a second glance as he focuses on Leo. I zone them out, not wanting to be a part of whatever that is, and assess the growing crowd of people mingling here and there. Through a massive set of doors, the tables are being set, dinner no doubt on the horizon. Grace had informed me there would be drinks and socializing, then dinner, speeches, then after-dinner cocktails with the hopes of getting donors intoxicated enough to pledge more before they're done.
A couple dances in the distance, the man stepping on the woman's feet so many times she finally stops and breaks away from him, leaving him there red-faced and unsure what to do. A creepy older man stands just along the dance floor, his eyes roaming every single woman in eyeshot range of him. He focuses on a tall blonde wearing a black dress hugging each one of her curves. I wander from Leo a bit, and watch the creep watch her, my attention splitting when a jet-black-haired woman approaches him from behind, bumping into him and offering him an apologetic embrace. I almost buy it as an accident until I see her slip his watch off his wrist and tuck it into her palm, the move so fucking slick I'm impressed. I keep my sights on her as he lands three more unsuspecting targets, securing a pair of cufflinks, another watch, and a wallet. I sip my drink and consider going over there and befriending her, but when I glance over at Leo, I lose the mystery girl altogether. She was right there, and it's like she vanished into thin air. Maybe I dreamed her up entirely, my mind doing something to entertain itself while Leo is talking business with his friend.
"Yeah, we'll be in touch," Leo says while patting Mr. Bannon on the shoulder and walking past him, putting his hand on my back and ushering me away from there. "Keep walking, don't stop, please." He doesn't let up until we're a safe distance away.
"What was that all about?" I ask him, searching for the mystery girl from this new angle, her robbing four people the highlight of my entire evening. I have no intention of telling anyone about it, because I support both women's rights and wrongs, and if stealing from the rich is what she does for fun, I say more power to her.
Leo downs his drink and takes mine out of my hand, swallowing down what’s left of it, too.
"Hey, what the hell!"
"Now we're even," he tells me. "By the way, thanks for checking out back there. I could have used your help."
"You were doing just fine without me, plus, that guy wasn't interested in me one bit. He had his sights on you."
"He's been begging me for years to merge with his company."
"And? What's so bad about that?" I chew my lip and wonder how expensive the drinks at the bar are and if I could afford to get us another round. I rummage through my bag, sifting through the dollars to find something more substantial. That's when I spot Archer's black Amex sitting at the bottom, staring up at me like it has a flashing sign. No, things between us have finally settled, I shouldn't stir the pot by using his card. Although…if he didn't want me to use it, he would have asked for it back. Maybe he shut it off, that would explain why he hasn't said a word about it. I guess there's only one way to find out…but on the very likely chance that he did, I'm not sure if I have enough cash on me to foot the bill.
"His business is clean," he tells me. "To merge with mine, that would be suicide. Now, if he died, I could acquire it at a low cost, expand my market, and pinch out the competition. You get the gist?"
"You're going to kill the old man?"
"Moments like this, London, I see what he sees in you." Leo stares right at me and I could punch him in the throat for implying what I think he's implying.
"Can I borrow twenty dollars?"
With a sigh, Leo pulls out his money clip, sliding off a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills, licking his thumb and pulling a few off. "Here." He shoves them into my hand.
"I said twenty, Leo." I pause. "Actually, no, it's fine, I'll take your money." I shove it into my purse and clasp it shut. "I'm getting us another round. I'll be right back. Stay out of trouble and don't kill anyone until I get back." I leave him there, heading straight to the bar without giving him a chance to follow me, because if he did, then he'd see me pull out Archer's American Express and try to use it. I don't particularly care if he knows but I don't want to lose face in front of him if it gets denied.
I go up to the bar and squeeze through a spot in the chaos, the last bartender who helped Leo coming right up to me.
"Two more tequila old-fashioneds?" He's already reaching for the ingredients without giving me a chance to interject, not like I would have anyway.
I tend to stick to the same thing once I get started out of fear of getting a gnarly hangover. It won't get rid of them completely, but it does lessen the likelihood of it happening.
"Please," I tell him and reach into my purse, latching onto Archer's black Amex, the weight of it gaudy in my grasp.
"Did I hear that right?" the guy next to me says. He's attractive, with his long on the top, short on the side dark hair and bright blue eyes. He's pretty in an annoying kind of way, like God decided to favor him a bit more than the rest of us "You're getting an old-fashioned with tequila? Never heard of such a thing." He points to the guy. "I'll have one of those, too."
I force a smile and keep looking ahead, my brain taking far too long to realize that this man is attempting to talk to me and I'm blatantly ignoring him. "Sorry, I'm being a total bitch." I turn toward him and extend my hand. "I'm London, and yes, it's a weird combination but it's really good. Trust the process."
He smiles, exposing his excessively white and perfectly aligned teeth. "Blake Manor." There's a sort of twinkle to him that makes me uneasy but I'm not sure if I should blame him or the entire environment itself, all this feeling a hint too on the nose for what I'm used to back home. And here I am, an imposter among them with barely two pennies to rub together.
We shake hands and his touch lingers longer than normal.
"Miss," the bartender says. "That'll be thirty-seven even. Sir, yours is eighteen fifty."
"Allow me," Blake chimes in, putting his hand out to stop me from reaching forward with the card in my hand.
My lips part to stop him but I don't out of fear it wouldn't work anyway. With the money from Leo, I would have had plenty to cover it, I just didn't want to deal with the awkwardness of what-ifs.
"Thanks," I tell him and take the two drinks that belong to me. "I'm over here, with a friend." I point in the direction Leo is, our eyes meeting from across the way, his expression shifting when he spots me, his feet moving away from the couple he's talking to without hesitation.
"You're here with Leo Sin?" the man asks while sipping the old-fashioned.
"Yeah, you know him?" I walk a few steps away from the bar, Blake coming with me as Leo approaches.
"Blake," Leo greets him with not even a hint of friendliness in his tone.
"Leo." Blake remains cool and collected, neither of them letting on that they probably want to kill each other right here and now. If I had to guess, they're rivals of some sort, but I doubt either of them is going to confess the truth, not to me.
"Are your brothers here?" Leo takes one of the glasses from me.
"Here, there, you know how brothers are." Nothing about what Blake said just made sense and I don't bother questioning him because it's none of my business and I don't actually care all that much. "And yours?"
"Oh, you know, the same."
"Can you two be any more vague?" I scan the floor for Mystery Girl again, the music picking up and playing a faster-paced ballad. I chug my drink, shoving my glass toward Leo. "Here." I shift my attention to Blake, grabbing his hand and guiding him away. "Let's dance."
"London, don't you—" Leo gets out but it's too late, I've already made my mind up, and even though he claims there's nothing serious going on between him and Grace, he isn't willing to ruin her night by making a scene.
"I thought you'd never ask." Blake grins and spins me into him, his chest broad and strong. His hand finds my waist and he guides us farther into the crowd and I'm grateful that Leo disappears from my line of sight with his judgmental glare. He was helping me hunt for a distraction, what's wrong with Blake? He seems like a perfectly suitable choice.
"Are you married?" I ask him, the question so out of line.
He chuckles and continues dancing, not for a second hesitating. "No. I am not married. Are you?"
"I am not."
Blake tilts his head in the direction we came. "And Leo Sin, are you two dating?"
This time it's my turn to laugh. "No. He's dating my best friend, Grace."
He raises a brow. "Grace McCallister, as in, the senator's daughter?"
"I'd argue that she's much more than the senator’s daughter."
"Oh, my apologies. How dare I assume." He extends his hand, twirling me around and back to him. "Interesting friends you keep."
"What about you? You come here alone? Where are your friends?"
"I have friends all over." He leans in close. "Maybe you'll be one of them."
A chill runs up my spine and I can't decipher whether it was poorly timed with him saying that or if my intuition is trying to tell me something. The alcohol coursing through me can't be bothered, not when my mind is finally distracted.
"Are you always vague?" I hold on to him, his body swaying with mine, everything about us in sync with each other.
Blake stares down at me, something about it reminding me of Archer, my brain not wanting to let it fucking rest. "What do you want to know, love?"
"How do you know Leo?"
"We're business associates."
"Why are you here tonight?"
"To support a great charity."
"What did you eat for dinner?"
"Steak and lobster."
"How many people have you killed?"
"I stopped counting." The words are out of his mouth before he can take them back, his grip on me tightening, his expression darkening. "That was a joke, obviously."
"Obviously," I scoff and keep dancing, because what other choice do I have? I could push him away, cause a scene, or finish the song and part ways. I have to act unbothered and pretend like he didn't just admit to being a murderer. I'm no stranger to killers, but I prefer to know mine a bit more so I can determine whether I'll be added to that list.
But I don't get a chance to finish the song, and neither does he, because something catches my attention from behind him. I settle my gaze on Archer fucking Sin barreling toward us like he might slaughter everyone in this place.
My mouth drops open and I freeze in place, unsure of what to do. I don't want to ruin Grace's night, but all I see is Archer and his hands balled into fists.
"Get your fucking hands off of her," Archer says through gritted teeth, putting his hand between me and Blake, breaking us apart.
Blake matches his energy. "Don't touch me, Archer."
They glare at each other, not quite drawing an excessive amount of attention toward themselves, but the kettle brews and is at risk of boiling over any second now.
Leo rushes over and grabs Archer's shoulder. "Hey, buddy, simmer down."
Archer shoves Leo, hard. "I'll deal with you later."
"Deal me with? What the fuck did I do?" Leo rubs the spot on his chest Archer hit.
"Stop it," I announce. "All of you. You're being dramatic."
"You know this guy?" Blake looks at me but points to Archer. "He your boyfriend?"
"No." I say at the same time Archer says, "Yes."
I whip my head at him. "Excuse me? You fucking wish."
"London, now is not the time or place," Archer tells me.
My eyes go wide. "Oh, it's not? You barge in here acting like some tough guy, and I'm the problem?"
"I'll deal with you later," Archer says, the same thing he said to Leo, but this time, to me.
"You're not serious," I blurt out, ready to punch Archer for being such an asshole. I thought Leo was the arrogant brother, not Archer. "You're such a fucking child, you know that, Archer?" I glare at him before turning on my heel and storming away. They can figure their shit out themselves, it's not my problem and I won't be a part of it.
"Where are you going?" Leo calls after me.
I don't stop, I keep going, not even when I can hear footsteps trailing behind me, my fist forming and ready to land on whoever is following me out. But once I'm through the doors, I'm met with flashing lights, the camera people hungry to take photos of anyone walking out those doors. I squint and shield my eyes, marching past them and onto the sidewalk in front of the gorgeous building where Grace is hosting her gala. "Shit," I mutter, realizing I never got a chance to say goodbye. I promised her I would, that I wouldn't ghost her, but Archer and his scene sort of forced my hand. Hopefully, she'll understand that.
"London, wait." Archer reaches out and grabs my arm, causing me to halt to a stop, his grip firm. He releases me the second I'm no longer moving away from him, like I might catch him on fire.
I spin toward him, crossing my arms over my chest. "What do you want?" It's then that I see Leo and Blake hot on Archer's heel. The two of them shove each other. "Children, all of you."
"Get your hands off of me," Blake tells Leo and pushes him aside, stopping next to Archer. "Are you okay?"
"Don't pretend like you care," I say to him. "You probably knew about me and Archer the whole time, just trying to get under his skin." I point at Leo. "And you, if you don't get back in there and support Grace, I'll hire someone to kill you."
Blake raises a brow and clears his throat.
Archer shoots him a dangerous glance. "Not a word out of you."
"Don't speak over him," I tell Archer. "You have no right."
"I don't think I should leave yet." Leo scratches his chin and motions to Archer and Blake.
"Your families have some kind of agreement, correct?" I tap the toe of my heel impatiently.
"Yes," Archer is the first to say.
"Then it's fine." I shoo Leo. "Leave. Now. Tell her I'm sorry."
Leo sighs like he's disappointed he's going to miss something and leaves us be. He collects a few photographers who are lingering and gets them to give us some privacy.
"Listen, I don't care if you two rip each other’s throats out, but I need a ride home, so who's it going to be?" I steady a glance between them, knowing damn well I'm not going to go home with Blake, but not wanting to go with Archer either. I guess I could use the cash I took from Leo to pay for a cab, but that doesn't sit well with me either. Suddenly, a chill rattles through me, the night breeze nipping my exposed skin.
"Here, you're cold." Blake unbuttons his jacket. "I can take you home."
Archer slams his arm into Blake's chest. "Over my dead body."
"Don't tempt me with a good time," Blake tells him. "You keep putting your hands on me and I'm going to make damn sure of it."
"It's fine," I say. "Archer's going in my direction anyway. Thanks, though." I reach toward Blake, patting his shoulder. "I appreciate it." It's not lost on me that Archer's jaw tenses at witnessing me touch Blake, but he maintains his composure, probably because I admitted I'd leave with him.
"Are you sure?" Blake asks me, his eyes staring into mine, something so dangerous and unsettling about his gaze.
"I'm sure," I lie, not being sure of anything at all, especially right now, with Archer hovering like he's going to kill anyone who even looks in my direction.
With a final sigh, Blake decides he doesn't want to take things further tonight and leaves me and Archer behind, my chest tightening at being this close, this alone with him. I rub my arms and avoid Archer as if he might disappear if I don't settle right on him.
He unzips his hoodie, sliding it off and revealing a black t-shirt and his tattooed arms. Archer doesn't even bother asking for my permission as he drapes it over my shoulders and shoves each of my hands through the sleeves.
I don't fight him because I am cold, and there's something about the way the fabric is still warm from his skin that does something to me.
Archer chuckles, almost to himself, but it’s enough I can hear it.
“What’s so funny?” I ask him.
“Nothing.”
“No, what is it? Share it with the class.”
Archer’s jaw tenses and he speaks, “You ruined my birthday.”
“What?”
“Today, it’s my birthday. I told you, you could ruin it, you know, since I ruined yours. And you did without even realizing it. It’s just kind of funny.”
“Oh,” I say. “I, uh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“It’s not a big deal.” Archer pauses. "Come on," he tells me, putting his hand on my back, but not too low, and guiding me back in the direction we came.
I stop, his feet coming to a halt, too.
"What is it?" he asks, his tone the softest it's been all night.
"I don't want to go home with you," I admit.
"You're not going home with me, London. I'm taking you home. There's a difference."
I continue walking, each of the photographers dropping their cameras upon our approach, Archer shooting each of them a threatening glance. We reach a motorcycle and that's when it hits me that Archer got here so quickly because he was on his stupid bike.
"I'm not getting on that thing, it's a deathtrap," I protest.
"You don't have a choice, London."
"I always have a choice, Archer."
"That's not what I meant, and you know it." Archer runs his hand through his long hair and grabs the helmet off the hook in the back, releasing it and spreading the straps wide. "I'm going to put this on your head, little tornado, and then I'm going to take you home. Okay?"
I motion at my dress. "Not in this. It'll get ruined."
"I'll buy you another one."
"There's only a few of them made."
"Five," Archer corrects me. "I'll buy the other four if it really matters to you."
"Fine. Put the damn helmet on." I stare at him as he does. "You should wear one of these, though. It's not fair that I have to and you don't."
"Would it make you feel better if I wore one?"
"Would you if I said yes?"
"I'd consider it." Archer tightens the strap under my neck and shuts the visor before throwing his leg over the bike and turning on the engine. It roars to life and I contemplate running away, but I know Archer would catch me quicker than I could get away.
I breathe in, hike the dress up, and step onto the back foot peg, using Archer's hand to help me climb onto the back seat. "These aren't exactly the right shoes for this," I tell him.
"Wrap your arms around me." Archer glances back. "Hold on tight."
I do what he says, using his instructions as an excuse to feel his body against mine. I hate that even after a month, I still hate and want him the same. I would have thought all that time would have made it fizzle out, but it's done nothing to ease the ache in my chest at how things ended.
Archer slides a pair of clear glasses onto his face, shifts the bike into gear, and eases onto the throttle. He slips us into the traffic around the gala with great caution and only drives a few miles an hour over the speed limit the entire way back to the apartment complex we both live in. He pulls us into the parking garage, and I have to remind myself that we’ve stopped and that I can take my arms off of him. He helps me off the bike, removes the helmet, and pats down my hair.
His eyes meet mine and I regret ever leaving with him.
"I'm so fucking mad at you," I whisper.
"Good, then maybe that means there's still hope for us."