Chapter 11
HARLOW
Iscanned the crowds, trying to look over their shoulders. She had to be here somewhere.
Archer caught my arm. "What is it?" My concern was contagious by the sound of it.
"Erin was right there, now she's gone," I said pushing down a spike of panic. What were the chances of her and Solomon Danforth being out of sight at the same time? The place was packed, but I should be able to see one of them.
"She can't be too far." Archer stood on his toes and started looking as well.
"We're not being very inconspicuous," I pointed out.
He hesitated and dropped back down. Sipped his champagne and tried to look like nothing was going on.
"Very subtle," I said with a sigh. "We need to find her."
I pulled out my phone and sent a text to Boner and Cass, asking if they could see her.
Almost immediately, my phone buzzed with responses from both.
Neither could.
I caught sight of Boner near his office door, gesturing something at me. Asking if I wanted him to turn off the music and tell everyone to look for her.
I gave a small shake of my head. That would definitely not be inconspicuous.
"I'm going to check the restrooms." I headed toward them, pushing through and gaining myself a bunch of irritated glances.
"Where are you going in a hurry?" a smooth voice asked.
He was subjectively attractive, with dark blonde hair and green eyes. His cheeks were covered with a layer of stubble so perfect he might have trimmed it with a pair of scissors and a magnifying mirror.
"You could stick around for a while," he said. "Would you like another drink?"
"I really have to go to the restroom," I said, giving him a brief smile.
"On the way back then," he said without a sign of chagrin.
"She's not here alone," Archer said, his tone bordering on menacing.
Mr. Smooth gave him an amused glance over his own champagne flute. "So I see." He let his gaze drop, sizing Archer up and seeming unimpressed. Turning back to me, he smiled.
"The offer still stands."
"Yeah, thanks." I stepped past him and over to the restrooms. Pushed inside and took a look around.
"Erin?" The stall doors were open, with no one inside. No couples having a quickie, hoping to stay out of sight. No one with a platter of shrimp, polishing it off alone in a corner, crying over their broken heart. I'm totally not projecting here, promise.
I stepped back and let the door close. "She's not in there."
"She could be outside," Archer suggested.
I nodded and followed him back the other way, towards the exit.
Stepping out into the night air, I scanned the street one way, then the other. I saw no sign of a young woman in a yellow floral dress. No hint she was here recently. Just a couple of others who mingled outside, one sucking on a cigar.
I wrinkled my nose at the smell and shook my head.
"She's not here."
"Could she have gone home?" Archer asked.
"I don't think she would have left without telling me," I said uncertainly.
Could I rule it out? I was her boss, not her mother. She didn't have to inform me of her comings and goings. Still, it wasn't like her to leave something like this without a wave, at the bare minimum.
"She and Solomon Danforth seem to have left around the same time," I said reluctantly.
"They were on opposite sides of the room," Archer said with a frown.
The fact he knew that didn't surprise me. He'd probably memorized every face there, what they wore, where they stood and who they spoke to. The man was like a sponge for information and knowledge.
"One of the people she was talking to might be Eros," I said.
A chill passed through me. If she was with him right now… If he was touching her, I'd rip his cock off and stuff it into cannelloni. Then I'd make him eat it.
"We could talk to the—" Archer started.
"What are you doing out here?" Erin's voice behind me made me startle and spin around.
I grabbed her up in a hug, which drew a surprised squeak from her.
"I know we haven't spoken for an hour or two…" she said with a laugh.
"I was worried about you," I admitted. "Where have you been?" I dropped my arms and stepped back, appraising her. She didn't look rumpled in any way. Her hair was neat, her dress uncreased.
"I went into the back of the gallery to make sure the servers knew to pass around the sliders," she said, frowning at me. "I hadn't seen them carrying them. They're taking them around now. Why, what did you think was happening?"
"Aren't I allowed to worry about you?" I asked instead of answering.
A shadow passed over her expression. Memories of her past. Understanding why I'd be concerned.
"I'd never let that happen again," she said softly. "If anyone tried anything in there, I'd scream the place down. Or claw their eyes out." She scratched the air with her fingernails. Her lips drawn back, teeth bared.
Her fierce look melted into a smile as she dropped her hands. "Besides, I've been to self defense classes with you, remember? I can take care of myself."
"I know you can," I said. "I worry and sometimes I'm not trusting."
"Sometimes?" she scoffed. "Only most of the time." She leaned toward Archer and whisper-shouted, "It's a miracle she trusts you. And Cass. And Boner."
"We're very trustworthy," Archer said evenly. "I am, at least. The others are a little dubious."
Erin laughed. "Anyway, this has been fun. I might call it a night." She tapped on her phone to call a ride share. A small, white car pulled up in front of the gallery a minute or two later.
I waited until she was safely inside and the car peeling away from the curb before I let out a breath.
"You think she'd mind if I put a tracking chip on her?" I was only half joking.
"Not on her personally, and not without consent," Archer said, which was remarkably unhelpful if you ask me. It's not like I hadn't already broken a bunch of laws. What was one more? Especially if it helped to keep her safe.
Okay, I wasn't going to put a tracker on her. When it came down to it, Erin wasn't a puppy. She'd be furious if she found out I was keeping tabs on her. The trust I'd built with her would be gone. That would devastate us both.
"Fine," I said on a sigh. "Let's go back in there. I need another drink."
Archer took my hand and we walked back into the gallery, where the crowds had already started to thin. There was still no sign of Solomon Danforth, and Mr. Smooth seemed to have left as well. Only a couple of handfuls of people remained, talking in small groups and enjoying my sliders.
"Looks like this was a waste of time," Jules said, approaching us with a beer in hand. Cass trailed behind, looking uncomfortable.
"Not at all." Boner smiled his apology to the people he was talking to and stepped over to join us. "I sold three paintings and a sculpture." He shifted from foot to foot, his eyes shining.
"Whoopee-fucking-doo," Jules said sarcastically. "I thought the point was to—"
Cass elbowed him, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Relax and have a nice time," he said firmly.
"What Titmus the younger said," Boner said. "Have you ever been to a proctologist? I thoroughly recommend it, to get the stick out of your ass."
I choked back a laugh while Jules glared at Boner.
"You're a fucking idiot," Jules snarled.
Boner grinned. "I know this will come as a complete surprise to you, but that's not the first time someone's said that to me. It's not even the tenth. It might be the eleventh or twelfth." He shrugged.
Jules rolled his eyes. "What the hell are you doing with these people?" he asked his brother.
My teeth clenched, I said, "No one made you come here." It wasn't until Boner chuckled that I realized what I'd said. If anyone was going to make someone come around here, it would be Cass. That wasn't in the sense I'd intended though.
Jules glared at me.
I glared back.
"Do you want help finding these pricks or not?" he asked in a tight voice.
"If we have to put up with you—" Boner started.
"Of course we want help," Cass said, interrupting. "Jules is an electrician. He can be useful."
"I know who to call if the power goes out," I said dryly.
"You know what, fuck this," Jules snapped. "All any of you will do is get in my way." He turned and stalked toward the door.
"Jules—" Cass started.
"No, Cassius." Jules threw his hands up, dropped them to his sides and headed out the door.
I was going to need something stronger than champagne.
"I should go after him," Cass said. "He might do something stupid."
"The odds of that seem pretty good," Boner said cheerfully.
I punched his bicep lightly. If I did it hard, I'd hurt myself on his firm muscle.
"That's not helping," I said.
"Titmus the elder needs to learn to have a laugh," Boner said. "Archer, what do they say about laughing?"
"Research has shown that people who laugh more often can live up to and beyond their hundreds," Archer said. "Depends if you want that or not."
"Who wouldn't want to live until they're old and wrinkled?" Boner asked. "That's my plan. Imagine how cute me and Harlow will be when we're a hundred years old." He gave me a soft smile.
Cass was staring at me like he hadn't contemplated being around me for so long. He seemed to like the idea. He was still tense, still not forgiving, but whatever was growing between us wasn't dead. Finding out what I'd done hadn't killed it.
Archer had a similar, contemplative expression on his face, just a hint of it in his eyes.
"We have to live that long first," I reminded them.
"We will," Boner said with his usual, unshakeable confidence. "Or die trying."
That was more likely.
Cass shook his head, gave me a faint smile, and hurried off after his brother.
"What is this?" Boner said, putting an arm around my waist. "A wake? This is supposed to be a party. More champagne for everyone!" He gestured a server over and passed glasses around to Archer and me, before taking one for himself.
"I propose a toast. To living for a long time, and fucking loving every minute of it." He raised his glass.
I half expected Archer to quote some statistic about the chances of loving every minute of life, but instead he clinked his glass against ours and took a drink.
While I drank, I scanned the room again. Still no sign of Solomon Danforth, or Mr. Smooth.
No doubt the latter found someone more interesting to leave with. Someone as slick as him always did. He was the kind of guy I'd smile at if he came into my restaurant, and be polite, but nothing more. I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him. Or as far as I could drag his dead body.
I put him out of my mind and listened to Boner tell a silly story about his first few days in the city.
Tried to listen anyway. My mind was turning over, wondering if Eros had turned up at all.
Had I walked past him and not known? He could have been here all along, mingling with everyone, enjoying the food I made.
Chances were, he hadn’t, and all of this was for nothing.
If that was the case, why did I feel so uneasy?