Chapter 12 #2
When it was their turn, the SUVs rolled up to the red carpet and came to a smooth halt.
Jamie squared his shoulders and got out, face a mask of polite disinterest for the gathered crowd, all his attention on helping Kyle out of the SUV.
Donovan and Annabelle exited the vehicle after them, and they waited a few moments for the rest of their team to exit the second SUV.
Alexei offered his arm to Katie, with Sean trailing behind them.
Jamie smiled at Katie as they headed up the stone steps to the entrance situated beneath the grand stone archway, ignoring the camera flashes that brightened the way.
They’d eschewed coats, despite the January winter night.
Snow rarely fell in London anymore, and the temperature wasn’t even close to freezing.
The chilly wind was easy to ignore for the few minutes they were out in it.
The length between their vehicles and the door was nothing compared to the cold training they’d all gone through in the military.
Heads up, eyes open, Jamie said through the mental links Katie had tethered between everyone’s minds.
The mental response of Oorah from most of his team was comforting.
They joined the short queue to log their prints for the guest list just inside the door, chatting amicably amongst themselves about innocuous subjects.
The key to getting through a party like this without offending anyone was to keep the surface conversations bland and tailored to the politics of the room, to not make waves if your status was below everyone else’s, and to always, always smile.
Jamie reflected on what he’d been taught by his parents growing up and ruthlessly discarded every ingrained habit in favor of making a scene.
They walked one at a time through a portable body scanner, each of them getting cleared by the security manning the event. No one on the team carried any guns, though Jamie doubted that would be the case for everyone invited tonight.
“Please tell me this isn’t what your family does for fun?” Kyle asked under his breath as they moved away from the security area near the door.
“My mother has standing invites to nearly every major charity event, gala, party, you name it, on two continents. If she wanted, she could attend a party every night of the year and still miss out on others,” Jamie said a little wryly.
Kyle looked vaguely horrified at that confession.
Jamie reached out and grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together. “Don’t worry. You’d only ever have to go to the ones I’m required to go to.”
“That’s what scares me because I know how moms are when they want you to do something.”
Jamie couldn’t help but laugh at that, his amusement drawing several appreciative glances from the women around him and one or two men. “I’d make it worth your while to join me.”
“And on that note, I’m off,” Katie said, patting Jamie on the arm as she swept past him. “Try not to embarrass yourselves or my company tonight.”
“No promises,” Kyle said with a leer directed more at Jamie than at her.
Trevor followed after Katie while Sean led Alexei in a different direction, Annabelle a shadow they couldn’t shake. Donovan and Madison stayed less than an arm’s reach from Jamie and Kyle as they slowly made their way forward.
The rotunda just past the entrance was awash in glittering lights, all reflected by the vast crystal chandelier hanging above the reception desk currently manned by high-ranking museum representatives.
Jamie brushed past their attempts to greet him, swiping a glass of champagne off one of several floating drink trays a server—not one of their people—was monitoring in the crowd.
He threw it back, making a face at the vintage.
He’d never cared much for champagne, preferring whiskey over wine, but he’d drink it.
Handing the empty glass off to a different server, he grabbed two more glasses from a different tray and passed one to Kyle.
Kyle stayed by his side, a quiet, unobtrusive presence who smiled winningly at the first two people Jamie smoothly and politely insulted before moving on to a French-Somali businessman who barely got a handful of words in before Jamie cut him off with “You have nothing to offer me.”
He left, and maybe the man would’ve tried to follow, except Donovan blocked his way with an unfriendly smile that promised to stop the man if he tried.
Jamie ignored the insults in French being spat at him from behind, grabbing Kyle by the hand and walking through a pair of pillars into the wing directly ahead, where other guests were gathered.
Jamie made eye contact with several UMG metahumans as they mingled through two galleries, commenting on design artwork he had no interest in.
The clothing on display in one room was a special exhibition for a designer who peaked thirty years ago; Jamie loudly decried the representation lacked taste before leaving for the next room.
“Admit it,” Kyle said as he popped a piece of filet mignon wrapped in bacon into his mouth, pulling it off the metal skewer it was stuck on using his teeth. “You like pissing people off.”
“Useless people annoy me,” Jamie replied.
“I must say, I do agree with that mindset. It’s so refreshing to hear one speak so plainly at an event like this,” said an older woman decked out in a white evening gown and enough diamonds to blind a man. “You must be the American irritating my contemporaries.”
Jamie smiled indulgently at her. “I see no reason to coddle people who aren’t worth my time.”
She laughed, the sound smooth and rich, and extended her right hand to him in a delicate way.
Her left held a flute of champagne, the diamond on her ring finger larger than her knuckle and covering the secondary marriage band beneath it.
As Jamie watched, the white of her column gown changed color to a gorgeous blue before fading into a multitude of deep purples and gray and then back to white.
She’d gone with a tech gown over one with cutouts, and it suited her tall, lithe form.
“My husband says the same thing.”
“A smart man, Mrs.—?”
“Dame Caroline Wallace. I’m in the business of acquisitions.”
“My apologies, Dame Wallace. Jamie Callahan, at your service,” he said with a smile, taking her hand and making a show of kissing the air above her knuckles. “I’m in the business of money.”
Dame Wallace’s eyes sharpened at the sound of his name; Jamie could almost see her racing thoughts reflected in her eyes. “Well, the buzz going around about an American in our presence didn’t mention that.”
“If the people complaining about my opinions don’t know who I am, then they don’t deserve to be in my presence.”
Dame Wallace arched a brow at that, nodding agreement. “Do you know, I believe I’ve met your parents before. Several years ago, by my count. It was at the reopening of Empyrean’s launch station after renovations in the South East of England. I don’t recall you being there.”
“I was deployed at the time. My absence was unavoidable, though I’m working on rectifying that now.”
She didn’t have to feign her curiosity, though it came off more blatant than was probably considered polite for a woman of her standing. “Are you no longer with your country’s military?”
Jamie waved off the question. “Once a Marine, always a Marine, but deployment is no longer in my future. I’m looking for other ways to pass the time.”
Jamie made a point of tugging Kyle closer. Dame Wallace’s eyes strayed to Kyle’s silent presence, full mouth quirking just a bit in a vaguely condescending way. “I can see you’ve found one already.”
“He does entertain me,” Jamie agreed, a smirk on his face that was easy to interpret. “Is your husband here tonight?”
Dame Wallace took the opening for what it was and chatted about things Jamie had no interest in, but he took her contact information with the promise of a meeting to discuss what security Root Source, Inc. could provide her family’s business.
“I entertain you?” Kyle asked as they walked away, chewing on the metal skewer.
Jamie pulled it out of his mouth, dropping it on the tiled floor with a faint clatter as they entered a long gallery full of marble sculptures—busts, life-sized statues, and every size in between. “You entertain me all the time, especially when you’re on your knees.”
“I’m sure we can find a room somewhere around here to pass the time if that’s what you really want.”
Jamie ignored the politely disgusted look a passing guest gave them as they came to a stop in front of a sculpture consisting of three women hugging. Jamie reached out and grabbed Kyle’s chin in firm fingers, tilting his head back so Jamie could look directly into Kyle’s eyes.
“If I wanted you on your knees, you would be there. Tonight, we’re working,” Jamie said.
“I still find it a shame a man like you isn’t as much of an exhibitionist I originally pegged you for,” a familiar voice said. “You controlling types do like showing off what belongs to you, after all.”
Kyle’s green eyes narrowed. Can I shoot him? Please?
You don’t even have a gun on you, Jamie replied.
I can get one.
No.
Worst captain ever.
Jamie let go of Kyle’s chin and curved his arm around the smaller man in a possessive manner before turning to face Niko.
The Dutchman was impossible to miss in a tuxedo more on trend than anyone else’s in the room.
The dark burgundy wool paired with a black dress shirt was a spot of color in a sea of black suits.
Standing next to him was a woman who looked like she’d stepped off a fashion runway—arm candy only, judging by the way Niko squeezed her ass and sent her on her way with an indulgent smile.
“As I told you at Vesuvius,” Jamie coolly said, “I don’t like sharing.”
“A pity, that.” Niko took a sip of what looked like a gin and tonic, his eyes never leaving Jamie’s face. “Are you enjoying yourself so far?”