24. Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jacob
The Fitzgerald is decked out and I am thoroughly surprised at the level of which Garrett was able to achieve on such short notice.
The place looks like something straight out of a dream.
All black and gold, with champagne towers, a giant cake.
Dinner is a buffet of food that looks fancier than anything I’ve ever eaten in my life, and that’s saying something considering some of the corporate events I’ve accompanied Bella to.
Garrett wasn’t kidding about this being black tie. Everyone is dressed up. Even Lola has a formal dress—a short feathery purple dress and heels that screams Lavender Haze.
But Aaron— Aaron steals the fucking show, ten times over.
I can’t stop stealing glances at him in his black suit.
I knew he’d look amazing, if only because he looks like a damn GQ model in pretty much anything—and nothing at all, if I’m being honest. But it’s the small details that mean the most. His hot pink tie that matches mine; an ode to our first date.
It’s his perfectly trimmed facial hair and his spicy, earthy cologne.
And underneath the neon lights, he looks perfect; like something straight out a book. Like my very own Richard Gere.
Still, despite the beauty surrounding me, I tense at Aaron’s side, because there is no way we can beat this. This… it’s elegant and seductive and formal and everything you would think of when you hear the name Tempest. No wonder they’re known for opulence.
“It’s so fucking pretty,” I murmur in defeat.
Aaron grabs my hand. “Yes, you are.”
My cheeks heat as I try to brush off his flirtations. It’s cheesy as fuck, but I can’t pretend that his words don’t soothe something inside of me.
“No, I mean this party. It’s…”
He tugs my hand, leading me into the room.
“It’s just smoke and mirrors. Just money.”
He turns to look at me. “It doesn’t have any feeling. Any charm.”
His words are not lost on me. It’s just money.
He says the words like they truly mean nothing, and to him, maybe that’s true. But it’s that one sentence, that one phrase that breaks the illusion.
It’s just money, but money is why I’m here. It’s why he hired me.
But to me, it’s not about the money.
Not anymore.
“So glad you made it, boys,” Garrett says as he and George approach us. He looks at me with a grin. “Well, you clean up nice.”
I grip Aaron’s hand.
“Yes, well, some of us naturally have class,” Aaron says.
Garrett chuckles as his gaze roves over me judgmentally. “Yes, some of us are born with it, I suppose. I do hope you enjoy yourselves tonight.”
“We will,” Aaron says, tugging me away.
“Asshole,” I bite out under my breath as Aaron pulls me towards the champagne fountain.
“Hey.” Aaron regards me with his steady gaze. “Don’t let him get to you, he’s not worth it, I promise.”
I look up at him, his words hanging in the air between us. Easier said than done.
Aaron grabs a glass from the fountain and hands it to me.
“I’m just saying our little movie extravaganza is nothing compared to this.” I sigh.
“You’re the one who said it’s not about the money,” he says, grabbing a drink of his own. “That it would actually be more beneficial and appealing if we didn’t spend it all. Besides, our event will be better because we have class.” Aaron nudges my shoulder.
“You mean you have class,” I say, sipping my champagne.
Aaron grasps my chin with his finger, forcing me to look up at him.
“No,” he says steadily. “You have more class in your fucking pinky than Garrett Tempest has in his entire fucking body.”
If only that were true…
I force a smile, feeling my nerves get the better of me. “If you say so.”
Aaron drinks the remainder of his glass, and I do the same.
“Come on, pretty baby, let’s dance,” he says, and I can’t help but follow him to the dance floor. The dark, smooth beats of “Young decked out in a red sequin gown that’s throwing fiery prisms across the parquet floor.
Aaron tightens his grip as I slide my hands up his chest, around his neck.
“I think it’s quite lovely, actually,” he says, his voice smooth and warm.
I turn to look at him, noticing the intense glimmer in his eyes as his gaze dips to my mouth.
“Have you ever read it?” he asks.
“Huh?”
“The Great Gatsby?” Aaron’s voice is soft, smooth. Like aged whiskey.
“Of course I’ve read it,” I say petulantly. “Who hasn’t? It’s required reading in high school.”
“You don’t like it.” He smirks.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Your eyes did.” He leans closer, his forehead brushing mine. His warm brown eyes find mine far too easily.
“I’m surprised. I thought you loved romance,” he teases.
“I do, I just—” I sigh. “It’s not really a happy ending. Romance is supposed to have a happy ending.”
The musician swings into a jazzy, somber cover of “Don’t Say It’s Over” by Crowded House, and Aaron tightens his grip on my waist. I feel the heat from his palms, warm through my suit jacket.
“I think it’s more realistic that way,” Aaron says smoothly. “They might not have had a happy ending, but… his love never faded.”
“She didn’t deserve him, though,” I say, my voice breaking just the slightest. “She was selfish and afraid and—”
Aaron’s lips find mine swiftly, chasing away the words on my tongue.
When he breaks away, I can’t help but lose myself in the warmth of his gaze.
“But he still loved her, despite all of that,” he whispers. “I think that’s romantic.”
I tighten my arms around his neck. “I knew you had a flaw.” I smirk.
Aaron chuckles as the singer continues to serenade us with soft hey now ’s that echo in the cavernous space. The lights shine on him like a red-rimmed halo.
“Well, we can’t all be perfect like Prince Charming, now can we?
” he whispers, sliding his hands up and down my waist, my back.
I relish the feel of his touch, of his hold.
I wish I could freeze this moment forever.
I glance to my left, noting Garrett across the room with his champagne glass, George animatedly talking to someone.
Garrett glares daggers at me, his gaze making my blood chill as the memories try to resurface.
I look away, back at Aaron, back into his poignant gaze.
And like Gatsby, I search for the light, the anchor I need to forget about the past and the future.
All I need is this moment; the present. So that’s what I focus on.
All night I feel Garrett’s eyes on me. Watching me like a hawk. The singer croons out a smooth, dark rendition of Adele’s “Chasing Pavements” as I grab myself a glass of champagne, my eyes on the door next to Daisy’s. My memory wanders to last night, to Aaron’s confessions.
He’d been with Garrett on and off for decades.
He said he never loved him. But he loves me.
Is love enough, though? Can love withstand the barriers between us?
I don’t know. I don’t know if once this is over, if it’s really over.
I don’t know what’s real anymore. I’ve been living in a fantasy too long at this point to remember what reality is.
But soon enough I’ll have to go back to reality. The question is will he come with me? Does my reality include him?
The night goes smoothly. Lola and I dance to all the upbeat pop songs, and in between I enjoy the food—most of it is good even if I don’t know what it is—and free-flowing champagne, if only to alleviate my nerves.
Aaron finds me once more when the singer performs “Wildest Dreams” by my favorite girl, Taylor, and he wraps his arms around my waist. I look up at him beneath the neon lights, my heart beating like a freight train as I stare up at Mr. Perfect, in all his glory.
I whisper along with Taylor’s words, begging him to remember me, even if it’s only in his dreams. My voice shakes, the truth of her lyrics lodged in my throat.
I love you. I know I shouldn’t, but I do.
“Always, baby,” he says, tightening his grip on me. He kisses me. Long and slow, and I forget about everything. About fake relationships and lies and exes and jobs notwithstanding.
I kiss him under those lights like tonight is all I have.
When he finally lets go, he smiles. “I’m going to get another drink. You want anything?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m good, thanks.”
I already feel dizzy enough from the champagne, this man, that kiss…
I take a deep breath and head for the exit. I need to breathe. I need air.
Making my way through the building, the shadows covet me.
I push through the crowd in the main lobby bar area until I’m outside.
I sigh, breathing deeply as the cool air kisses my skin.
Walking along the sidewalk, I find my way along the walkway and bridge over the water.
I stop, looking out at the sea and close my eyes.
“Whatever he’s paying you, I’ll double it.”
I freeze, not wanting to open my eyes so I don’t have to look at him, but I can’t help myself.
I turn to see Garrett, standing there in his suit, looking dapper as fuck.
I hate it.
“He’s not paying me,” I say, but we both know it’s a lie. Garrett laughs. “And as far as we’re concerned, I will never work with you again,” I say. “Ever.”
Garrett comes to stand beside me, and I tense.
“Awww Jake, baby, come on. It wasn’t that bad.” He reaches out to touch me, and I smack his hand away.
“Don’t touch me,” I bite.
Garrett grasps my neck. He pulls on it, forcing my face close to his.
“What’s wrong? Did the little cockslut get cold feet over being caught?”
I push him off me and he stumbles.
“Fuck off, Garrett,” I warn.
“Or what? You think you have the upperhand here, sweetheart? News flash: you don’t. You think you’re so much better than me. But you’re not.”
“I am better. Than you,” I say, but the shakiness in my voice does not help my case one bit.