24. Ally
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
ALLY
I’m living in delusion and it’s the happiest I’ve ever been.
I don’t let myself dwell on how this is for only one day. I’m Dan’s and he’s mine, and I’ve never experienced this level of emotional intimacy with another person, not even with Dan, until now. He’s let me be with him on his birthday when he could have turned me away. There was a promise involved, but he could have broken it.
I like that I’m the one who can comfort him on this difficult day, with my words as well as my body. I loved taking him in my mouth and locking eyes with him as I sucked his cock; the way his teeth clenched and the sharp hisses that left his lips, like he was almost in pain; the way he tasted when he came in my mouth and I swallowed him down; the kisses that followed. I love how he stripped my clothes off and took me into the shower, then pressed me against the wet tiled wall and slid his fingers back inside me.
The lunch reservations I made for us went unattended. The movie tickets I pre-ordered were wasted. We haven’t left Dan’s apartment all day. My lips are bruised from all of Dan’s kisses and the make out sessions on his couch. I’m tender between my legs from the number of times Dan insisted on fucking me with his hand.
And I have no complaints.
At five p.m., I convince him to leave the apartment with me for an early dinner since we skipped all meals throughout the day. We do our best to ignore paparazzi when dining at a boutique French restaurant. Afterward, we attend another showing of the movie we missed, where we can be away from prying eyes.
In the dark theater, with no eyes on us, he pulls my legs across his lap and holds me in his arms. My head rests on his shoulder as we watch the movie. For once, Dan and I are able to be affectionate with each other in public, and it feels so perfect. Everything is a dream, until the movie ends, and I realize Dan is acting quieter than usual.
“You okay?” I ask as we return to the street, standing beneath the marquee lights of the theater’s entrance.
“Yeah. Just… the movie was the first time I’ve stopped all day. My mind started drifting to bad places.”
“Maybe a movie wasn’t the best idea.” I check the time on my phone. It’s only eight p.m. We could return to Dan’s apartment, but I don’t want to do that when he’s feeling off. One of my backup plans for the day comes to mind. “Will you take me to The Scarlet Mirage?”
His lips twitch with surprise, then rise into a teasing grin. “You aren’t scared of tarnishing your reputation?”
“If this speakeasy is so secretive, shouldn’t my reputation be safe?”
“Fair point. But I’m curious as to why you want to go there.”
“It’s Felix’s baby and you’re always hanging out there. I want to see what all the fuss is about. Plus, I was thinking I could have another ‘first’ with you and order a cocktail.”
Amusement fills Dan’s eyes. “Jesus fuck. How can you be twenty-one in a month and never have tried a cocktail?”
“Shut up.” I push his arm, laughing.
“Okay, I’ll take you to The Scarlet Mirage.”
Midtown Manhattan. Felix runs a sophisticated cocktail lounge, modern in interior and with New Age Electronic music. We don’t linger in the lounge area. Dan leads me to a busy corridor filled with multiple doors leading to restrooms and staff quarters. He stops at an unmarked door, where a man dressed in a black and red striped suit stands guard. The man lets us enter after sharing a knowing glance with Dan.
Inside, we’re met with a powder room. Dan steps up to a floor-to-ceiling mirror gilded with old-world embellishments that clash with the modern style of the venue. He slips his hand behind the frame. I’m about to ask what he’s doing, but my question is answered when the mirror unlatches from the wall, swinging open as a doorway to someplace dark.
“Impressive.”
“Wait till you see what’s downstairs,” he says. “Ladies first.”
As soon as I step through the hidden door, darkness engulfs me, all but for the red neon signs on either side of the wall, illuminating a narrow staircase leading to the basement. The distant echo of smooth jazz travels up the staircase, along with a hum of voices.
I pause for a moment at the top of the stairs, my heart thumping. The dull red glow of the neon lights makes it look like sin down there. Entering this speakeasy is the first time I’ll have purposefully done something illegal, and while I have confidence my presence will remain unknown, being here is still a little nerve-wracking.
But I can’t deny the allure of The Scarlet Mirage. A spark of excitement burns in my chest, the idea of doing something wrong, and I follow that lure, slowly descending each step.
As I make my way down, the music grows louder. The hum of voices becomes more distinct, mingling with laughter and the clinking of glasses. The air is filled with the scent of cigar smoke and liquor.
Finally, I reach the basement and turn the corner, finding myself standing at the entrance of a hidden paradise, transported back in time to the Roaring Twenties.
Everything captures the essence of the era, from the jazz band on stage to the Art Deco furniture and paintings. Even the people are dressed like they’re from the Prohibition era, the gentlemen in three-piece suits and the ladies in sparkly flapper dresses. I’m out of place in my pink sun dress. The sexy red dress I wore at Dan’s apartment would be more appropriate, but he made it clear that dress is for his eyes only.
“Incredible, huh?” Dan must see the amazement on my face.
“Now I understand why Felix makes a fortune off this place. It’s amazing.”
“Should we order that first drink of yours?”
I nod, and we make our way to the bar, through the many chairs and tables and people lounging on velvet couches. Dan passes me a drinks menu. I skim through it, seeing a list of cocktails with names I’ve never heard of. Chicago Fizz, Gin Rickey, Southside, Hanky Panky, and many more, all in the theme of the 1920s, no doubt.
“I’ll get a whiskey on ice,” Dan orders from the bartender. “Sis, what would you like?”
My gaze flicks to Dan’s, hearing the smug tone in the way he calls me his sister. The two of us have a silent conversation, Dan fucking me with his eyes, knowing I like how wrong the name sounds coming from his lips. I’m sure that’s why he said it.
“I don’t know what any of these drinks are. Will you order me something that tastes nice?”
He nods at the bartender. “And a Bee’s Knees.”
“Cute name. What’s it taste like?”
Dan leans against the bar, grinning at me while the bartender mixes our drinks. “It’s sweet, with honey, like you. You’ll like it.”
“Baby sis.” I hear Felix’s name for me cutting through the buzz of voices and a saxophonist improvising on stage. The name is endearing when Felix says it and holds none of the filth present in Dan’s voice when referring to us as siblings. “Never thought I’d see you here.”
Felix steps up to me, fitting right into the atmosphere with a pinstriped suit. He’d be intimidating, if I didn’t know him better, looking like a 1920s gangster. Tattoos poke above his collar and his blond hair is smoothed back. His eyes shift to my left, noticing Dan for the first time, and his forehead creases with surprise.
“How on earth did you get Dan out of his apartment today? It’s good to see you, bro.” He pats Dan on the forearm and nods his head to the side, gesturing to a row of booths along the back wall. “You’re just in time for a little brotherly bonding. Killian and Tyler are here too. You two should join us. ”
Surprise gets the better of me, and I blurt out a question I probably shouldn’t. “You’re here with Tyler?” Felix raises an eyebrow at the question, and I realize it was perhaps a little rude of me. “Sorry, I just thought you two didn’t?—”
“On a day like today, Tyler and I can put aside our differences.”
I still don’t understand what the issue is between Felix and Tyler. Before I can ask anything, Dan speaks, not sounding thrilled. “I guess we can sit for a bit.”
Our drinks are placed on the bar and Dan passes my cocktail to me. My drink is a tone of soft yellow, served in a stemmed coupe glass, broad and shallow, and is absolute decadence. The cocktail touches my lips, a delicious balance between sweet and citrus.
Dan watches me, pleased by my reaction, and places a hand on my upper back, guiding us through the crowd and to a booth where the three brothers sit with playing cards and poker chips scattered across the table.
Killian and Tyler look as shocked as Felix was to see Dan, but they brush off their surprise and greet us casually.
“We’re about to start a game. You two want in?” Tyler asks us, lighting the end of a cigar.
“No. We’re not staying long.” Dan nods for me to take a seat. I slide into the booth and he follows, the two of us alone on one side.
With the seating a little cramped, my thigh presses against Dan’s, and I hold back a gasp when feeling his hot palm on the inside of my thigh, hidden from view beneath the table. The tiniest smirk curls his lips, and he raises his glass to disguise it.
The poker game begins with each brother placing a tower of poker chips in the center of the table. “What have you two been up to today?” Killian asks, and I almost choke on my drink.
“Dinner. Movies. Not much,” Dan answers.
“You receive the same copy and paste text from Dad as we all did this morning?”
“He knows not to message me today.”
“What did it say?” I ask, not wanting to overstep my boundaries, but also feeling bad for Josh.
Killian rolls his eyes, drawling an answer. “The same old crap. I’m proud of your many accomplishments. Your mother is looking down on you and would be proud. ”
Dan groans.
“Maybe we should change the subject,” I say, wanting to keep the conversation positive.
“It’s fine, Ally.”
“Josh is proud of you. All of you,” I offer. I know none of them want to hear it, but I want them to know Josh is genuine. “He loves you all. He told me so when I mentioned spending Dan’s birthday with him.”
Tyler leans back, sucking on his cigar and puffing smoke hoops into the air. “It’s generic bullshit, Ally. Even if he was being sincere, it’s too late. It doesn’t make up for the years of abandonment while we grew up.”
The situation is complicated, and I understand their side too. I only wish I knew how to mend things between them all. “I told Josh I wouldn’t get involved, and I won’t. But he knows he messed up. I don’t think he knows how to fix it. I won’t say anything else.”
“As I said, the damage is done,” Tyler replies. “We only hang around because of you and Amabella.”
It’s a nice sentiment, that my mother and I have found such a good family. But it makes me sad for Josh.
The boys move on to the next stage of their game. As another round of betting takes place, I sip my drink, my gaze wandering out of the booth, admiring a lady wearing a dress of fringe tassels, the woman beside her with a fur wrap and?—
A man sitting in an armchair, glaring at Dan.
“Why is that man looking at you like that?” I ask.
All four brothers peer out of the booth to see who I’m talking about. The man is older, perhaps thirty. Tall and lanky and with a thick, dark, beard.
Felix laughs. “That’s Phillip Jones. He’s a regular here. The C.E.O. of a software company. He played poker with Dan earlier in the week and lost a million dollars.”
“That rumor is true?” I gasp.
Dan shrugs, like it’s no big deal.
Felix laughs again, twirling a poker chip between his fingers. “Man, Jones is pissed off. How did Dad handle the rumor?”
“I don’t know,” Dan says. “I’ve got a bunch of missed calls from him. Don’t plan on returning them.”
Killian deals a card from the deck, and while he, Felix, and Tyler contemplate their next move, I speak quietly with Dan. “What do you plan to do with all this money you win?”
“Spend it on you,” he answers low enough for only me to hear, sliding his palm a little higher up my thigh.
My breath catches. I tell myself to concentrate. “Seriously. You have a few luxuries in life. A nice car. Expensive suits. But it’s not like you’re living an extravagant lifestyle, buying yachts and private jets.”
“I like the thrill of the game and the strategy involved. Money is a nice extra.”
“So, would it kill you to donate some of it? The money could go to a really good cause. You could help people who are in dangerous living conditions like me and my mom used to be. There are loads of charities. Plus, it would get Mom and Josh off your back about the bad image your poker games bring to Forever Families.”
Dan’s jaw tenses with displeasure.
“What? I’m only saying how I feel,” I tell him.
“It’s not that. I hate picturing what your life with that bastard used to be like. And perhaps you’re right. When you pitch the donation idea like that, it does sound appealing.”
The music on stage fades to an end. “Ladies and gentleman,” a man speaks into the microphone with a saxophone strapped around his neck. “For this next song, we’re opening up the dance floor for a little swing dancing.”
Upbeat music resumes and people make their way to in front of the stage.
I bring my cocktail to my lips, gulping down the last of the sweet alcohol, feeling a pleasant dizziness and in the mood for some fun. “You want to dance?”
Dan laughs. “Neither of us know how to swing dance.”
“So? It will be fun.”
He shakes his head, still laughing. “Fine. Let’s go.”
Dan slides out of the booth, taking my hand and helping me to my feet.
“Bro,” Felix says before we walk off, and from the serious look in his eyes and the sincerity of his voice, I know he has something important to say. “I won’t push it, but Mom would be proud, you know.” Dan’s throat strains as he holds his brother’s gaze. “I have few memories of her, but I remember her pregnant with you, and she was so happy.”
Killian finishes his drink and adds on, “I wish you wouldn’t feel so guilty about what happened. None of us really remember her. Think of it this way—shit happens, but now Dad is happily in love with Amabella and we have Ally.”
Dan nods, pensive about Killian’s words. I’m not sure swing dancing is the best idea anymore. Before I can tell Dan it’s fine if he just wants to leave, someone bumps into me. I’m knocked forward, only managing to stay upright due to Dan steadying me.
“Oh, pardon me,” a man says. I look up, finding the man who was glaring at Dan moments ago. Phillip Jones, Felix called him. He smiles at me, yet there’s something sly within his eyes that leaves me unsettled. The guy also reeks of liquor, and I question whether he’s drunk. “Such a pretty little girlfriend you have here, Blackwood.”
“Watch the way you speak about her,” Dan warns.
“What, I can’t compliment your girl?”
Muffled laughter comes from the brothers in the booth, not realizing how perceptive this Phillip guy is.
“Jones, is there something you want?” Dan asks, bored by their interaction. “Or are you still licking your wounds over the one mill you lost fair and square?”
“Yeah, there is something I want. You have my money. I think it’s only fair I take away something precious from you.”
Phillip lunges forward with eyes set on me, and before I can react, there’s a flash of silver slicing through the air, heading my way. Dan pushes me behind himself. My other three brothers launch out of the booth and tackle Phillip, but they’re not fast enough.
I look down at the sharp, hot pain in my left arm, finding a stream of blood trailing down to my wrist.
“Fuck, Ally.” Dan grabs my injured arm, out of his mind with panic.
“I’m okay. The cut isn’t that bad.” And it isn’t. The fright is worse than anything.
He keeps swearing and grabs a bunch of napkins from a nearby table, pressing them to the wound on my forearm. All around us, people are gasping and watching Phillip struggle on the floor. The band has stopped playing. No one is dancing.
“Go, Dan,” Felix orders. “Get Ally out of here and take care of her. We’ll handle Jones.”
Dan takes me by the waist, shielding me with his body as he pushes through the crowd. “Shit. I’m so sorry, Ally. How deep is the cut?”
“Don’t apologize. Everything is fine.”
“Everything is not fine. You nearly got stabbed. If I hadn’t pulled you out of the way in time—” He cuts himself off with a groan and a whole lot of self-hatred. “None of this would have happened if it weren’t for me.”