17. April 12, 2023
Cherry
She watched him dry-pop two pills from a container, which he then pocketed before stepping back through the curtains blowing in the breeze through the open French doors.
He wasn’t paying any attention to her because he was struggling to get his cufflink affixed, so he didn’t witness her pained reaction to his taking the drugs.
While the fact that he was actively using during a project was disconcerting, especially since his teammates always swore he detoxed in those situations, she couldn’t help but also notice that in all the years they’d worked together, she’d never seen him like this.
He was gorgeous in surfer mode. He was panty-destroying in BAMF mode. He was to die for in a tuxedo.
“The devil himself couldn’t be more beautiful,” she whispered.
His head popped up at the sound of her voice, and it looked like he was going to say something, but then he stopped.
She felt his eyes travel from her hair to her toes.
Her breathing felt completely restricted in the red halter dress.
The bodice of the dress fit so tightly she didn’t need a bra because the cups covering her breasts perfectly molded to them, keeping them high and tight.
A plunging neckline to the undersides allowed them to swell slightly along the sides.
The fitted waist dropped to a long skirt, with slits from floor to just below her hips.
She’d never felt more exposed in her life than she did right now, and all because of the hunger in his eyes.
“I thought redheads couldn’t wear red.”
Bristling, she crossed over to the vanity table and sat down to check her hair and makeup. “I can wear whatever color I want. You don’t have to like it.” Guess she’d mistaken the look. How dare he? He couldn’t just lie and tell her she looked beautiful?
He placed his hands on her shoulders, drawing them down her arms until he bent close to her ear. “So quick to anger.” He kissed her cheek lightly. “I meant, people always say it’s not a suitable color for women with red hair. They obviously have never seen you in the color.”
“Sorry.” To cover up her embarrassment at misunderstanding his words, she grabbed her lip pencil and fixed what didn’t need fixing. If she didn’t do something with her hands, she was liable to grab his lapels, smash her mouth against his, and say to hell with the party.
He chuckled. “I see that look in your eye,” he teased.
She peered at his reflection in the glass. “It’s not too revealing?”
“Okay. We can ignore my comment and pretend that’s what I was talking about.” He drew the back of his finger across her shoulder and down her arm. “Yes, it’s too revealing. Every man in the room is going to be salivating. Particularly your uncle, which pisses me off. Stand up.”
Was something wrong? A rip? A wrinkle? She stood up from the bench and walked around it, twisting around to see the back, looking down the front, and even checking her cleavage.
A smirk playing about his lips, he turned her so that her back was to his front. She felt his hands gather her hair and release the clips that were holding it swept up to the sides.
She protested.
“Shh, fireball. Trust me.”
He tossed the clips onto the vanity table and then gently fanned the waves of her hair along the back of her shoulders.
Satisfied with his work, he ran his hands down her sides and smoothed the dress over her hips, returning them to span her waist. He exhaled a ragged breath and followed it up with, “Jesus Christ, you’re absolutely stunning. ”
Her heart pounded, and it felt like her blood raced through her system. It was difficult to breathe. Finally, she whispered, “Thank you. It’s nice to hear.”
“You always look beautiful, Cherry.”
She took a step away from him and turned. “Ready to go into the melee?”
“Can’t wait.” The sarcasm dripping from the response was impossible to miss.
Desperate to touch him, she gave his bow tie an unneeded straightening and then patted him on the chest with a smile. “Just be your usual charming self, and it’ll be fine.”
“Got it. ‘Arsehole mode.’ Let’s get this over with.”
He crossed to the door and opened it, allowing her to pass through ahead of him.
As they walked down the hall, she felt the warmth of his hand on her back.
When they reached the top of the stairs, she stopped for a moment to make sure she had her feet properly under her.
Marble floors were sometimes difficult to navigate in four-inch heels, and when she started down the stairs, he slipped his arm around her waist as if to help steady her.
He was always doing things like that for her.
They turned left at the bottom of the stairs and entered the great room through the double doors, where people gathered, holding drinks. His hand once again on her back, he guided her to the bartenders who were set up along the far wall .
“Mai tai for the lady, and if you have Hibiki, I’ll have that. Neat. Otherwise, whatever your best option is.”
“How did you know what to order for me?”
“I pay attention. Wine gives you a headache, hence why you stayed at Flame’s the other night instead of coming back to your apartment.
And normally, you do tequila shots with Kubrick, but I figured you wouldn’t want to be slamming those back at this sort of event, and this is really the only other cocktail you drink. ”
“And what’s Hibiki?” Her mouth slowed down to pronounce the word.
“Japanese whiskey.”
The bartender placed his glass in front of him, and Demon slid a large bill across the bar, which the bartender swept up and put in his pocket. Demon moved the glass slightly in her direction. “Try it.”
Cherry took a small sip of the whiskey, cocking her head as she considered it. “It’s fruity. Did you find it on a surfing trip?”
“Yes. Long time ago.”
“Obviously, excellent memories.”
He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Actually, no. Trip was a disaster. Only thing good was the whiskey.”
Drinks in hand, they turned away from the bar and stepped out into the party, mingling with a variety of guests. They’d just begun talking to the manager of the plantation when, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Zion approaching.
Taking the hand that did not hold her drink, he complimented her. “Esme, you are a rose among thorns this evening.” He brought the hand to his mouth and laid a kiss on her knuckles.
“That’s very kind of you, Zion.”
She could feel the tension bristling through Demon.
He really did not like Zion, which she had to admit confirmed her own impressions that something was off with the man and his attention to her.
While his dislike could easily just be jealousy, she was certain the rest of the deadmen would feel much the same way .
The host gave a head bow, then stood straight. “Are you enjoying the party so far?”
“We literally just arrived and grabbed a drink, but I’m sure it will be lovely.” She smiled and hoped it looked natural. It didn’t feel like it did.
“Since you’ve already become acquainted with Calvin Deschamps, the man who keeps my little hobby venture successful, I’d also like to introduce you to one of my military contract liaisons.
” Gesturing behind him and to the left, Zion introduced a second man in an army dress uniform with several pins and badges.
Cherry recognized some of them. “This is General Elliott Howard, one of the higher-ranking officials in the United States Army. General, this is Esme Bosworth, whom I believe you met, although she would have been in her much younger years.”
She flashed a quick look at Zion, then turned her attention to the general, offering him a smile and her hand. “Esme McCarthy, now. I must have been very young, General Howard. I apologize for not recognizing you.”
He shook her hand, his grip firm, his gaze intense. “It was over thirty years ago, my dear, back when you were still wearing pigtails and at your mother’s funeral. My condolences, once again. She was a lovely woman. You look very much like her.” His words were polite, but the inflection was cold.
“Yes, it’s amazing how many of her features I carry.” She turned slightly, gesturing toward Demon. “This is my husband, Ciarán McCarthy.”
The two men shook hands, greeting each other with the usual inane pleasantries of new introductions.
“We’re in St. Lucia on our honeymoon and decided to spend a few days visiting my uncle, whom I haven’t seen in quite a few years,” Cherry explained.
“Indeed, far too many,” Zion emphasized.
“However, she’s here now, and I’m thrilled, no matter the reason for the visit.
” The fake smile was once again spread across his face.
“Ciarán, here, was asking me about my ethical take on working with so many of the world’s militaries.
I assured him that there were no conflicts, given our peaceful products. ”
Howard grunted, and his mouth formed a disdainful smirk. “A common concern. Many people talk about things they know nothing about because they don’t do their homework.”
“I don’t think it takes an educated person, necessarily, to see the ethical conundrum itself,” Demon replied.
“I understand the need for a military, and I also understand that it takes equipment to support that military. My concern is just indiscriminately supporting multiple militaries.” He smiled his own fake smile.
“I can imagine that if you entered conflict with another nation Zion supported with his manufacturing, that might be awkward.”
“Yes, well, fortunately, we’ve not entered that situation.”