Zak
ZAK
I swear I’ve never seen my mom so happy. The huge smile on her face is literally the only reason I’m doing this. Winter fucking Mingle. Even the name is lame as hell.
“ary Aldridge, you look so handsome!” She pats down the lapels of my tux before reaching up and cupping my face. “I’m so happy you agreed to come.”
“Anything for my favorite mom.” She rolls her eyes and I grin. “You look gorgeous, too, by the way.”
Gripping the skirts of her flowing red dress, she does a little spin in the lobby of the hotel we’re staying at, and I laugh. I definitely take after her. She lives life loud and unapologetically, whereas Dad is quiet and reserved. They’re chalk and cheese, but they somehow make loving each other look effortless.
“Come on,” she says, linking her arm through mine and pulling me toward the entrance. “We don’t want to be late.”
I feel sick. It’s been so hard not to text Jaime, but I’ve forced myself not to. As much as I’m not giving up, I also have to leave the ball in her court for a while. I climbed a damn house for her. It’s her turn. Although, if she doesn’t text me, I’m not sure what my next play will be.
Every five minutes I change my mind on whether I want Jaime to be there tonight. If she’s not, it’ll be a hell of a lot less awkward. If she is, I get to see her and maybe even dance with her. Nope. I hope she’s not there. It’s too much pressure. Fuck. I’ll probably meet her parents, though.
“Are you okay?” Mom asks as the driver PEO sent opens the door for us.
I hadn’t even noticed the car arrive. “Yeah. Sorry. I just spaced.”
Even though she smiles, I can tell she doesn’t buy it, but I’m not going to explain. I’m aware that when I voice the situation aloud, it sounds ridiculous.
“So,” I say, forcing a grin. “Is this a Cinderella type deal? Do we have to be back by midnight? Or are you going to give me a glimpse of your college rave days?”
Mom throws back her head and laughs, her diamanté earrings brushing her shoulders. “College rave days? Oh, honey. No. What kind of party do you think this is going to be? It’s going to be a bunch of old guys drinking champagne with someone playing piano. If we’re not home before midnight, I’ll be shocked.”
Shaking my head, I watch the Miami skyline twinkling in the distance over the water. When I found out Jaime’s family lived on Fisher Island, I wasn’t surprised. Even still, I’m a little blown away by the sprawling mansions. Our own brownstone in Chicago is impressive, but it might as well be an apartment in Ford Heights compared to these.
When we join a line of similar black town cars, my eyebrows shoot up. “What? We’re here already? We could have walked.”
“In these heels?” Mom scoffs. “I don’t think so, baby.”
We wait patiently as cars deposit the guests out front, and a fresh wave of nerves washes over me when I see people taking photos like it’s the goddamn Oscars.
Mom reaches over and squeezes my hand. I think for a second, she’s reassuring me, but one look at her face tells me she’s nervous as hell.
“Relax, Mom,” I say quietly, squeezing back. “You look stunning and it’s going to be a great night.”
She nods, giving me a tight smile, and I decide right there and then, I’m going to put all my own personal bullshit aside, and make sure tonight is the best night of her life.
My heart thunders as the driver opens the door and I get out, extending a hand to my mom. She’s a natural, smiling at the cameras and posing on my arm. I’d be worried about people thinking I’m her date if I didn’t look so much like her.
The Smith mansion is spectacular, with a Christmas tree out front the size of the one at Rockefeller, and a million twinkle lights coating every palm tree in a way that should be tacky, but just kind of looks magical.
“Wow,” Mom whispers as we make our way up the steps to the front doors.
I nod, trying not to gawp at the glass light fixtures dripping from the ceilings, the fifteen-foot windows and the sweeping staircases. There really are different levels of rich. My family is rich, but this is . . . something else entirely.
There are another two Christmas trees in the entrance hall, enormous blue, silver, and white baubles hanging at varying lengths throughout the space. I wonder if there’s a personal one somewhere with presents underneath it. How many trees does one family need?
“Good evening, Mrs. Aldridge, Mr. Aldridge.”
My head snaps to the side to find a waiter standing there with a tray of champagne.
“Thank you,” we both mumble, taking a glass each.
As he moves away, I lean down to my mom. “How the hell does he know our names?”
She shakes her head and takes a sip of champagne. “I was wondering the same thing. Maybe there’s a book with photos and they make the staff memorize them. Maybe there’s a quiz.”
I cough to hide my laugh and we make our way along with the mingling crowd into a large room filled with tables. A quick count tells me there are eight tables, each with six places.
“It’s smaller than I thought,” I say.
“Are you joking right now?” Mom’s eyebrows arch. “There’s nothing small around here.”
I shake my head. “No. I mean, there are only forty-eight people invited. I was kind of expecting hundreds.”
“That’s what makes it exclusive,” she says, pulling me over to the seating chart discretely displayed at the entrance.
It hits me then, what an important thing this is for Mom. She really has been personally selected. A wave of pride washes over me and I smile down at her as she finds us on the list.
“We’re sitting next to the owner of a tech company and his husband, and sisters that own a textile export company,” she says, glancing around the room. “I’m so intimidated right now.”
“You belong here just as much as anyone,” I reassure her. “I’m really impressed, Mom.”
She smiles and gently pushes my chest. “Oh, hush.”
Mom called it with the piano and lots of old guys. The small crowd is pretty mixed, but I’m definitely the youngest here by a good decade. Also, possibly the tallest. I’m used to being the giant in the room though, just as I’m used to the basketball jokes.
“Are you gonna be okay if I go find a restroom?” I ask, placing my already empty glass down on a passing waiter’s tray.
“Sure. Just don’t get lost.”
I laugh, but it’s a real possibility. This place is freaking huge.
So far, I haven’t seen any of the Smiths. I know what her parents look like, thanks to Google, and they’re not here. I’m assuming they’re going to make some sort of grand entrance once all the guests have arrived. It must not be far off, because the room is already pretty full.
I don’t make it far before a man in a black suit stops me.
“Can I help you, sir?”
“Just looking for a restroom,” I reply noting the subtle earpiece. I suppose this many millionaires in one place requires private security.
“Just down that hallway, sir,” he says, pointing me in the opposite direction.
I thank him and head that way, taking in the incredible house. Is this where Jaime grew up? I did my research but only surface stuff. I don’t know how long they’ve lived here. The thought of her childhood bedroom being here somewhere has me staring up at the double staircase curiously. Is there a living room somewhere with framed pictures of her from school? Her high school graduation? There’s certainly nothing personal out here.
The restroom is empty, and I take a second to check my hair and adjust my bowtie after taking care of business. I made the decision to cut my hair before tonight, taking it back down to the shorter length it was last year.
Taking a deep breath, I head back out, mentally preparing myself for a couple of hours of engaging in conversation about things I really have no interest in, with people I’ll probably never see again.
I’m relieved to find that the guests are still milling around when I reach the dining room, and I spot my mom right away chatting with a small group. When I see who’s in the group, however, my stomach drops to my polished black shoes.
Fuck.
Mason Smith laughs at something Mom says and his wife reaches out and puts her hand on Mom’s arm as though they’re long-lost friends. But it’s not them that has my heart racing. Standing beside them is Jaime, looking beyond stunning in a floor-length silver dress. It shimmers and sparkles with a pattern made of pearls and crystals, her hair pinned back with matching clips. She looks like a goddess.
For a second, I consider turning and walking in the other direction, but there’s no way I can abandon my mom. I just have to suck it up. Swallowing hard, I will my feet to move forward until I reach them.
Mom’s eyes light up as she spots me, reaching immediately for my arm. I can’t look at Jaime, so I focus on Mason instead.
“This is my son, ,” Mom says. “, this is Mason Smith.”
I extend my hand, shaking his firmly. “A pleasure, Mr. Smith. Your home is stunning.”
“Thank you,” he says, his blue eyes crinkling. “Nice to meet you, . This is my wife, Melanie.”
I take her proffered hand with a smile. “A pleasure to meet you.”
His next words are barely audible over the thundering of my heart.
“And this is my daughter, Jaime.”
I finally allow myself to look at her, completely unsurprised by the barely concealed horror on her beautiful face.
But Mason isn’t finished as he gestures to the man beside her.
“And her fiancé, Louis Chevalier.”
And just like that, five words cleave my world to pieces.