3. Carter
CHAPTER 3
CARTER
T wo days later, Brian approached me with his plans for the party.
I reached to take them from him, excitement fizzing through my veins. “I can’t believe you did this so fast.”
“People tend to make way for you when you’re a former lawyer.” Brian flashed a grin and flopped down in a chair on the other side of my big black desk. “Take a look through and tell me what you think.”
The first section of the paper made note that the party would take place in a warehouse I owned on one of the island’s beaches, which I often used to throw artist’s functions and host gallery viewings. The warehouse had plenty of space in it for partygoers to come and relax. There would be security amongst the crowds, dressed up to blend in, who would enforce peace and prevent anyone from wandering off into areas where they weren’t supposed to. Since I often used the warehouse for other similar things, there were kitchens for caterers to work in, and bathrooms for the guests.
Brian had already selected a catering service, pending my approval, and had chosen a cleaning company to tend to litter during the party and tidy up afterward.
“We haven’t used this company before,” I noted, peering at him over the top of the papers.
He nodded. “I know. But we normally don’t extend these functions of yours to the waterfront. This company has cleaned beaches before. Stellar ratings in all regards. The only bad review is from a man who is either homeless or was previously homeless, who was annoyed the cleaners kept tossing out his bottles.”
“I hadn’t considered how using the beach would change things.”
“That would be why you hired me.” Brian leaned back, his arms folded behind his head.
Further on in the plant, he detailed how he would hire lifeguards to make sure nothing tragic occurred in the water.
Everything else, from music to entertainment, was included in the plans. Most of it was rough, mere suggestions awaiting my approval. Brian would make quick work of getting it all solidified and sorted out.
I handed the sheath of papers back to Brian. “Everything seems perfect to me. I just have one question.”
“Yes?” Brian pulled a pen off his shirt pocket and clicked it. He hovered the nib of the pen over the paper, preparing to write down notes on what I had to say. His efficiency impressed me, as it always did, making me glad once more that we worked together—that he worked for me was only how things looked on paper.
“How are we going to do the invitations?”
“I thought about that,” Brian told me, tapping his pen on my desk. “I think we started this too late to do any sort of giveaway. My solution is to throw aside the idea of proper invitations altogether. Let anyone in the public come if they want to.”
“Are you serious?” I gaped at him. “Anyone and everyone in the whole freaking city?”
“I know.” Brian grimaced. “It sounds like a lot at first. But hear me out. The more people come, the better chances you have of blending in and being just another guy. And so many people will already have other obligations, other parties to go to. The people you’re going to get will be the really curious ones, the ones who think they absolutely have a shot, who would rather try and spend time with you. And leaving the invitations open to the whole public means that someone can’t come along and try to rig the giveaway in their favor. And we won’t have to deal with fake copies.”
I rubbed my fingers through my beard. “When you put it like that, it almost makes sense.”
He smiled. “Does that mean you approve?”
“I can hardly believe it, but yes. That’s the plan we’re going with. What exactly are you going to be putting on the flyers?”
Brian flipped one of the papers over and started scribbling on the back. “We’ll have ‘Halloween Party’ up at the very top. And then ‘All Invited’ below that, in a bit of a smaller font. Details below that. Something like ‘Billionaire Carter Bryant will be hosting an open-to-the-public Halloween party from such-and-such time in the hopes of meeting his future wife.’ And then we’ll provide links to some social media pages we’re going to be setting up. We can also put ads in the paper if you like.”
I nodded. “Send it off to a copywriter and have them clean that line up. And mention the anonymity.”
“What if we don’t?”
“Huh?” I was confused.
“If we don’t mention you’re in disguise, no one will be trying to figure out if you’re this guy, or that guy over there by the punch bowl.” Brian’s eyes gleamed. “People who don’t see you will just assume the party is so big they haven’t run into you. Others will lie and claim they did see you and meet you. It’ll create this whole big confusing mess that you can solve later on, if and when you find the girl you’re looking for. It’ll be great.”
A slow grin formed on my lips. “Brian, you’re a mad genius. I love it. Make it happen.”
“Will do. Honestly, I’m looking forward to it, too.” Brian tucked his pen away and straightened his papers.
“Of course you are.”
“What I mean is, maybe I’ll meet someone there, too. I figure to hedge my bets, I’ll flaunt the goods.”
“Okay,” I said, holding up my hand. “You have to wear something to the party. Being naked is not a costume.”
He laughed. “You’re no fun. But what I meant was, I’ll be going as Spider-Man.”
Against my will, I was forced to picture Brian in a skin-tight superhero suit. I shuddered and grimaced at him, feeling like I couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “Why Spider-Man?”
“Why not Spider-Man?”
I leaned back in my chair. “There are so many superheroes out there who wear tight, revealing costumes, and you’re going to pick the one who’s a teenage boy?”
Brian scrunched his nose and made a face. “Okay, when you put it like that, it’s awful. But how many superheroes actually have a stable girlfriend who knows what they’re up to and supports them?”
“I should have known that you would want a Mary Jane kind of girl. One who’s so obsessed they won’t see all your flaws.”
“Whether you approve or not, that’s who I’ll be going as. The benefits are that I’ll have a mask, so no one will know who I am, and I’ll have that whole movie kiss thing making me more appealing. Who doesn’t want to be kissed by Spider-Man?”
I lifted my hand.
“Besides you, who doesn’t want to be kissed by Spider-Man?”
I opened my mouth to give some answers, to name the few Spider-Man villains I knew. Brian cut me off with a scowl and a hurried question. “Who will you be going as? There’s not much time left to get a costume and all the good ones will be sold out.”
I had put a lot of thought into it as soon as we decided to make the idea of the Halloween party a reality and really, there had been only one logical choice. “I will be a prince.”
“You’re going to go as yourself? That’s kind of boring.”
I frowned at him and he held up his hands, though the grin on his face kept him from looking very apologetic. “It’ll be since I’m trying to find my princess.”
“Gag. How can you make fun of my Spider-Man idea when yours is even worse?”
“I already have the outfit planned. It won’t be a costume so much as just something I’ll be putting together.”
Brian pretended to do some math in the air, wiggling his finger around. “That’s a costume.”
I sighed at him. “You know what I mean.” Despite myself, I could feel I was beginning to get a little annoyed. This was his idea and I wanted him to know how much I appreciated it and what I was going to do to make it be successful.
As best friends are liable to do, Brian must have figured out what was bothering me. “Tell me more,” he urged, backing off a bit.
I smiled at him. “I’m going for generic fairytale prince.”
“A bit old for a prince, but you have so much money you might as well be one already, so I suppose it’s an apt choice. Just one thing. How will you hide your identity?”
I had been prepared to answer that question. I pulled open my desk drawer and produced a carnival mask, the sort of decorative mask that usually concealed only the upper part of the face. Mine had three decorative prongs on the upper side, like the thick points of a crown, covered in decorative glitter-gold and red swirls.
Brian took the mask and inspected it, turning it over and over in his hands. He glanced up with a grin. “This is brilliant. Way better than a typical mask, like what I was expecting.”
I took the mask back and put it back in the drawer. “I couldn’t be more excited.” An understatement, despite the meaning of what I’d said. It wasn’t a generic placeholder statement. I really felt so excited right then that I didn’t know how there could be room for anything else inside me. Every breath fizzed with anticipation.
Brian must have seen how serious I was. He chuckled and pushed back in his chair, getting to his feet. “Well, my friend, there won’t be a party at all unless I go and get all of this sorted. I should have a final flyer to send to you for your approval by the end of the day.”
All of this was so much more real now that we had had a second discussion on it, making it more than a simple idea. “That would be great. Honestly, though, send it to me whenever it’s done, no matter the time. I don’t care if it’s midnight.”
“You really are excited.” Brian gave a little bow. “Your wish is my command.”
I joked, “It had better be. What do you think I’m paying you for?”
Brian took his papers and went to the office door. He turned back, his usually jovial expression smoothing into a seriousness the sort of which he hadn’t even displayed in his lawyer days.
“What is it?” I asked.
“I really hope you get what you’re looking for from this,” he said softly.
“Me, too.”
He kept looking at me for a bit and then he left, shutting the door behind him.
When he had gone, I opened the drawer again and withdrew the carnival mask. I ran my thumb over the gold swirls, picking up a trace of glitter. I rubbed my fingers together, spreading the shimmery flecks.
By November 1 st , I might have met the love of my life.
I stared into the blank eyeholes of the mask, as if I would find answers there. I wondered if I would know her on sight, when I saw her, or if I would meet several woman who caught my interest, whose personalities I would need to explore through further dates. What sort of costume would she be wearing? I’d need to be careful not to have a subconscious preference for women not wearing face-covering costumes; behind that mask, underneath that hood, could be my future wife.
What would she be like? I was looking for someone passionate and understanding, with a spark and yet a calmness, but I couldn’t hold myself to those strict categories.
Holding the mask in my hands, I decided to stop wondering so much and just let it happen.