Eight
Iwas hiding out on the balcony with the others. “What? What did I say?”
Aubrey Jenner had her hand over her face because wine had come out of her nose when she laughed.
Dane had his head back, and he was counting so he would not crack a smile, even as he held on to the steel railing.
Rick Jenner was standing beside his wife, arms crossed, head down, shaking just enough so you knew that he was going to lose it at any second.
“Holy fuck,” Jude Coughlin, Dane’s oldest friend from back in their prep school days, swore as he walked into our circle. “We’re all gonna have to stay out here in order to breathe since there’s no air left in the entire goddamn apartment!”
Rick started snickering; his wife put her face down on my shoulder.
“Because he sucked it all out!” Jude went on. “Jesus!”
“What are you talking about?” I was indignant. “He has wing tips made out of seagull, for crissakes! That’s the important thing.”
“It’s seal,” Aubrey corrected me, obviously trying so hard not to succumb. “Right?”
Jude threw up his hands.
“Who makes boots out of seal?” I asked her dramatically. “My God, woman, don’t you know anything?”
“Stop,” Dane warned slowly because he, too, was just about to break down.
“I mean,” I went on, “so I like talking about myself. Is it my fault that I’m incredibly wealthy, educated, funny, urbane, and gorgeous? Why wouldn’t you want to talk about me? What else would you desire to discuss, peasant?”
He started smiling. “Peasant?”
“I have a ring you can kiss.”
Jude choked on a laugh.
“I have a house in the Hamptons, a penthouse near the Water Tower, and a Park Avenue residence. You’re just jealous. Perhaps if you spent more time managing your stock portfolio and less time masturbating, you would be rich too.”
That was it. Rick lost it. His head went back, and he howled. Aubrey was laughing so hard that she was barely able to breathe, Dane was chuckling and rubbing his eyes because they were watering, and Jude was clutching Dane’s shoulder as he joined Rick in raucous laughter.
“I will beat you all to death,” Aja announced as she came charging out onto the balcony.
“Not me,” Dane said. “You need me.”
She growled at him before turning on me. I made big eyes for her and batted my eyelashes.
“You.” She glared.
“What?”
“Oh, that innocent act is crap!”
“You’re gonna make me pee,” Aubrey barely got out. “Stop it!”
“He’s an ass,” I told my sister-in-law, enunciating the word for her. “How were you ever friends with that guy?”
She had to think.
“He probably changed,” Dane offered, rubbing his forehead. “Right, love?”
She turned and looked at him because the endearment the man was not big on using made her bite her bottom lip.
“Yes?”
“He was more grounded.” She took a breath. “I think he’s trying too hard.”
“Oh, you think so?” Jude chuckled. “Aja, darling, may I buy you a diamond?”
His comment, his inflection, made me laugh.
She swatted his chest.
Dane intercepted her hand as she pulled it back and drew her to his side, and she fit, as she always had, under the man’s arm. She passed me her wineglass so she could put both of her hands on Dane as she leaned into him.
“We haven’t even had dinner yet,” Rick finally said, still with traces of laughter in his voice, wiping at his eyes. “We’ll all be held hostage through the meal.”
“Oh, those poor people we left him in there with,” Aubrey said sadly.
I couldn’t hold in the snickering. “If Sam were here, he’d shoot him.”
“Which is why Sam’s not allowed to bring his firearm to dinner parties,” Dane stated drolly.
“Sam’s always armed, and that reminds me,” I said, leveling a gaze at my brother. “Why in the world did you pack Hannah’s Super Soaker to take with us to the apartment?”
He squinted. “My son would want his water gun. Why would your daughter not want hers? That makes no sense.”
“No.” I made a face at him. “A water gun in an apartment makes no sense.”
“As though you and logic have ever been formally introduced,” he scoffed. “Nine times out of ten, your decisions are flawed.”
“At least I don’t have shoes made out of baby duck.”
His snort of laughter got him a pinch from his wife, and I noticed then that her focus was on me. I grinned like a crazy man.
“You.”
“Me?”
“You.” Aja nodded.
“What?”
“You’re so bad.”
“Me? He’s the one with seagull dress shoes.”
“Jory!”
The doorbell rang.
“Maybe that’s his missing date.” Jude sounded hopeful. “Please, God, deliver us.”
“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Aja chided him.
We all looked at her, and Dane kissed her forehead.
Maybe Randall Erickson was a nice guy who was simply very nervous in the company of such a successful group of people. But he went to the bottom of my list when I emerged from the kitchen and saw my husband’s ex standing there.
“Everyone, I’d like you to meet Dr. Kevin Dwyer. He—”
“Jory,” Kevin greeted me, smiling, and I didn’t miss the way his eyes swept by me, searching for my mate.
I was instantly pissed.
“You know Jory?” Randall asked, and he looked concerned.
“Not Jory. We have a mutual acquaintance.”
Breathe in, breathe out.
“Oh? Who’s that?” Aja wanted to know.
I cleared my throat. “He knows Sam.”
“Really?” Dane said like that was the most fascinating news ever.
“Really, really,” I muttered.
The mock cheerfulness was not lost on him.
“I see.” He nodded, his eyes meeting mine. “Shall we eat?”
“Yes.” I forced a smile for him.
I remembered, as I took a seat at the long table next to Jude, facing Rick, that before I’d had kids, I had been a follower.
It was not a revelation; it had come quite some time before, but at times like the present, I could actually see changes in myself.
In the past, I had looked to Dane or others to make me comfortable in stressful situations.
I had relied on the physical presence of my brother to steer me to the table or talk to me over dinner.
But I wasn’t that guy anymore. Yes, I still counted on my brother for the big-ticket items, like shelter so hit men couldn’t get me and my kids when my other half was missing, but I didn’t need him to direct my life anymore and make me feel better in my own skin.
I didn’t need to call for backup anymore unless there was something external, like my kid was hurt and there had to be police or a lawyer.
I wasn’t a child anymore; I had two of my own.
The meal was fine, nothing really memorable about it.
The waitstaff was efficient and courteous.
The chef must have been great because everyone remarked about how good the food was, and the wine, from Dane’s collection, was apparently a triumph.
It all tasted fine to me, but nothing extraordinary.
If Sam’s father had been there, making his world-famous bacon cheeseburgers, then there would have been something to gush about.
As it was, I was ready to go home. Even though I loved my brother and his wife, I realized that us mixing socially just didn’t work.
My idea of a sit-down dinner was Sunday night with Sam’s parents or the evenings I had with Dane and Aja and their kids.
I was no longer a cocktails and hors d’oeuvres and a four-star meal kind of guy—if I ever had been.
When dinner was done, as the staff asked if the guests wanted coffee with their dessert, I stood up and walked to the end of the table and squatted down beside Dane’s chair.
“Yes?” His brows were furrowed.
“No, nothing, just”—my voice dropped low—“I’m worried about Kola, and my brain’s not here, and I was really douchey to Randall, and it’s not his fault. I normally make allowances for everyone, but I just wanna go.”
“Of course, I understand. Sunday, when you bring the kids back, we’ll have dinner just us somewhere,” he said, his hand dropping gently to my shoulder. “Are you sure you’re still up to taking them on Friday?”
“Oh, absolutely. You guys pack overnight clothes for them, and I’ll grab them after school.”
“Thank you,” Aja murmured, turning me to her as she took hold of my hand.
“Course,” I said, kissing her as I stood up before going around the table to Rick.
“Hey, where are you going?” Aubrey asked me.
“Home,” I sighed, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “I’m worried about Kola.”
“Oh, honey, Rick told me. You’re so good; I’d have hired a hit man to take care of that guy. You’re showing amazing restraint.”
Smiling, I squeezed the hand she offered me and then turned to her husband. “You wanna get up so I can hug you or what?”
He chuckled and rose. I leaned, and he grabbed me. It was not something he and I did—the hugging—but it was warranted.
“I couldn’t figure up from down today, and I really needed some help. You were great, and Nadira was awesome when she came over and explained what she was doing and what was going on and what I should expect. Thanks for just stepping in and fixing stuff. That’s normally Sam’s part.”
He gave me a last squeeze, and then I moved back.
“It’s no problem,” he assured me. “We’re friends too, you know?”
“We are,” Aubrey chimed in, taking my hand and squeezing it.
“Okay,” I agreed before leaving them, heading toward the coat closet beside the front door.
I was pulling on my topcoat when someone called my name.
“Mr. Harcourt.”
“Oh, hey.” I grinned at Randall when I turned. “Man, I’m sorry I was a dick to you—so not your fault. And please, call me Jory.”
“I … pardon?”
I pointed at my nose. “When I was doing you, I did that nasally thing you do when you talk, like a … goose sort of noise. That was an asshole move, and—”
“I’m sorry?”
Uh-oh.
“Well, when I was telling my friend Dylan about you on the phone,” I lied, “I said there was this guy at my brother’s party with me that had shoes made out of platypus or something, and I was sure you had a lot of redeeming qualities, but that, so far, since you were the only one talking, it was kind of hard to get an idea of what those were. ”
“You—”