Chapter Three
RAVEN
I KEEP my head on a slow-moving swivel as I observe the festivities around me.
The speakers are well placed, covering the large, wide space evenly with the upbeat music the band is playing.
They started a little messily, but they seem to have found their groove an hour into their four-hour set.
The smells of a party in full swing surrounds me.
Cooking meats, browning sugars, various liquors, the unmistakable smell of hundreds of different colognes and perfumes coming together.
It’s a smell not so very different from my day job.
The one major difference, of course, is that I know at least half of the nearly four hundred guests here.
That fact makes pure observation of the goings-on a difficult task, as familiar faces pull me aside for conversation.
Eve Adams, a partner at Mom’s law firm, looks thrilled to see me when she spots me near the cake table.
“Raven, it’s wonderful to see you!” she says, pulling me into a friendly hug. “This dress is so flattering on you!”
“Thank you. It’s great to see you, Eve. How are things at the firm? How’s Alan?”
“That silly man double-booked himself today, but he should be here soon.” She laughs. “How’s California? Your mom was telling me about a new contract you might be starting. How’s that going?”
“It’s going well. I’m hopeful that by the time I return home, they will be ready to sign with us. The Green Harp just gained historical significance status from the Santa Monica Historical Society.”
“That’s exciting,” Eve offers.
“It is. It means there could be grant money to renovate the place, so our company won’t have to invest as much capital at the beginning.”
“That all sounds positive.” Eve nods. “So I wanted to run an idea by you. I was racking my brain trying to remember who my best connections are in the L.A. area. You see my nephew…”
She continues speaking, but my attention gets pulled away from Eve when I hear a change in the sound quality of the music. It sounds muffled for a second, with one instrument under pitch for an eight count, before the sound clears up again.
“…and I can set you two up.”
“I’m sorry, what?” I ask, caught off guard by where I am in this conversation.
“My nephew, Bennett. He just moved out to Pasadena.”
“Oh, yes, sorry, Eve. Yeah, I don’t mind showing him around. Pasadena isn’t far from L.A.”
“He’s a great man.”
I nod. “If he’s related to you, I bet he is.”
“He just graduated with his master’s in engineering and moved out there for his new job.”
I nod again, although the action is slower this time.
“He’s making such good money he was able to put a down payment on a house.”
“That’s great for him,” I say.
I feel my eyebrows trying to knit together, but I force my expression to remain neutral.
“And with California housing what it is, can you believe that?”
Here we go again.
“That is a huge accomplishment,” I say flatly.
“So what about you, Ray? Other than work, what’s new in your life?”
I shrug. “Nothing much. Work takes up the best hours of my day. There are a lot of moving parts in a business like Headliner Music Acquisition, and I’m always trying to learn more. That doesn’t leave a lot of hours in the day for much else.”
“So, no significant other?”
“No, not really. I spend 90% of my time with my co-workers. That seems like it could get real messy real fast.”
Eve smiles. “That is a smart choice. I really cannot fault you for seeing the wisdom in that. Even the most amicable splits can lead to tension in the workplace. But what about outside of work? No one’s caught your fancy outside of work?”
“Umm…” I say, trying to stall.
Eve takes that as an invitation to keep going.
“Well, you know there are lots of different ways to meet people these days. Dating apps, websites, speed dating events. One of our clients met her wife at a tattoo convention.”
I shouldn’t be surprised that we’re having this conversation at a wedding, and yet…
I really have to suppress eye rolls and groans.
Glancing past Eve, I see Jeremy Treeburn, a longtime family friend, making his way to the cake table.
He meets my eyes, and I wave, silently inviting him into the conversation.
He looks like a column made from pure obsidian as he moves through the other guests towards us.
“Ray! Eve! Fancy meeting you both here,” he says loudly, his smile wide and stark against his dark skin.
“Hello, Jeremy,” Eve says, greeting him with a classic air kiss on each cheek.
Like most ballers, Jeremy has to lean far over to meet the gesture at around 6’7”.
“Hi Jeremy, are you enjoying yourself?” I ask.
“I am, thank you.” He leans over again, greeting me with an overdramatic kiss on my forehead, just like when I was a little kid running around Mom’s offices. He continues, “I cannot believe little Dove Dexter is married. Gosh, I’ve known you both since you were like this big.”
He gestures to around his knees.
“Yeah, something like that,” I say.
“Rumor has it you planned this whole thing.”
“I did. I promised Dove that when they got back from their honeymoon, we would have the reception to end all receptions.”
“If this is what you can do with no notice, I look forward to seeing what you come up with for your own wedding.”
Shit.
Calling Jeremy over was supposed to get me out of this line of questioning Eve was clearly on regarding my love life. Why I thought that would work is beyond me.
“Any chance we’ll be hearing wedding bells for you anytime soon?” he says.
“Mmm…” I say noncommittally.
“Excuse me, Raven,” someone says behind me, and I turn to see the location coordinator, Lou.
Lou is the only reason I was able to pull this reception off in three weeks. He alerted me when another event was canceled. He helped me connect with local vendors for food and decor, and he’s been on site with me all day.
“Hey, Lou. Problem?”
“Yes, it’s minor, but in need of your attention.”
“Excuse me, Eve. Jeremy. Duty calls.”
They both nod, their expressions understanding.
“What’s wrong, Lou?” I ask once we are several feet from Eve and Jeremy.
I’m expecting him to lead me to the kitchen or somewhere else, but instead we step into an alcove.
“Eat,” he says, pushing a small plate into my hands.
I keep my pleased moan to myself as I take his offering.
“Oh, thank you. I barely ate at dinner.”
“I noticed. I’ve seen it a dozen times at this point,” Lou says, putting his hands on his hips.
“You’re family, so you need to be with the bride and groom.
But you’re the coordinator, so you also need to be everywhere else.
That never leaves enough time for basic human needs. Have you had enough water?”
I nod. “Fully hydrated.”
“Then I think it’s time for you to go enjoy the fruits of your labor. If something major happens, I’ll come find you.”
“You’re sure?” I ask, taking another bite of the food. Pasta has never tasted so amazing.
“Yes.”
“Thank you, Lou.”
Peeking out of the alcove to make sure Eve and Jeremy are not there, I step out.
I find my parents on one of the little love seats several dozen feet back from the main dance floor.
They’re easy to spot: Mom in a fitted floor-length gown that shimmers in the deepest plum and Dad complementing her in one of the most dapper three-piece suits I’ve ever seen him wear, two tones lighter than her dress.
I’ve hardly had a chance to really talk to them today.
I’ve been up and moving so much, so I join them.
“Raven, you really did a magnificent job here. This is truly something special.”
I turn to meet my mother’s eyes.
“Really?” I ask, surprised.
Mom has spent her entire professional career attending meticulously planned events with plate prices high enough to make the average person blush. She’s been invited to weddings by current and former clients across the world. She knows a well-coordinated event when she sees one.
She leans into me and lowers her voice. “Between you and me, I was a little disappointed when they decided to elope, and I know Betty was too. But this,” she gestures to the space, “This is more than a consolation prize you’ve put together.
This event is a true gift you’ve given your sister.
And to think you planned this all in just a few weeks. ”
“Thanks, Mom.” I smile, feeling buzzed in a good way.
“I, for one, was not disappointed,” Dad interjects. “A year of wedding planning and endless stresses when all the real fun happens at the reception? Plus,” he turns to Mom, “now your mother won’t be able to complain about Dovey living with RJ outside of wedlock.”
My maternal grandmother, Nan, can be a little old-fashioned in some of her ideas. But I also can’t blame her for thinking Dove should be cautious.
When Dove first introduced me to RJ during Christmas over three years ago, it was an instant dislike.
I hated the fact that he hurt her, even if she wouldn’t give me all the details of what happened between them.
But she gave me enough for me to know it was toxic and dangerous.
What she described reminded me too much of my own past relationships.
One bad boyfriend after another failed relationship, after another toxic situationship.
Saying I’ve been luckless in love is an understatement, and truthfully, it’s made me more than a little weary.
But my baby sister is a lover inside and outside.
She can’t help but fall fast and hard. And despite their issues in the beginning, in the years since, I see every second of every day how much RJ cares for Dove.
His natural state is to be an asshole, but I see how soft and happy he is when she’s around.
He would do anything for her. Well, almost anything.
I’m not sure he’d kill anyone for her, but he’d definitely beat the crap out of them.
Who are you kidding? RJ is crazy. He’d absolutely kill someone for Dove.
But that honestly makes me like him more, not less.
“That is…true.” Mom concedes with a smile, leaning over to give Dad a kiss on his cheek.
I stretch my legs out a little, glad to be off my feet for a few minutes.
I know I can’t rest for long though, even with Lou here.
A venue this size, across three floors of activity, needs to be constantly monitored.
I watch the nearby guests move with the music and each other.
I catch glimpses of Dove and RJ dancing together through the bodies.
RJ can really pull off a completely white suit, and Dovey looks ethereal in her cream-toned dress, the skirt flouncing around her with every turn and dip she makes.
Dad stands from his chair as one of his favorite songs plays and holds his hand out towards Mom.
“May I have this dance, my queen?”
“You may.”
They step out onto the floor, leaving me to watch everyone and take in the beautiful moment.
My view is suddenly blocked by an enormous man.
I look up at his face, recognizing him as one of RJ’s teammates.
He’s about six feet tall, with short brown hair and a smile that could catch a pair of panties on fire.
“Hello,” he says in a dreamy tone.
“Hello,” I reply, leaning back to take him in.
“Would you like to dance?”
I actually would rather sit for a few more minutes, but I decide to take Lou’s advice and embrace the occasion. He’s fine as hell, and I’m feeling the music right now.
“Sure,” I say, taking his offered hand.
We only take a few steps towards the rest of the party, still mostly apart from them. His skin is this warm shade of ocher, his low fade looking neat and fresh. His left hand finds my waist. As we begin to move, his grip remains high enough on my back to stay on the right side of friendly.
“My name’s Amore.”
“Amore? Is that a last name?”
“Nope. Amore Lester.”
I shake my head, saying, “That is not your name, sir.”
He chuckles, looking a little sheepish.
“It is.”
“That is a great name!”
“Glad you feel that way. My name inspired a lot of nicknames and songs when I was a kid.”
“Kids can be little shits.”
“Damn, ain’t that the truth. I’ll drink to that!”
And so we do. When the song ends, we make our way to the bar. Amore proves to be a pleasant distraction for the next hour.
We chat about our jobs and about the occasion.
He’s sweet and charming and looking more kissable with each drink we share, my inhibitions lowering as the night presses on.
As the band plays their final songs (sans the lead singer), I feel a dip in my energy.
Damn, I really want to sit down again, but there are still a few hours left of the party.
The DJ is now taking over. The heavy beat the DJ is creating rattles inside my body.
As a new song begins thumping through the speakers, Amore gets an important call.
“Take it,” I tell him, “I’m going to step outside for a moment, get some fresh air.”
He nods and steps away from me, looking for a quiet spot to take the call.
Just as he disappears from sight, I catch sight of Jeremy, towering over most everyone.
Disinterested in continuing that conversation with him or really anyone else, I duck into the stairwell, looking for an escape to the outside.