23
Rowan
The Gala
“Woah,” said Mark, looking at the front entryway as Rowan handed the keys to the valet.
Jenny had elected not to come—she said she felt like a whale and refused to even attempt to find a dress.
Which meant Mark was Rowan’s date. Despite Vivian saying that she’d told Howard, Rowan still felt like it was a sign that she wasn’t serious about him.
As a result, he’d banned everyone from bringing a date and just brought the work team.
“Holy crap,” said Tyrique as he and Teddy exited Delacroix’s Range Rover with Jake and José.
“Yeah,” said Teddy. “I know Viv said the attire was black tie, but somehow I was picturing some sort of mess hall situation. This is…”
They all stared at the glowing interior through the translucent flowers on the window. It was already filled with well-dressed guests. Rowan didn’t want to admit it, but he hadn’t expected this either.
“Is it bad if I say it looks like Alice in Wonderland?” asked Delacroix quietly.
There was silence while they all considered that.
Rowan hadn’t seen Alice in Wonderland in a couple of decades and only vaguely remembered that there had been giant flowers.
Still, he was fully aware that Alice fell under the Disney Princess arena, which could be problematic for younger men to admit to knowing anything about.
“That’s what it looks like to me,” said Rowan confidently, and a chorus of nods followed.
Having decided that knowing what Wonderland looked like was acceptable to their masculine identities, Rowan led them toward the front door, where a photographer was waiting to snap red-carpet pics of the guests arriving.
The guys were enthusiastic about this, and he quickly found himself pulled into a Valkyrie group shot.
After that, there were a variety of poses.
Anyone who thought girls hogged the camera had never been out with a group of young men who felt confident in their fashion choices.
When they started flashing the hardware a little too much, Rowan corralled them and forced them through the door.
Rowan paused at the edge of the party, surveying before diving in.
“OK,” said Teddy, who was sometimes a vocal processor. “Multiple points of entry. Cover points behind the big cement columns. That’s nice. No visible threats. Don’t know if anyone’s checked the staff.”
“We’re not working,” murmured Rowan, even though Teddy’s monologue echoed his own thoughts.
“I know you’re right, but I don’t know how to turn it off,” said Teddy, sounding concerned.
“We don’t. But we keep the threat assessments on the inside when it’s not our party,” said Mark.
“We are all carrying, right?” asked Tyrique, nervously touching the outside of his jacket as if reassuring himself that his gun was still there.
Rowan realized that attending this kind of party as guests instead of working as security was causing more anxiety for his team than he had thought it would. He should have prepared them better.
“Yes, of course,” said Rowan, trying to reassure and correct simultaneously. “But, again, that is an inside-the-head thought.”
“I just wanted to make sure,” said Tyrique, sounding embarrassed.
“I wore my dress 1911,” said Teddy. “With the pearl grips.”
“Ooh!” exclaimed Mark. Rowan gave him a look, and Mark raised his hands and grinned.
Mark knew what Rowan was thinking, but as always, he was the half-step between Rowan, who had to be proper, and the team, who were sometimes too green to keep themselves out of trouble.
“Gentlemen, if one of you takes out a gun right now, I will be very displeased,” said Rowan, trying not to laugh.
“I was just saying that I dressed for the occasion,” said Teddy. “It’s Viv’s big night.”
“And I’m sure she will appreciate the effort,” said Rowan, thinking she actually would, “but probably no one else will.”
“And what are you carrying?” Mark asked, refusing to be cowed.
“A Walther PPK,” admitted Rowan.
“James Bond,” said Jake. “Classic.”
“If I’m going to be fancy, then I should be fancy,” said Rowan, and that got a chuckle. “Now, ask Mark what he’s carrying.”
“Just my standard fancy dress munitions. A Glock 19, a pocket knife, and a vintage derringer that Jenny got me on my ankle.”
“That’s true love,” said Tyrique.
“It is, but I don’t think we can say it’s normal,” said Rowan. “So, for one night, let’s all pretend like we’re reasonable people and keep our guns to ourselves.”
“Well, we’ll do our best,” said Mark. “But it’s very difficult.”
Rowan took a quick glance at the crew and saw with relief that they looked more relaxed.
Once again, he and Mark had turned their stupid banter into something that helped.
Rowan shook his head and moved into the fray.
Waiters circled through the crowd with appetizers, but most people seemed to congregate near a long table with a smattering of hors d’oeuvres and the two bars.
Rowan began to recall snatches of conversation from Vivian’s many phone calls.
Balancing the budget against staffing considerations, which appetizers to select, all the myriad details that had seemed like silly things to worry about became solid concerns as he realized that a third bar would have cut down on the lines but had been nixed due to budgetary concerns.
The guys split up, double teaming the bars to see who would get to the front of the line first and then switching to the winner.
Rowan briefly saw Howard, who waved at him cheerfully over the crowd, and Rowan felt a knot in his neck that he hadn’t been aware of begin to ease.
Howard adored Vivian, so if he was still smiling at Rowan, then it seemed their relationship really did have his approval.
The doors into the dining room opened, and the crowd began to trickle through them. As if on cue, Rowan’s team reassembled. They hung back, as usual, to wait for the group to clear. A priest was circling through the guests, seeming to herd them toward the doors.
“Welcome,” said a smiling, round-faced priest coming toward them.
“I don’t think we’ve met.” He had thinning gray hair, but Rowan couldn’t help noticing that there didn’t seem to be any paunch around his middle, and he still walked with the firm tread of someone who knew how to go the distance without falling out.
“You must be Chappie,” said Rowan, and the priest’s head cocked to one side as if assessing.
“Well, these days, most people call me Father Fred,” he said with a smile. “Not many people remember when I had more combat boots than collars. You must be Vivian’s Marine.”
“Ha!” said Mark, then seemed to realize he’d said it out loud. “I mean, yes, sir, he is.”
Father Fred grinned.
“Rowan Valkyrie,” said Rowan, holding out his hand.
“Good to meet you,” said Father Fred, shaking his hand with a firm grip. Rowan found himself being scrutinized in a way that he hadn’t experienced in a very long time. He was being held against an invisible yardstick, and he would be up the proverbial shit creek if he didn’t measure up.
“Viv’s upstairs getting dressed,” said Father Fred. “As usual, she worked until the very last minute.”
“Um, Chappie?” asked Tyrique, leaning in. “Viv said that if any of the guys wanted to donate, we could give it to you when we got here.”
“Yes, of course,” said Father Fred, looking surprised.
“Oh, good,” said Tyrique, reaching in his pocket. “It’s been making me nervous.” He handed the envelope to the priest with a sigh of relief.
“You didn’t have to do that,” said Rowan, worried that the guys had been pressured because of his relationship with Vivian.
“Yeah, we know. But Teddy looked up the Victory Mission when Viv told him about it, and we all had a look,” said Jake. At six-foot-five, with a Virginia accent, Jake’s baritone voice always sounded like it was coming from on high. “Some of the guys who aren’t here tonight wanted to pitch in.”
“I’m sure she’ll really appreciate that,” said Rowan. He felt touched that they’d made the effort but also a little embarrassed that he hadn’t bothered to look up the Victory Mission too. He had been focused on the party, not the cause.
“Well, I think everyone’s had too many Monsters and a dark night or two,” said Tyrique, now more embarrassed than ever. “If there’s someone out there who could help, then that’s pretty worthwhile.”
“Ugh. Monsters,” said Father Fred. “That takes me back. Although, I’ve always been more of a coffee drinker myself.”
“Did you know,” began José, “that the red can of Folger’s can hold nearly a pound of explo—”
Rowan cleared his throat sharply.
“Stuff,” finished José. “It’s watertight and holds a lot of stuff.”
“Actually, we got over a pound in one,” said Father Fred. “And we blew up a cow.”
There was a squeak from Teddy as he tried to keep himself from laughing. Beside Rowan, Mark’s shoulders shook in silent guffaws.
“We felt bad about it,” said Father Fred, looking sadly reflective.
“It was an accident. The cow wasn’t supposed to be there.
And we did pay for it. I still think of burgers every time I see that red canister.
But you’re more Monster drinkers, are you?
I’m getting too old for that kind of thing, but I’ve had more than my share of Ultra Golden Pineapple. ”
“Peachy Keen,” said Tyrique.
“Papillion,” said Delacroix.
There was a chorus of Monster Energy Drink flavors, and Rowan vividly recalled each one.
“Nitro Super Dry,” Rowan said. “And that is why we don’t stock it at work.”
“Ultra Violet,” said Mark with a wistful sigh.
“And how much caffeine do we drink now?” asked Rowan, looking sternly at the team.
“Four hundred milligrams a day,” said Jake dutifully.
“That’s right. Four hundred is our limit as per the USDA,” said Rowan. “And Teddy, I see you crossing your fingers.”
“Well, I mean, the USDA says lots of stuff is bad for you. But what do they really know?”
Father Fred chuckled. “Well, we do know that disrupted sleep affects depression rates, and caffeine can impact sleep. So maybe we want to keep our addiction under control just a little?”
“Four hundred is still four point six Monsters,” said José. “I did the math.”
“That’s not too bad,” said Teddy thoughtfully.
Father Fred met Rowan’s gaze, and Rowan could see laughter bubbling beneath the surface.
“So you didn’t leave the military so much as take it with you?” asked Father Fred.
“Um, yes,” said Rowan. “Yes. That would appear to be the case.”
Father Fred chuckled.
“Hello,” said a Black woman in a sharp-looking tuxedo pantsuit. She wore a headset, and Rowan thought he recognized her from the donut shop.
“Hello, Ashley,” said Father Fred. “Did you need me for something?”
“No, we’re still in the mingling phase. However, Vivian suggested that Rowan might want to meet her in the backstage prep area.”
The team was tactfully quiet, but he could sense a lot of mugging behind him.
“Thanks,” said Rowan. “I’d love to.”
“Right this way,” said Ashley, making a polite gesture.
“Mark, I’ll meet you at the table?”
“Whatever,” said Mark with a shrug. “We are not working this party. You do you. Or, you know, whatever Viv wants.”
Ashley chuckled. “He’ll meet you at the table. Viv’s got to be at the front to keep things on schedule. Although we’ll be lucky if she remembers to eat.”
“Take away her phone,” said Mark. “That’s what I always do with him.” He jerked his thumb at Rowan.
“Good call,” she said with a smile. “Rowan?”
He followed her and realized that they were in the awkward zone of knowing about each other without actually knowing each other.
“Everything is going all right?” he asked as they walked. “She wasn’t panicked when she left and seemed to think everything was under control.”
Ashley laughed. “Vivian doesn’t panic even when it’s not under control. But I think we’re all good. Pre-event donations are up, and that always bodes well. I think this might be our best year yet.”
“Good to hear,” said Rowan, not that he had really expected anything else.
Ashley led him to a back hallway area that had been curtained off with black fabric.
“Just wait here,” said Ashley with a smile. “She’ll be down in a minute.”
“Thanks,” he said. She disappeared, and Rowan set himself to being patient. Boredom was a skill the military instilled with careful training and brute strength.
But he hadn’t been standing for more than thirty seconds when he saw Belinda approaching. She wore a sweeping blue gown that emphasized her long legs and smiled as she approached him.
Rowan tensed, uncertainly. Women—at least a certain segment of women—liked a man in uniform.
He’d become adept over the years at spotting the ones who liked the dress blues but weren’t particular about which man was underneath.
But being the owner of his own company put him in an entirely new environment and he still wasn’t sure how to react to the predators in this new jungle.
His training said to always be polite, but that hadn’t worked out so well last time
“I thought I saw you come this way.”
Rowan had no idea how to respond.