Chapter 22 #2
It’s been nonstop cops, reporters, and coworkers since Howard’s public confession of fraud and shit-baggery, plus his assault on me, and I’m beyond ready to pick up CJ and run out of the Oakwood ballroom.
I’ll go through a wall Kool-Aid Man-style if necessary.
But at least we’re getting through the last of the Sounder-funded alcohol; once the immediate drama was past, not a single guest seemed anxious to leave, instead choosing to suck down Rumpleshakers while they rehashed every detail of the night.
“Pretty sure we’ll be dining out on this story for the rest of our lives,” CJ says.
Our lives. Fucking hell, I just need five minutes alone so I can drag my tongue tongue up that slit in her dress that’s been making me crazy all ni—
“Mr. Jones?”
My shoulders droop at another stranger approaching to solicit gossip. But in the interest of doing whatever damage control I can on behalf of Sounder, I summon the last of my pleasantness and turn to the newcomer.
It’s the man who was chatting with Reese earlier in the night, and now I’m braced for some kind of misplaced nobility or the unfurling of a one-sided romantic rivalry. But it turns out to be neither.
“I’m Bryce Washington, and I’m starting a new job with the SEC’s Enforcement Division at the start of the year. I’m wondering if you’d be willing to meet with me to share anything you know about your former CEO’s criminal activities.”
I hold up my hand. “Let me stop you right there. I’ve been compiling information for a massive complaint, and my girlfriend’s already filed her concerns with the SEC. We’re both happy to talk with you.”
“More than happy,” CJ says.
Bryce chuckles. “It may not even be that necessary. Between the soundboard automatically recording the mic feeds, the room of witnesses, and the live stream seen by thousands, I suspect we have enough to put him away for a long time. But adding to the evidence never hurts.”
After we’ve exchanged contact information, CJ’s mouth drops into a pout. “But I want to be the star witness against Howard.”
“We can do deposition role-play at home, if you want,” I offer, and we’re both laughing when I notice that the Oakwood ballroom’s finally cleared out enough that we might, maybe, possibly be able to make our escape too.
Our friends left ages ago, and looking around now, it’s mostly the Oakwood event staff clearing the last of the dishes and starting to break down tables.
There’s one I still need to talk to before we can finally ditch this place, however.
“Do you have a minute?” I ask Gerry when CJ and I approach her table. She and Radha have been nursing Rumpleshakers and talking quietly to themselves since Howard was hauled away, but with her wife headed toward the coat check, my window to chat is closing.
“Of course,” she says with a smile, gesturing to the seats next to her.
“First, I’d like to apologize for the chaos tonight,” I say as I help CJ with her chair and sit down next to her.
“There’s no need.” Gerry laughs. “Radha was just saying this isn’t actually the strangest holiday party we’ve ever been to.”
“You’re kidding,” CJ says, extending her hand to shake. “CJ Parrish, Parrish Consulting. And Wyatt’s girlfriend.”
Fuck, I love that.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Gerry says. “And I’m not kidding, although tonight’s likely to crack the top five for the wildlife alone.”
“That’s something, at least.” Steeling myself, I pivot to the real reason I approached her.
“Before you leave, I want you to know that my admiration for your work is sincere. Please don’t take any of this as a reflection of the kind of company Sounder can be or of the dedicated people who work there. ”
Gerry’s eyes catch on a scorched section of carpet where a juggler missed a fiery ring toss, but when she looks back at me, she’s smiling.
“The feeling is entirely mutual,” she says.
“And I’m genuinely interested in hearing more about the educational programs you oversee.
Beyond that, though, I’d just like to stay in touch.
I have a feeling Sounder’s going to look very different in six months, and I like to stay in touch with the people I meet who actually lose sleep over whether their clients are taken care of. There are fewer than you might think.”
The weight that’s been sitting heavy on my chest since I started devising my plan eases. Yes, Howard needed to be stopped, but none of my coworkers deserved the blowback. Still, if Gerry’s willing to look past his actions, I’m hoping our clients will too, eventually.
“Plus,” she says, standing and tossing back the last of her Rumpleshaker, “Radha will want to tell you two about the New Year’s Eve yacht excursion off the Amalfi Coast that puts this party to shame.”
“We’d love that,” CJ says.
We walk with Gerry to the exit so we can say good night to Radha, who links arms with her wife and says, “Let’s get back to the hotel. I want to wash the durian fruit smell out of my hair.”
The two of us are still standing in the front hallway with our mouths open when my sisters emerge with their arms full of coats, leftover hors d’oeuvres, and CJ’s bag of tricks.
Drea looks wary. “We still get to drive your car, right?”
CJ laughs. “Tell you what, I’ll take my bag, you take my car, and we’ll sort it out tomorrow.”
“Really? You’re the best!” Becks bounces on her toes. “Oh, and we totally didn’t see those things in the inside pocket of your bag.”
“Girls,” CJ says slowly. “Did you see those things in the inside pocket of my bag?”
They both make fake gagging noises as I glance between my sisters and my girl. “What’s in the inside pocket of your bag?”
“Those things…” Her gaze cuts to the front of my pants, and she bites her lower lip. “From earlier. When we definitely didn’t—”
The gagging noises from my sisters immediately turn real. “Oh my god, do not tell us,” Drea shouts.
“But you should have a great night,” Becks says, “because you have at least eight of those things left!” Before CJ or I can respond, my sweet, chaotic sister plants kisses on both of our cheeks.
“What was that for?” CJ asks.
Becks points over our heads. “Mistletoe, obviously!”
CJ and I glance up and find that we are, in fact, standing under a cluster of green leaves and white berries.
“The first time I saw your brother was under the mistletoe,” she says.
Her gaze finds mine, and my hand finds hers.
“The most gorgeous woman in the room walked up to me that night and kissed me before she even said hello.” I lift our linked fingers to my mouth. “I was a goner from then on.”
CJ rewards me with the smile I haven’t seen enough of over the past seven years.
“A goner, huh?”
I nod, and my eyes drop to her mouth as she says, “Me too.”
This time, I’m the one who kisses her first.