15 - Lauren
Lauren
Finding something to wear for Clara’s birthday party proved to be more difficult than I thought.
It was a fancy affair, hosted in an opulent refurbished warehouse gallery in the West Loop.
But the venue and theme was a perfect fit for her personality—sharp, high-energy and powerful but with a playfulness that rounded her out.
I wanted to make a good impression with her and her friends and so, of course, I found myself overthinking what I was going to wear. But eventually, I snagged a midnight emerald slip dress with a thigh-high slit and strappy black heels that I thought fit the occasion perfectly.
I opted for a few gunmetal pieces of minimalist jewelry and a classy wavy hairstyle to top it all off.
I was sitting in front of a lone mirror in my otherwise still-disordered bedroom, fighting to smooth out the last of my waves and trying desperately not to think about whether any of the guys were gonna pitch tonight.
I wasn’t worried about that, not at all.
I certainly wasn’t flitting my eyes to my phone on the bed waiting for a text from any of them.
When I’d asked them about it, Brock had been the first to hedge the question.
He’d said that he wasn’t sure if he’d be free but he’d see what happened.
Callum had mentioned something about not having a nice enough suit and Rafe just lobbed off some stupid comment that had me roll my eyes and immediately change the subject.
But there’d still been that potential of what if and maybe.
I finished my hair, and after one final check in the mirror, I decided to just call a cab and head to the party. Guess I was showing up solo and that was absolutely fine.
The outside of the building already looked lavish and expensive.
I’d been to a few high-end venues before for photo shoots with high profile clients, but it was a different thing altogether to be invited as a guest to a party.
With my job, I could just fade into the background, simply part of the decor.
But for some reason, I worried that tonight would be different.
And with the reception I’d received so far, I was feeling even more on edge.
I thought back to the calming strength of Callum’s presence during the community meeting and how he’d helped keep me grounded even when things got out of control.
Okay, I wished they were here with me. But I was used to being alone. That’s how I’d survived for all these years, and just because I had a few months of learning to lean on others, didn’t undo my natural instinct. I’d be fine.
I took a deep breath, then climbed out of the cab and began to walk up to the entrance doors.
The rugged exterior boasted a huge oversized steel door with a glowing neon “C” hanging over the industrial brick.
I could already hear the music pouring out of the venue, a blend of soulful house and mellow baselines.
It was the type of music that instantly put me in the mood to party and enjoy myself.
Walking in, I was greeted with high ceilings and raw concrete floors with exposed beams lit up by the warm, golden glow of Edison bulb chandeliers and a glass wall framing the Chicago skyline beyond.
An open bar was set up in a corner, and the place was thrumming with guests all sipping on glass flutes or languidly swaying their bodies to the beat.
It all looked sophisticated but still fun.
My eyes eventually found the birthday girl, who looked stunning in a liquid gold dress that was tastefully melded to her body.
The asymmetrical one-shoulder number looked just as expensive as the venue choice and screamed “the boss is here.” She wore a gorgeous side-parted blow out that showed off an expensive set of gold earrings.
When she saw me, she immediately left the small group of people she’d been talking to and made her way over to me.
“Lauren!” she greeted, grabbing my arms and giving me an air kiss on the cheek. She looked me up and down, her eyes shimmering. “You look stunning!”
“Nowhere near as stunning as you,” I said truthfully, waving a hand.
She linked her arm with mine. “You flatter me. Okay, so you’ll be happy to know that the guest list was pretty exclusive, meaning that you don’t have to worry about any unsavory folks ruining the vibe. Everyone here is pretty laid-back despite the glitter and heels.”
We spoke as we walked to the bar, just catching up on things until she ordered us both the same fancy, fruity-looking drink. She passed it to me and we toasted before sharing a sip.
“I expected you to come with an entourage,” Clara said, her mouth still pursed at the surprising bite of it.
“Guess they had other plans,” I said, trying to ignore the twist in my stomach that had little to do with the alcohol. I wasn’t the type of woman to be bothered by something like this. It was beneath me.
Clara put a hand on my elbow. “Well, I hope you’ll have fun regardless. Eat, drink, schmooze and be merry. If you need me I’ll be somewhere around the room, so just come find me.”
She left in a bubble of scented rose, patchouli and amber and I stared around the room, weighing up whether I should bother trying to network or not.
I wasn’t a fool. Clara was intelligent but she was far from subtle.
I knew that part of the reason for emphasizing the room was to get me to try and make contacts, given my aforementioned lack of work.
These were the type of clients who paid well for corporate photography. I smiled at her consideration and foresight, then downed the rest of my drink and took up the opportunity. There was no point in trying to be proud about this, not this time.
I was around maybe twenty minutes deep into networking and had taken quite a few numbers when I made a beeline for the bar again and that’s when I saw them.
If I wasn’t so well-acquainted with them already, I would not have been able to recognize them at all.
Callum wore a classic navy three-piece suit with a white shirt and silk patterned tie.
His shaggy blonde locks were neat but not styled.
He kept fiddling with the cuffs of his jacket, looking less and less comfortable the more his eyes roamed the room.
Rafe looked decidedly rogue-ish in a charcoal grey slim-fit suit.
He’d foregone a tie and left the top two buttons of his black shirt open.
His hair actually was styled, somehow looking both intentionally messy and textured.
He had his signature smirk on his face, not looking the least bit uncomfortable even though given his past, I would’ve thought he’d feel the most out of place.
And then there was Brock. Gone were the sawdust-covered flannel and cargo pants and tool belts that he always wore around the house.
Now he wore a tailored forest green suit with a textured, expensive-looking vest. I didn’t know if it was new or something he happened to have in his wardrobe, but damn if he didn’t look good as fuck wearing it.
In fact, they all looked absolutely gorgeous. Brain-meltingly so, actually.
I fidgeted with my dress before changing my path and heading for them.
Brock was the first to see me. His face was impassive as always, a mask of silent observation.
But I could’ve sworn I saw his throat bob as I approached.
I thought I saw his eyes do the most covert dip down my body before immediately snapping back up and staying there.
“I’m glad to see you could make it,” I said to all three of them, grinning at them with genuine happiness.
Callum smiled at me, stepping around Brock to actually give me a quick hug. “You look beautiful, Miss Lauren,” he said, his hand lingering only a fraction of a moment too long on my back before he pulled away. His eyes were sparkling but Rafe’s?
His eyes were hungry, unabashedly drinking me in like he was a starving man placed before a buffet.
“You clean up nice,” he said casually, his voice far calmer than I would’ve expected. He stuck his hands in his pockets.
“So do all of you,” I said, making a point of checking them out. “If you’re not careful, you might just end up pulling all the women in this room. Maybe a few of the men, too.”
While I framed the compliment as a joke, inside I was a mess of emotions and the one buried right at the bottom was desire.
It hit me every time I noticed Callum’s light blush, or the conspiratorial lust in Rafe’s eyes, or the way Brock’s presence piqued the attention of everyone in the near vicinity regardless of his slight discomfort.
Everything about these men made me want to jump their bones and I feared that if I didn’t leash those feelings, I was going to give myself away before I was ready.
“You know, even if that was true, you’d have first-pick,” Rafe said, falling into the banter just as he always did.
“How generous of you,” I said, feeling a little more at ease now that I was faced with something as familiar as Rafe’s snark. “I’m honored.”
The music had now changed to something slow and romantic. Callum stepped forward, holding his hand out to me.
“May I?” he asked.
My heart fluttered at the request. It might have been corny coming from anyone else, but he was so genuinely sweet that it didn’t register as anything less than sincere.
“Of course,” I said, placing my palm in his.
I couldn’t help but shoot Rafe and Brock a quick glance, not sure how they’d respond to this.
Rafe looked aloof if not slightly amused and signaled to Brock that they should head to the bar.
Brock’s mouth was pulled taut and he gave Callum a look of his own that I couldn’t decipher before he followed Rafe.