14. Paige
The party Maxon brought me to is all loud music and flashing lights in the front room, as if whoever planned this wanted it to resemble that of a nightclub in all the worst ways possible. As if to emphasize my point, most of the guests had funneled outside into the evening air where a large patio surrounded an in-ground pool and Jacuzzi which was brimming with even more guests despite the chill in the air. At least they had portable heaters going, keeping the area around the pool a decent and manageable temperature.
I gulp, this was the issue with ever going anywhere with Maxon. I never fit in. Even now, I glance down to my pleated skirt and sweater, the same thing I wore for work this morning. It was a favorite outfit of mine. And I’d be lying if I didn’t say I liked it even more after seeing the spark in Maxon’s eyes this morning when I came out in it, like I had walked out in some magnificent ball gown not my simple outfit.
And simple is exactly how I feel now.
Surrounding us are women in short party dresses that glimmer in the flickering firelight, and I practically cling to Maxon’s side as he makes his way through the crowds, saying his hellos and quick greetings like he knows everyone.
Maybe he does, he’s so social and gravitational, pulling everyone to him with his charisma and charm.
I hate him for it.
“Maxy!” A booming voice calls from the other side of the pool and before I can determine who just shouted, someone jumps into the water causing a large splash that makes over a dozen people squeal. Max stops at the edge of the pool, with me on one side and Devon on his other as whoever jumped in the pool swims underwater towards us and I have the dawning realization that he was the one that had shouted.
“That’s one way to get around the pool.” I hear Devon mutter right before the swimmer pops up from the water, then gracefully lifts himself onto the ledge with ease, dripping water all over the stone patio.
“Jake,” Maxon wears an amused smile. “That was quite the show.”
The swimmer, Jake, grins back. “Have to make an entrance somehow.” He holds his arms out in show.
Maxon stuffs his hands into his suit pant pockets, a smile still in place as he shakes his head. “Never a worry about that. Is Trevor around?”
Jake nods. “Yeah, he’s back in the house somewhere, what’s up?”
“I got some paperwork I need him to sign.” Maxon says, and I knit my brow at him.
He was working? This was a work thing?
Jake nods as if totally understanding before his blue eyes fall on me. “Why, hello.” A wide, dashing smile crosses his lips. Admittedly, he was a good-looking guy, all trim and sculpted muscle that I’m currently getting a good eyeful of. His short cropped brown hair still clings to droplets of clear water that catches the blue pool lights, matching his crisp blue irises.
He was handsome, I suppose, but he was standing next to Maxon who happens to be my very own Adonis, so I guess any comparison isn’t really fair.
“Hi, I’m Paige.” I say holding out my hand which Jake takes, his smile only growing.
“Jacob Tawny.”
Tawny, I knew that name…
“Wait, you mean Tawny Media?”
He lets out a curt laugh. “Yeah, that’s the one.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Let me guess, you’re an up and coming singer that just needs me to listen to one of your songs.”
I laugh. “Gosh, definitely not. I can’t sing to save my life. I wouldn’t put anyone through that kind of peril.”
His grin widens, cutting a glance at Maxon who has a frown indenting his forehead, lips pressed into a thin line. “Well, that’s actually kind of refreshing. Let’s go find Trev.”
Still dripping with pool water, Jake begins to lead us back into the large house, snagging a towel off the back of one of the lawn chairs as he goes and Maxon follows closely on his heels while Devon and I drop back a little.
“Did you know Max knew the owners of Tawny Media?” I ask quietly, although I’m not sure anyone else would’ve been able to hear me even if I’d spoken in my normal tone with how loud the rest of the party goers were.
Devon gives me an amused look. “You do realize he works in the music industry, right? Maxon works deals with the majority of recording studios.”
My shoulders drop. Of course I recognize what Maxon does for a living, although it does almost feel surreal sometimes, him brushing shoulders with famous people. All of that seems like a life he lives out in LA, not here in Buffalo. Here he’s the Max I know, the reckless teenager that got in a dirt bike accident while trying to show off, not some shrewd lawyer that dealt with record labels and superstars.
We step through the back door and into the large, chef’s kitchen with an open concept view of the living room. A large stone hearth stretches towards the second story ceiling where exposed cedar beams mix with industrial metalwork that makes the entire room feel cozy and rich at the same time.
I lose Maxon when we step inside from the back patio. And I’m left instead staring in slight horror at the kitchen and the drinks that litter the counters as partiers fill their cups with various forms of alcohol. Stuffing my hand into my purse I feel around for the stack of business cards I’d brought with me with the Events by Paige logo on them.
“I’m going to start making the rounds.” I say to Devon who nods before stalking towards a door that’s set off the kitchen and I can’t help but wonder if that’s where Maxon and Jake had disappeared. I shake the thought off, following Maxon around like a lovesick puppy wasn’t going to get me any kind of potential clients.
Stepping towards the living room I begin to fidget with the pleats in my skirt, finding the courage to approach the group of partiers that lounge on the sofas talking. Suddenly, a heavy arm lands around my shoulder, completely popping any kind of personal bubble I ever dreamed of having.
“Well Paige? What do you think?” Jake asks. He’s put on a t-shirt now, although there are smatterings of wet spots from where water still drips from his hair and where his swim trunks seem to come into contact with it. He motions around us, indicating the house and the lackluster lighting that still strobes every once in a while, but at least it wasn’t nearly as obnoxious as that front room was.
I pinch my face, my gaze going back to the kitchen where food and drinks are mixed on the counter without any kind of organization. Then to the empty hearth that has a large television playing music from its own speakers. You’d think whoever owned the house would have an actual sound system to play music from with a much crisper sound instead of blaring the television.
Jake is waiting for a response though, although I’m sure my expression has already revealed my true feelings. “I think the house is exquisite, but I could’ve planned a much better party.”
His brows rise in surprise. “You don’t say, what makes you believe that?”
I nod. “I’m an event planner, and I can tell whoever planned this didn’t think things through very well.”
He pinches his lips, trying to keep himself from smiling. “This is my house, Paige. I planned this party.”
Drat.
“Oh.” I say, surprise evident in my voice, panic seizes my inside. I hadn’t expected him to say that he had planned the party, I was so used to being around the Bennetts who always hired help for things like this or had me do it and I suppose I’d expect that to be the case here too. “I’m sorry.”
A grin spreads across his face though. “Don’t, I’m very interested in hearing what you have to say.” He holds a red plastic cup for me. “Drink?”
I arch a brow at him before taking the offered drink. “Well, this is the first thing that would have to go. You’re not in college anymore, when you host a party you use real drinkware, not plastic.” I say and I’m even surprised by the confidence in my voice. So confident in fact, I take a sip from the drink Jake just handed me and am surprised by the sweet and tangy flavor that dances across my taste buds. “Oh, this is good, what is it?”
Jake shoots me an amused smile and I immediately know that this is some mixed drink that I should know the name of just by tasting it. “It’s a Long Island Iced Tea.”
Oh, I don’t usually like ice tea, but this one isn’t so bad, even with the subtle flavor of alcohol. Somewhere in the back of my head, a voice reminds me not to drink too much and show this entire group what kind of a lightweight I am. So I just nod and take another sip of my drink. “Well, it’s good.” I mutter into the cup.
Jake barks out a laugh that draws the attention of some of the partiers on the closest couch. He leans against it, watching me, daring me to continue to criticize his party planning capabilities. “So, what else is wrong with my party?” He then nudges one of the girls on the couch who’s watching. “She’s a party planner.” He says and suddenly all eyes are on me.
I gulp. “Well, besides the drink ware, your kitchen is a mess, there’s no stop to the food and beginning to the drinks. It’s practically backed up with people trying to get food and drinks. So, better organization would be high on the list of things that need to be fixed. Also, your sound system needs work. Blaring music from the television makes it so anyone sitting close to it can’t hear what anyone is saying and the people in the kitchen can’t hear the music.” I’m on a tirade now and hardly notice the fact that I’ve gotten everyone’s attention. “And while I’m at it, whose idea was it to put strobe lights in the entry? I walked in and thought I was in a cheap disco club from the early two thousands.”
From the couch off to the left, a girl whoops in agreement.
I glance from person to person who are now watching and silently judging me and I opt to hide behind my plastic cup by taking a long, embarrassed drink from the sweet beverage.
Jake’s grinning at me when I finish the drink, an eyebrow arched in amusement. “Well, I guess I’ll have to consult you the next time I host an event.”
“Oh!” I say, swinging my purse from my shoulder. “I have business cards.” I begin digging into the oversized bag.
“I’ll take one!” The girl that whooped shouts and then there are about half a dozen others asking for them too.
I’m beaming and surrounded by a group of ladies, talking about a birthday party one is planning for her mother-in-law when Devon suddenly appears at my side. “You okay out here?” He asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.
I nod eagerly, downing the rest of my second drink that Jake had brought me. I stand from the stool I’d been sitting on at the kitchen island when I stumble slightly, Devon catching me and his eyebrows coming down into a frown.
“Oh, sorry.” I say, but the world around me swims slightly, my stomach tumbling with it. “It’s these stupid heels.” I say, kicking them off quickly, although the action makes me tip again.
He leans down so he can see into my eyes and I curse being so short, everyone has to look down at me and my body heats from the frustration of it. “Paige, are you okay?” He asks again.
“You already asked that.” I say shortly, shooting him a dark look although his eyes narrow on mine.
“Yeah, well, you’re acting drunk.”
My stomach tumbles again and realization drops like an anvil in my stomach.
I was drunk.
“I need a bathroom.” I say, already pushing past Devon and Jake is suddenly there, looking all kinds of concerned when he takes my arm and leads me quickly to the bathroom.
My stomach tumbles again as we make it to the restroom and I’m on my knees in front of the toilet the second I start throwing up.
Jake swears next to me, then gags slightly and I can tell he’s turned so his back is to me when he speaks. “Are you okay?”
I heave again. “I’m fine.”
I am not fine.
How did I let this happen?
My body is hot with embarrassment as Jake stays in the doorway, obviously unsure if he should leave me while I’m emptying my stomach into his toilet but simultaneously holding back a few gags of his own.
Nice. I’m a lightweight and he has a queasy stomach.
My stomach roars again and I’m astonished how such little alcohol can make me this sick when I hear Maxon’s voice from the hallway.
“What did you do to her?” Fury is laced with his deep baritone and I turn to see him standing in the doorway of the bathroom, holding Jake by his shirt collar and pressed against the doorframe.
Jake is decently tall, but still Maxon stands over him and the glare he’s caught him in seems like he’s on the edge of killing our party host as he holds him against the doorway. “I didn’t do anything, she only had two drinks.” Jake sputters, hands held up in surrender.
I heave again.
“Get out of here.” Maxon’s words are sharp and aimed at Jake and I can feel the electricity in the air coming off their hostile encounter.
I rest my head against my arm on the toilet, trying desperately not to think about the fact it was a toilet and I have no idea who’s sat on it. Suddenly I want to throw up for an entirely different reason.
A hand lands gently on my spine, causing tingles to run the length of it, even more so when Maxon starts to rub my back up and down comfortingly. “Hey, you’re okay. I got you.”
I shake my head against my arm. “I’m so humiliated.” My body tenses as my stomach tumbles again and instantly Maxon gathers my hair away from my face, holding it in one hand while the other still massages my back.
“You’re okay Paige, this happens to everyone.” He says and he sounds so sincere I want to believe him.
Until I heave again.