The minute Lily and I entered the room, I began to search for Judith with my eyes like a thirteen year old who’s just discovered his cock. It wasn’t intentional, but primal nonetheless. I wanted to see what she was wearing, how she’d done her makeup, and who she was with. My educated guess was Gary and Ava. She seemed to be spending a lot of time with them, even though she’d formed strong relationships with Kate, Jessica, and Brianna, too.
Lily did the annoying thing she tended to do on the rare occasions we were out in public, and tugged at my sleeve to make sure I was no more than three inches away from her. We were exchanging pleasantries with a bunch of regular guests on the show—a prosecutor, two judges, and a former producer of a competing network. My father ambled toward us, armed with a date who looked fresh out of high school, his laughter sending uncomfortable chills down my spine. She wore an Oscar De La Renta number and beamed like he’d just picked the stars from the skies and rested them in her palm.
“Célian, Lily, such a handsome couple.” He tapped my back in a fatherly way and proceeded to hug Lily and kiss both her cheeks. She winced in his arms, struggling for a steady breath, and took a step back.
“Mr. Laurent.”
“Please, call me Matt,” he chuckled, spraying his fake-ass smile around everyone like a skunk’s fart.
“Yes. After all, you do know him rather well.” I glanced at my Rolex, then resumed my efforts searching for Jude. I was sure Lily noticed, but couldn’t find it in me to care. Her throat bobbed, and she turned crimson next to me.
“This is Chardonnay.” Dad introduced us to his date.
I smiled coldly. “Hello. How’s spring break treating you, Chardonnay?”
“Célian!” Lily and Mathias scowled in unison.
“I’m sorry, that was impolite of me. Spring break is over, right? Finals are probably killing you. Let me guess, you’re in cheer? Love Harry Styles? Think 13 Reasons Why is an adaptation of the bible?”
There was more sulking and complaining, but everything muted into the background the minute I spotted her among the sea of puffy black and white dresses and big hairdos. Wearing a knee-length, powder blue dress and that inconspicuous expression that seemed to speak the secret language of my dick, she looked like Cinderella after a good fuck, her butterscotch hair twisted up with stray locks ribboning down her neck and cheeks.
My mouth had curved with a satisfied smirk at how beautiful and elegant she looked, yet so unassuming, her beauty humble and clean, when my eyes traveled to the person she was talking to.
Phoenix Townley.
I knew he was back in the States. His time in Syria and Israel had made him tanner, seemingly taller, and more lean and muscular. He carried himself with even more confidence than before. He said he’d come back to spend some time with his family, but as far as I was concerned, it was a great excuse for him to take a part-time job at LBC and spend the rest of the time reminding me I had a hole in my heart the size of his fist. Phoenix wore a blue tux (douchebag), and whatever he said to Judith, she found funny, because she shoved his chest playfully, as if he was misbehaving.
Lily was telling me something in the background, but unless it was warning me that the place was on fire, I couldn’t have cared less. I knew I had no right to barge into Jude and Phoenix’s conversation and make a scene. To show up with my fiancée in tow and claim someone else’s time would be an especially douchey move, even by my very low standards.
“Champagne?” One of the servers slid a tray in our direction. Lily took two and handed me one, gluing her side-tit to my arm.
“I think they make a good couple.” She followed my line of vision.
I ignored her, throwing back the champagne like a shot, and walked over to Kate, disposing of the glass on a table on my way. Lily followed me, like a hot-piss stench at Times Square station. Kate, who had her back to me, turned around with a smile. I hugged her and her wife, Delilah. Kate’s rubicund hair was spiky, and her dress seemed extra black, somehow. She offered Lily a frosty look, which the latter didn’t even bother to return.
“Me Too, huh?” She rolled her eyes.
Kate was by far one of the most outspoken feminists I knew. This entire evening was a big fuck-you from my father to everyone around him.
I crooked an eyebrow. “I don’t make the rules. I just follow them. For now.”
We’d spent ten minutes talking about work, with Lily clinging to my arm like the floor would otherwise swallow her whole, when Kate puffed on a celery stick and said, “And where’s Mathias, Célian?”
“Why would I care where my fa—” I started, my eyes already darting to the spot where they’d last seen Jude, and found him talking to her, his hand on her lower back.
On.
Her.
Fucking.
Back.
You’ve been warned, Papa. And you have failed.
A heavy rock churned inside my stomach. My fists curled beside my body while I sliced through the crowd, galloping toward them without even distinguishing what was going on around me. I wasn’t thinking straight, and I was about to yank him away from her by the back of his collar and plant a fist in his face.
The only thing that stopped me as I got there was realizing that was exactly what he wanted—me losing control over a woman who wasn’t Lily in order to create a scene. So I joined them, my smile oh-so-polite as I grabbed the cigar my father was puffing all over her face and nonchalantly dropped it into a half-full glass of champagne.
“Mind if I butt in?”
“I do, actually,” Mathias said, his eyes raking over Lily, who finally stood a few feet away, knowing better than to join us. She stayed the hell away from my father whenever possible after what happened. She knew acknowledging his existence was playing with the kind of fire that could burn down forests and incinerate our prestigious engagement.
“Well, life’s tough. Better get used to it. How are you doing tonight, Humphry?”
“Great.” She gave me a panicky, what-the-hell-are-you-doing look, cradling her champagne.
Mathias stared at me like he was about to do something he was going to regret, so I entered his personal space with two fluid steps, whispering in his ear, “I could blow up your entire party by telling them you shoved your cock in my fiancée’s mouth while she was in a very compromising position, filling in as your temporary secretary because you had to fire your old one, who’d fucked you long enough to expect more than the average New York salary. But I won’t have to do that tonight, will I, Father? You will step back and get the hell away from Judith Humphry like I asked you to. Because the next time I have to remind you to stay away, I won’t be nice, and she won’t be annoyed. She’ll be scared. For your life.”
I took a step back and watched the color drain from his face. For a second, I thought he was going to have another heart attack. Then he tipped his head goodbye to Judith and scurried away, looking like a ghost of himself. We both watched him join his date. I knew that if I took my time, Lily would approach us, now that Mathias was gone.
“He’s trying to hit on you,” I told Jude, too pissed to look her in the eye without snapping further.
“That’s his business, not yours,” she said evenly, placing her delicate glass of champagne on a table behind her. The spring air was crisp and chilly, and her whole body blossomed into goosebumps under that dress.
“Stop playing nice with him.”
“No, you stop butting into my relationships with other people, Célian. You have no right.”
I suppose it wasn’t a good time to tell her that Phoenix Townley—who’d wandered out on the terrace mere minutes ago, probably to snort a line—was a douchebag who got sent away to the Middle East after he was caught shooting heroin with a crackwhore in his Chelsea apartment.
The last and only other time we’d been in this hotel together, Chucks and I were on much friendlier terms. Frankly, I was fed up with this entire bullshit situation where all we did was fight. We were on the same page. Both our lives were hot messes. And we could make each other forget. I brushed my arm against her shoulder while we people-watched the fancy guests, our colleagues laughing, dancing, and drinking away their long working week.