Hold Fast - Part Nineteen
This episode is part of a larger story, Soft Touch. If you haven’t yet, you can go back and read it from the beginning right here.
“Is it bad that I already don’t feel fancy enough for this party?” I ask nervously, straightening out my dress shirt again.
It’s the only one I have, which I was embarrassed about until I realized that Aiden and Ralph also recycled their outfits from Noah, Raj, and Mel’s wedding. We all forgot to bother with suit jackets again, although Ralph had the unintentionally excellent idea to wear his brown leather jacket over his dress clothes. The combination looks much sharper than I think he realizes.
“You don’t feel fancy enough?” He shoots me a despairing look. “Christ. How the fuck do you think I feel?”
“You look really nice, dude!” I tell him encouragingly, and instantly receive a smoldering glare in response.
“Hey, at least we’re not lost anymore,” Aiden points out, giving Ralph’s shoulder a bracing slap.
We drove a long way to get here, and then did a bit of confused circling around, expecting to find a hotel where Francesco was staying with Maggie, or that he’d rented for the party.
As it turns out, he bought a house. A villa.
We know this only because the Seven Arms man who let us in through the intricate gate at the entrance told us so. We haven’t seen it for ourselves yet. We’re walking slowly up a gently-curved, softly-lit avenue, through what must be some significant landscaping. I’m breathing in the fragrant natural perfume of the plants, hearing the sigh of the leaves rustling around us in the autumn breeze, but it’s hard to see anything clearly beyond the path. The dusky evening darkness only reveals the greenery in the small glowing haloes cast by the path lights.
There’s enough room on the path for us to walk side by side. It’s just the three of us tonight. I texted Robin to see if she and Faith were planning to come, and got back an automated response informing me that Captain Cole is not available for new contracts at the moment, as she’s on vacation, but that I can email her and she’ll see to it when she gets back.
Sounds to me like she and Faith are taking some time just to be together, to relax and breathe after everything that’s happened. Knowing what a worker bee Faith is, I’m guessing Robin insisted, and I’m glad to hear she did.
Ralph doesn’t want Ripley getting tangled up in his work, so he didn’t come with us tonight either. Calla wasn’t invited for the same reason she wasn’t present at the harbor meeting. Ralph doesn’t want people in the business knowing about her, at least not on this scale.
So now it’s just me, Aiden, and Ralph, and I think all three of us are feeling suddenly, deeply intimidated by the prospect of this party. Ralph said the other guests would probably be well-connected people in or out of the business who Francesco needs to introduce to Maggie, highly-placed people in the Seven Arms who also need to meet her, and personal friends of Francesco and the Caterina family.
The faint, collective sound of all those fancy people is starting to reach us. We can hear voices, laughing, talking.
“I can’t believe I’m walking headfirst into this,” Ralph sighs, stuffing his fists deep into the pockets of his jacket. “This criminally stupid plan is all your fault, Keane.”
“My fault, excuse me! Don’t you want peace with Francesco? Then you can’t skip the – the peace feast!”
“Say what you want, I know how this shit ends. With me saying I told you it was a trap.”
I shake my head at Ralph, trying not to smile. It’s true that as soon as Francesco and Ralph start talking it feels like the two of them have stepped into the ring with each other, but I don’t think –
Aiden stops so suddenly that I nearly walk into him.
“Oh,” he murmurs.
I silently put my fingertips to my mouth, gazing up at the villa that just fell into view from behind the shadowy trees.
It’s an old, grand house, rising up from the darkness with aged grace, glowingly illuminated in hues of warm gold against the nighttime blackness. The impression that strikes me is of a boat of light, floating on the dark. Airy and beautiful.
Marble, old brick, old wood with rich paint, plants encircling it and growing affectionately up its walls. The people drifting up the sweeping, curved stone steps to the doors add their effect with their glittering clothing, their laughter. Flowers in shades of fire and mango dance softly in the breeze along the steps.
It’s an enchanting sight, the picture of subtle, stately beauty.
“Wow.” I dart a wide-eyed glance at Ralph. “The Caterinas really have an eye for treasure.”
“Now that I won’t argue with,” he murmurs back.
My eyes blink up to an ivy-draped terrace on the highest floor of the villa. A shadowy figure is standing there, watching the crowd filtering in. He smiles when he catches sight of us.
With a glimmer of the light on his jeweled rings, he draws back from the carved stone railing and slips into the shadows. I watch him disappear into the house, then drop my gaze to Ralph, realizing he’s talking to me.
“What?”
“I said it’s not too late for us to just leave?” he repeats, making hopeful eyes at me.
“Fuck no, no way.” Aiden gives Ralph a firm shove in the direction of the doors. “We drove all the way here, I’m at least eating some rich people food before we go home.”
Ralph shoots him an indignant scowl over his shoulder. “You’re ready to potentially cost me my life just to taste some rich people food? I already told you it’s just flavored little pieces of air.”
“Yeah, yeah. You don’t think Francesco’s gonna do anything to you, or you wouldn’t have agreed to come. You sure as hell wouldn’t have brought us.”
“Well, he must have something planned,” Ralph grumbles. “Otherwise why the hell am I here?”
“Um. Okay.” I shake my head at Ralph, the fond laughter I’m holding back undoubtedly revealing itself in my eyes. “So the idea that inviting you to this party may have been a gesture of trust on Francesco’s part – kind of an enormous one, too – just hasn’t occurred to you even as a possibility, has it?”
Ralph stares at me over his shoulder, baffled, then quickly looks forward again as another suited Seven Arms man stops in front of us. Ralph holds up our invitation, but the man waves it aside.
“Boss said to escort you in.”
Ralph lets out a soft sigh of resignation under his breath. Tucking the invitation back into his jacket, he sets off after our escort, who leads us straight past the person checking invitations and in through the grand wooden doors.
I’m briefly distracted by the man leading us in, because seriously, where does Francesco find these guys? Is there a hunk training camp? A real one? Is it out there somewhere? If so, Francesco must be an investor, and maybe they send him a new hunk every month as thanks, or something.
Apparently he likes himself a wide variety. The Seven Arms man who met us at the gate was all ruddy cheeks and rugged build and sweet Texan charm. This one leading us into the party has a soft Greek accent, waves of ink-black hair that almost meet his brow, a dusky complexion, and eyes like deep blue pottery glaze, straight from the kiln.
“Francesco has a collection,” I whisper to Aiden, who flashes me a look that says he was thinking the same thing.
My eyes lift to take in the house as we’re led through. It feels like one endless sweep of glimmering beauty. Crystal light fixtures cast sparkles across the walls, making the elaborate gilt frames of paintings glow. My eyes glide over pine and oak accents, rich fabric hangings of silk and velvet, antique pieces of furniture. The flower arrangements placed around are huge and beautiful, with Turkish roses that are mirrored in the chairs, table legs, the molding on the ceilings, all of which are carved in sophisticated replications of nature, leaves, blossoms, fruit, fish, birds…
“Wow,” I stammer softly, then draw in a sharp breath as we step through two doors, flung wide open to the breezy night.
Down a flight of stone steps, a spacious open-air courtyard stretches out before us. It’s framed on three sides with aged stone loggias, where other doors to the house have also been left open. Doors have been left open on terraces on the second and third floors, too, ones which overlook the courtyard. Directly across from us, the courtyard has been left open to the grounds, which stretch off in the light a little ways before disappearing into the shadows.
A long reflecting pool sweeps down the center of the courtyard, its surface slowly dancing with the glow of the colorful lanterns strung up around it. It ends in a graceful half-moon pool, where a grand fountain is splashing.
This must be the party. The courtyard is full of people in sparkling dresses and sleek suits, dancing and talking, embracing old friends or associates, sampling things from the pretty food displays and frosted champagne buckets. Cigars are being tapped into vintage hanging ashtrays, and music is rising up from a band placed on a lifted stage by the fountain. For some reason I’d assumed there’d be a string quartet or something, but it’s a big, bluesy band with three backup singers, playing soulful music. The lead singer at the front sways slowly in her deep blue dress, covering Etta James’ Take It to the Limit so expertly that her voice gives me goosebumps.
I guess that checks out. Francesco told us his greatest weakness is a rich, powerful voice. Whatever Ralph says about never being able to tell what Francesco’s really thinking, I’ve picked that one out as a certain truth. I saw the way his pupils dilated when he heard Aiden speak.
The combination of the music and the view strikes all three of us dumb for a minute. We just stand there looking and listening, until, right as the song reaches its height, the crowd suddenly shifts to let Francesco step out in front of us at the bottom of the courtyard steps.
He’s wearing a beautiful black velvet dress, one which spreads down to the floor in shimmering folds. He has a handful of the skirt swept up in one fist, either to make it easier to walk or to reveal a peek of the silky garter strap beneath. And, yes… there they are. The stilettos, sleek and glittering black.
He smiles up at Ralph, languidly batting his long lashes.
The bodyguard standing with us lets out a soft, longing sigh.
Francesco gracefully ascends the steps to join us, the party lights glimmering on the gold coin with the emerald hanging from his neck. He dismisses the Seven Arms man with the beautiful Mediterranean blue eyes by softly pinching his cheek. The man glows like God just touched down to tell him he’s his favorite, then moves to stand protectively behind Francesco’s shoulder.
“Warlord,” Francesco purrs in his hoarse, rasping voice, extending him a heavily-ringed hand. “Don’t you look… handsome? What a charming surprise to see you… I had feared… you wouldn’t come.”
Ralph once again sort of awkwardly grasps Francesco’s hand and shakes it, giving him a very brief nod. Francesco takes his hand back, then runs it over his expertly-groomed beard, quite clearly disguising a smile.
“I didn’t think I would, either,” Ralph growls, stuffing his fists back in the pockets of his jacket.
“But you did.” Francesco gazes right into his eyes, still smiling. “Surrendered without a fight, Warlord? How… unlike you.”
“No, there was a fight,” Aiden says firmly. “Could’ve used your help getting him here, actually.”
Francesco breathes out a little laugh, still looking at Ralph. “My dearest Ralph… you should know by now that against the Caterinas, resistance is… futile. All succumb in the end, so why… fight at all?”
“You can expect a fight every time,” Ralph tells him flatly, a statement that only makes Francesco smile wider.
“So long as there’s always a next time,” he purrs.
He turns his emerald eyes on me and Aiden, then draws in an audible breath.
“James,” he rasps, clasping my hand just a little longer than he needs to, trailing his thumb over my fingers. “How fares the… flower shop? Blossoming?”
I blink in blushing confusion, then realize abruptly that anything we told Maggie has probably made it back to Francesco by now.
“Oh! Yeah, the – the shop is great. Thank you for asking, and for inviting us. Your new house is stunning!”
“Thank you… it was quite a task to get it in order this quickly. To my mind the place is still… missing some color.” Francesco settles his hand back on his carved wooden cane, his eyes flitting up to my hair. “How gracious of you, to provide it so… beautifully. How very red it is… didn’t I tell you, Constantine?”
He directs this to the bodyguard behind him, who shoots me a swift, dark glare. “Yes. You did.”
Aiden, who was just starting to assume a similar expression, blinks as Francesco turns his emerald eyes on him.
“Aiden…” he sighs rapturously, as if there’s just too much to say. “Look at you.”
Aiden gives him a nervous smile. “Thanks for having us. That’s a nice, um – dress that you’re wearing-”
He pauses, because Francesco appears to not be listening to what he’s saying, so much as listening to his voice with dilated eyes again.
“My pleasure,” he rasps softly, smiling up at Aiden. “There’s… no need to thank me for anything. You’ve done me a great… service, and now you do me another, by letting me find some way to… repay you. After all, you helped bring Margarida back to me.”
“How has it been, so far?” I ask, breaking into a grin. “Living with her?”
“Oh!” Francesco lets out a despairing sigh, flicking his jeweled fingers. “She’s impossibly headstrong and willful. It’s been a long time since anyone has… tried to boss me around. She’s very impertinent, with a fiery temper, and quite unaware of it, no matter… how many times you tell her. The child runs through my house like a tropical storm. And she’s already… got all of my men wrapped around her little finger. They’re already… helping her get away with things.”
He says it with this look in his eyes like: I adore her.
I’m about to ask him how Maggie seems to be finding her new life, but before I can -
“Jamie, Aiden! Ralph!”
She breaks out of the crowd and rushes up the stairs towards us, beaming and bright-eyed, her dress caught up in her hands. Dameon is running after her, panting, his usually pristine suit somewhat rumpled. He stops a few feet behind Maggie and puts his hands on his hips, trying to get his breath back as she dashes up to us and clasps my hands, then Aiden’s.
“Oh, I’m so happy you’re here!” she laughs breathlessly.
We all just stare at her, taken aback. Just like Robin after we got back Faith, Maggie has gone through an undeniable transformation.
Her dark brown hair falls in shining waves around her shoulders, her emerald eyes glowing with warmth, her cheeks bright and rosy. She looks completely at ease in all this luxury. She’s wearing luxury, in the form of a breathtaking dress. Much more modestly cut than Francesco’s, but it makes her the clear star of the show regardless. The entire thing seems to be made out of little drops of silver, all of which sparkle and dance in the colorful lights with every movement she makes. Graceful silver leaves have been pinned into her hair, too.
The gold of her necklace is reflected on the silver droplets of the dress around it, making the pendant stand out beautifully. The coin with the Caterina emerald, haloed in soft shades of reflected gold.
But really her face outshines it all, radiating bright happiness the way it is.
Francesco smiles at her with an obvious glow of warm fondness in his eyes. What surprises me is that Constantine looks at Maggie in almost the exact same way, and so does Dameon, although he seems very ready for her to stop running around.
“Look at this!” she commands us, sweeping an arm out at the party. “Isn’t it beautiful? My uncle has very good taste, yes? And look!” She holds out her hand to show us the glimmering bracelets around her wrist. “He gave me a box of my mom’s old things!”
She reverently smooths her fingers down her dress, which makes me think that it came from the box, too. Francesco watches her, a complicated expression flickering through his emerald eyes. Half-sad, half-smiling.
“Aw, Maggie, it’s great to see you so happy!” I return the squeeze she gave my hands, my smile widening. “God, this is a lot of people you have to be introduced to in one night, isn’t it?”
“Ah, yes, but I like it! It’s nice to meet so many people! And only very few of them are fools.”
A tremor of silent laughter shakes Francesco, who quickly runs a hand over his beard to hide it.
“You look right at home!” I tell Maggie, suppressing a laugh of my own.
“Yes, it is a very nice house!” She gazes around at the gorgeous building with pleased, approving eyes. “There are still a few things we must change. The rug in the dining room has to be taken away and replaced with a Bokhara.”
Francesco arches an amused eyebrow. “I don’t recall us discussing that, Margarida.”
“Oh, but it must!” she tells him decisively, then turns back to us without missing a beat. “Did Ralph tell you? My real father was a warrior, a handsome warrior! My uncle showed me a picture, and pictures of my mother, too. I almost forgot what she…”
Maggie trails off, then shakes her head, bestowing a warm look of gratitude on me, Ralph, and Aiden.
“Thank you for getting me away from that man! If I had known what he did I would have killed him! But he lied to me, and I was too little to know…” She looks furious for a second, but immediately brightens. “Uncle Francesco promised he will never lie to me.”
Ralph looks at Francesco in surprise. Francesco blinks fast a few times, but otherwise gives no hint that Maggie shared something full of real sentiment, something that wouldn’t normally be announced to competitors in their violent field of work.
“So, you must come and enjoy the party!” Maggie beams eagerly up at us. “It is how we’ll thank you!”
“Okay,” Aiden laughs. “We will.”
Maggie nods, turns to go back down the steps, and pauses. “Is Kaden coming? Do you know?”
“I think so,” I answer hopefully.
I mean. He didn’t give me a definitive answer when I texted him about it just this morning, so… I don’t know for sure. But I really do think he will, and I refuse to give up hope.
Maggie nods again, then darts off back down the stairs to rejoin her party. Francesco leans over to quietly say something to Ralph, folds his ringed fingers around his arm, and draws him down the stairs after Maggie.
“He’s very handsome, isn’t he?” I say sympathetically to Constantine, who’s watching Francesco go with open longing in his stunning blue eyes.
“Oh, yes,” he agrees fervently, without breaking his gaze away. “I hope I die protecting him.”
I flash Constantine a startled look, open my mouth to laugh, and realize he’s dead serious. As if to confirm it, he draws a cross out from the collar of his shirt and kisses it, sending that prayer home.
“I, um – okay,” I manage, then rush off after Aiden down the steps.
“You alright, Keane?” he laughs softly, folding an arm around my shoulders.
“Yes,” I whisper in his ear, “But seriously, what is Francesco doing to these guys-?”
“James,” Francesco purrs, lacing his fingers through mine before I know what’s happening. “Would you… grace me with a dance?”
I stare at him in surprise for a second, then glance uncertainly at Aiden. There’s a muscle sharply flexed in his jaw all of a sudden, but he doesn’t say anything, so I… guess it’s fine? It’s just a dance, and it might be rude to turn down a request like that from the host.
“Sure, yeah! Let’s do it.”
Aiden and Ralph watch Francesco lead me to where couples are slow dancing by the illuminated fountain. He hands his cane off to Constantine, then sweeps me into his arms. Leading, thank god. I don’t particularly know what I’m doing, but Francesco is an excellent dancer, confident and relaxed enough to make me feel like I am, too. His dress swirls around my legs, yet never seems to tangle me up.
“Thank you for leading.” I let out a sheepish laugh. “I’m a little out of my depth. I’ve never slow danced with someone in a dress before. Except maybe my mom once?”
“True of a lot of the men in my circles,” Francesco answers smoothly, startling a laugh out of me. He smiles at me through his long lashes, resting his hand on the small of my back. “What a gentle laugh you have… so adorable. Sometimes nature paints with pure sweetness on the brush. One of those times… was when it made you.”
I blush before I can stop myself, completely at a loss for what to say to that.
“I can easily see… what Aiden sees,” Francesco goes on, with that playful purr in his voice. “Not that doing so requires… exceptionally perceptive eyes. Like yours.”
I recover enough to let out a nervous laugh, shaking my head at him. “Oh, please don’t, you – you really shouldn’t!”
This gets an innocent smile from Francesco. “Shouldn’t what?”
“Put your way too powerful flirting talents to work on me!” I make a reproachful scolding sound at him, still laughing a little. “You know very well that I’m taken.”
“Yes, and I have no intention of… attempting to interfere. Even if I would do such a thing… I know when I’m outmatched… and I do so hate to lose.”
I blink at him, confused. “Outmatched?”
“It’s clear to me that Aiden has your whole heart, and that you… have his.” Francesco flashes me another little smile. “I can see why, in both cases. He is gorgeous, isn’t he? Strikingly so, even by the highest of standards. It’s… quite disarming.”
I let out a weak laugh. “Okay, right? Exactly. Thank you. It’s too much, sometimes.”
“Yes, I imagine so.”
“Nice to talk to someone who understands. Sounds like you do completely.”
“I’d like to have his portrait painted,” Francesco answers very seriously, then smiles when I laugh again. “One might say I’m… devoted to all things beautiful.”
I blush again, catching the flicker of playful seduction in his eyes as he says it, gazing right into mine. I shake my head at him again, breaking my gaze away.
“Well, intentions aside, you really shouldn’t flirt with me. You’re gonna make Aiden jealous.”
Francesco leads me in a slow turn around the splashing fountain, so that its dappled light briefly dances over us. “I suppose… it’s too much to hope I might… make the Warlord jealous?”
I look up at him in surprise. “Is that the real goal?”
“I have many goals. A dance with you was one of them, for tonight. I’d hoped that perhaps you might let me ask… oh, just one or two questions about our dear Warlord? I’m sure those perceptive eyes of yours… see quite far.”
I return his smile, but firmly shake my head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t say anything to you about Ralph. And I mean anything, because I’m a really bad liar, so it’s best to just not speak at all. Something he’s told me forcefully, many times over.”
Francesco lets out a hissing little laugh.
“I hoped you wouldn’t give in on my first attempt,” he rasps, using his hand on my back to gently guide me in a turn. “It would be troubling… to discover that the Warlord’s friends were flighty, or foolish.”
“I can tell you that it makes me happy to see Maggie so happy,” I offer instead.
“I feel the same way, but I’ll confess to a sensation of…” Francesco, who had glanced over at Ralph, meets my eyes with his emerald ones. “Holding my breath. Waiting for something to happen. To receive such a gesture from the Warlord… with no request at the other end… that sounds… too good to be true. Much as I do adore how hard it is to know what our dear friend is thinking… this particular case involves my niece. Surely you can see why I hoped you might answer me one or two harmless little questions. The situation is quite… unprecedented.”
“Is it really? That much?”
“For anyone in this business… to freely give up such a treasure to me without expectation of some kind of reward, or in service of a trap? Yes, my dear. It is.”
“Well, Ralph doesn’t want anything, except the peace between you two.” I give Francesco an apologetic smile. “That’s the only question I should answer, though. I’m sorry.”
Francesco stares at me intently for a moment, thinking. A breeze rolls in off of the grounds, stirring his hair, making all the reflected lights dance in the deep green pools of his eyes. The light wind makes the fountain’s waters shiver and waver before springing back to their natural arcs. More people spill out onto the graceful steps leading out to the courtyard, drawing my eye to the glowing warmth of the house beyond the open doors.
“This is such a beautiful place,” I sigh appreciatively. “You’ve really brought out its best. I’m glad to see it in the hands of someone who understands how to do that.”
“Yes, I consider myself something of a conservationist, in certain ways…” Francesco murmurs, distracted.
He lifts his eyes to meet mine again.
“I do appreciate your discretion about the Warlord, James,” he says carefully, “And although I understand it, I must tell you… I won’t say that I’m harmless… you already know better-” This with a quick, wicked smile. “But I will say, truthfully, that I… mean him… no harm.”
I tilt my head to the side. “Oh, yeah, I know! I can tell that you don’t, or I wouldn’t dance with you.”
Francesco blinks in surprise. He hesitates, opens his mouth to ask me something, then looks up as Aiden taps his shoulder. His blue eyes are blazing, on fire with barely-contained jealousy as they level on Francesco’s face.
His voice comes out as a deep, simmering growl. “Mind if I cut in?”
“Oh, certainly,” Francesco purrs, but instead of handing me off to Aiden, he takes Aiden’s hand himself.
Aiden flashes me a startled look. That’s all he has time to do before Francesco has drawn him in, settled himself comfortably in Aiden’s muscled arms. He gives Aiden a sultry smile as they dance away, saying something to him that makes him blush.
I fall back near one of the food tables, glancing around for Ralph. He’s already hurrying over to meet me, looking deeply uncomfortable.
“Don’t you two leave me alone at this fuckin’ thing!” he protests, catching my arm and dragging me back to him. “You know how goddamn out of my element I am? Everyone you talk to is either rich or gay! And you know how I feel about rich people.”
“What, except Francesco?”
“It’s not the same, dude, Francesco isn’t one of those-” Ralph cuts himself off in exasperation. “The fuck am I saying? No, not except Francesco, Francesco, too! And I’m not talking to any of them, so-”
“So talk to the gays!” I tell him encouragingly.
He spreads his hands, widening his grey-green eyes at me. “Isn’t that what I’m doing right now?”
“I mean besides me!” I gesture to the bar set up to one side of the fountain, where a cluster of three twinky-looking guys are chatting and waiting for their drinks. Francesco’s friends, if I had to guess. “Just go talk to them.”
Ralph gives me an agonized look. “About what?”
“What do you-?” A little burst of laughter escapes me before I can bite it back. “Jesus, dude, there’s no special thing you have to talk about! Just talk to them like you’d talk to any guys at a party. However you’d normally start a conversation.”
Ralph winces uneasily, his expression indicating that he’s sure this advice isn’t solid. But he takes a huge sip of his drink, winces again, then drifts awkwardly over towards the little group at the bar. A few heads turn to look at him, and a flirty voice calls out:
“Hey, blondie!”
“Hey,” Ralph begins uncomfortably. “Anyone watch the game last weekend? Know it’s early in the season, but I’d say it’s gonna be a close call on the Heisman this year. Might come down to who runs the better campaign.”
Three blank faces look back at him.
Oh, Jesus. Somehow I sent him in less prepared than I thought. I step forward, intending to rush over and save him, then stop where I am as one of the guys laughs, breaking into a wide grin. He catches Ralph’s wrist and draws him closer to the bar.
“God, you’re adorable!” he says, delighted. “Who are you? And what the hell are you talking about?”
I turn away, suppressing a laugh, then let out a gasp of indignation when I see how close Aiden and Francesco are dancing. I may have done the same exact thing, but still. Wild jealousy rushes up in me as the two of them drift to a stop with the end of the song. It makes my cheeks burn, my pulse race.
Before I can do anything about it, Francesco comes over and gently touches my cheek, directing a sultry smile at me through his lashes.
“Thank you for letting me… borrow him, James. What a shame that’s all I can do with either of you. It’s hard to say who’s a more… enchanting partner.”
With that Francesco leaves us, pulled aside by someone looking to speak to him. Aiden and I exchange a blushing, abashed glance, then simultaneously dissolve into helpless laughter.
“Oh, god,” Aiden groans, dropping onto a beautiful stone bench, pulling me down with him. “He’s working us over, just like he does with his bodyguards. And we know it, and it’s still working.”
“We’re weak,” I laugh, curling up against him.
“No, he is strong,” Aiden says firmly. “Was he asking you stuff about Ralph?”
“Yes, but you would’ve been proud of me, he only tricked me into answering one question. Was he asking you about Ralph, too?”
“Mhm.” Aiden watches Francesco thoughtfully. “What does he want with him, do you think?”
“Mmm… I have my theory,” I answer, to a soft huff of laughter from Aiden.
“Of course you do.” He gets up, pulls me to my feet, and keeps hold of my hand. “Let’s go get something to drink. I’m sure there’s nonalcoholic options.”
“Hey, about that – are you gonna be okay?” I ask anxiously, following him through the glittering crowd. “There’s a lot of booze around.”
“I’ll be just fine. If you see me looking tipsy don’t worry about it.”
“What?” I blink hard at him. “What does that mean?”
“Just… sometimes when you’re drunk, listening to your cute lil’ note skipping around makes me feel a little drunk, too.” He gives me a smile over his shoulder, instantly making my heart stumble. “And you already sound real happy, so that’s affecting me, too.”
I am really happy. It feels so good to see Maggie’s new home and know that it fits her just right. The new house fits her just right, too. It’s easy to pick her out from the crowd in her shimmering dress, and every time I glance at her she’s beaming.
It’s also nice to be someplace so very beautiful. I don’t normally go in for fancy things, but all the luxurious touches aren’t here to simply look expensive. They quietly come together to create a picture that’s a treat for the eyes, something you just want to look at and breathe in. It’s very different from the White Diamond Hotel, or any of the other glitzy expensive places we’ve briefly visited.
The gorgeous curtains in the softly-lit windows. The dancing lights on the reflecting pool, dotted with its water lilies. The nearby trees, the sound of their rustling leaves reaching us between songs from the band. The fragrant breeze blowing in off of the grounds, which makes me think there’s a well-tended fruit garden somewhere nearby.
It’s a complete sensory experience, and it’s lovely. It seems to seep into me, into Aiden, into everyone present, infusing everything with its glow. I’m inhaling it deeply with every breath, the gentle brilliance of this atmosphere.
It’s unsurprising to me that Francesco and Maggie are the ones who put this place together. It gives me high hopes for the bakery, which makes my already glowing heart glow a little brighter.
I’m also just ready to have some fun. It’s a party, after all.
We stop at the bar, where Aiden notices Ralph surrounded by twinks and shoots me a glance so completely bewildered that it makes me slump against the bar top, desperately fighting back a laugh.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asks.
I open my mouth to order my usual, then find myself blinking up at the glittering array of colorful bottles, wondering if I shouldn’t expand my horizons. I don’t even know what half of these are.
“Jamie! Are you trying to decide what to drink?” Maggie stops beside me, breathlessly tossing her hair out of her face. “It depends on what you’re eating, of course. Did you try the chocolates? You should have a chilled Green Chartreuse with those. I’ll have one, too.”
The bartender gives her a nice try smile, then slides a frosty lemonade across the bar. “Your uncle said you can have one glass of champagne, and I’d say keep it in reserve for when the party whips up.”
Maggie pouts at him, accepting the lemonade. “I will trick you later. D'une façon ou d'une autre.”
“Well, now you’ve warned me, so I’ll be watching out for your tricks.”
“That won’t matter,” Maggie says breezily, to a startled laugh from the bartender.
Dameon catches up, panting hard, then leans over Maggie from behind to glare indignantly down into her face. “Always doing too much! Do you have to run everywhere?”
She beams up at him. “Yes! I’m excited!”
Dameon’s exasperated expression falters and collapses remarkably fast. He straightens up and leans against the bar, then blinks in surprise when Maggie tells the bartender –
“Dameon needs a lemon ice, too. He is running after me all night, poor thing.” She turns her glowing smile back on him. “Will that help, Dameon? I really am very sorry to be so much trouble.”
Dameon opens his mouth, then closes it, his lip twitching as he holds down a fond smile.
“Just like your uncle,” he growls reprovingly. “Always getting away with everything.”
Maggie turns to me, giggling softly, and whispers – “It is like having so many dads. So many. There is one in any room of the house you walk into. Sometimes there are a few.”
I let out a laugh, and Maggie grins at me, then turns around with her lemonade. She smiles when she spots Francesco working his way through the crowd towards us. He’s leading an impeccably dressed young man about Maggie’s age, handsome and expensively attired, holding himself in a very formal manner.
“There you are,” Francesco says, as Maggie comes over to meet them. “Did I tell you we have… an heir apparent at your party?”
“No?” Maggie says, sipping on her lemonade and looking curiously at the young man, who’s staring back at her with wide, admiring eyes.
Francesco places a hand on his shoulder, gesturing to Maggie with the other. “Margarida, it’s my pleasure and honor to introduce you to the Prince of-”
“Oh!” Maggie breaks in, letting out a gasp of delight.
She’s gazing across the party, where another new arrival was just escorted out onto the stairs. Someone who, like us, looks a little uncertain of himself in all this luxury.
“Kaden is here!” Beaming radiantly, Maggie shoves her lemonade into the prince’s hands and gathers up her dress. “Kaden!”
She goes rushing off around the reflecting pool towards him, calling out for him. Kaden looks up in surprise, then freezes when he sees her streaking through the crowd towards him like a little silver comet, her dress sparkling in the colorful lights. She really is like a pure force of nature, like Francesco said. Her hair is coming loose from the silver leaf pins holding some of it back, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed from all of this activity. The reflection of her dress in the pool leaves a glittering trail behind her.
Kaden just stares at her, his mouth slightly open.
The prince stares after her, too, deeply startled. It’s very clear that he’s not used to this kind of treatment, and he seems suddenly not sure what to do with himself.
Francesco blinks hard, for the first time visibly alarmed. He tries for one of his easy laughs, touching a hand to his chest. “Why, Your Highness, I – I must beg your forgiveness… my little niece is, ah – new to-”
He stops in surprise as the prince wordlessly sets off after Maggie, staring at her with huge, smitten eyes, still holding her lemonade. Looking very much like an adoring puppy who knows he’s not supposed to be following his owner around, but can’t help it.
“Oh my god,” Aiden whispers in my ear. “It runs in the family.”
I lace my fingers over my mouth, fighting back a laugh.
Francesco watches the prince go, then lets out a laugh so genuine that I think he didn’t mean for it, or maybe even realize he let it out. His fond gaze lingers on Maggie as she reaches Kaden and puts her arms around his waist, laughing, eagerly saying something to him.
A flame of deep tenderness rises up in Francesco’s emerald eyes, there and then quickly hidden away again.
He turns to face us, then lets out a sharp, startled version of his hissing laugh when he catches a glimpse of Ralph, who’s engaged in trying to extract himself from the now very enthusiastic group at the bar. He hurries back over to us, flustered and deeply bewildered, his blonde hair rumpled up.
“Your advice worked too well!” he growls exasperatedly in my ear.
“I’m – sorry? I guess?”
“Alright, new rule,” Ralph says firmly, casting his flashing sage eyes around at me, Aiden, and Francesco. “No one leaves me alone at this thing. I’m only talking to people I know.”
“Then come with me, Warlord,” Francesco purrs, folding his ringed fingers around Ralph’s elbow. “It’s too long since we had time to speak… one on one. And I’m sure you’re… famished, after the journey here. Let’s see if we can’t find something that… tempts you… shall we?”
“Yeah, fine,” Ralph says distractedly, still trying to straighten out his hair as he moves over to stand beside Francesco. “Let’s go.”
Francesco stares at him in surprise for a second. His eyes brighten perceptibly as he falls into step beside Ralph.
It’s funny to me how Ralph can never tell when Francesco means what he says, or means the smile on his face.
I can tell. Maybe only a little, maybe only sometimes, but I can tell.
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