AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Ahem. We have a few minutes until the rest of the crew arrives. Everything should already be set up upstairs. Do I need to go over your role again?”
“No. I’ll play hostess, make sure Mr. and Mrs. “Cormorant” are comfortable, that they have anything they need. You’ll be directing the performers backstage most of the time, so it’s up to me to make sure the servers keep their drinks full and deliver any other… libations they might want.”
“Excellent. Remember, you are the matron of this party, so to speak. Everyone reports to you in the front of the house, so act like it. Don’t hesitate. Make them feel wanted. Make them need to be there.”
“Yeah, yeah. And stay calm, exude refinement, yada-yada. I know. I’ll have class out the ass, I promise.” I am starting to love messing with him about this classy stuff. He’s a stickler for things appearing fancy, so any chance I get to cut him off at the knees, I go for it.
Only when we’re in private, of course.
I don’t need to toy with a death wish, now that things seem to be calming down in my life, danger-wise.
My nerves rattle loose again as we head up into the luxury apartments, the private elevator to the penthouse. I’ve been here twice this week making sure everything is in order, the layout, stocking the bar, and meeting with the light and sound guys. Still, the night of an actual event, my first with Evan…
I know it will be fine.
But this level of production and coordination makes my old stuff look like a kindergartener’s birthday party.
At night, the penthouse is positively luminous. Every surface is reflective, marble, granite. It’s the kind of place you see in movies and on TV, chic, dark colors, and dim lighting. The furniture matches the motif, subtle deep grays and blacks with just a hint of white for accents. The monochrome works as a base coat for any and every event we might need, allowing for any accent color of curtain, carpet, or simply allowing for the lighting to color the mood.
Tonight, it’s a subtle amber that will shift with the progression of the event.
Huge surprise… it belongs to Evan.
Along with countless other properties and businesses around town, as I’ve learned this week. It started out as a joke, me asking “Is this yours?” at locations we visited for various needs.
They all were.
A tailor shop, a locksmith’s, a chain of spas, a property rental management office, and very strangely, a high-end, early childhood daycare center.
Pretty soon, it became a sarcastic quip, more like “Is this yours, too?”
He didn’t think it was as funny as I did.
Evan is still prattling on, oblivious to whether I’m actually paying attention. “Greet our guests at the elevator door and see them into the foyer, like we rehearsed. Make sure and welcome them on behalf of Halo and Wing.”
“I remember. Remind me why you use so many different entities?” I ask for the fourth time.
“You know we must be careful who has access to what information. It keeps things compartmentalized. Keeps the people we work for out of it. Keeps our clients in their lane and ignorant of other dealings. The last thing you want is for two members of the same social group realizing that their access to exclusive one of a kind wishes was also granted to their rivals.”
“I know. I just wanted to hear you explain it again. You’re so sexy when you mansplain things to me.”
“You’re a brat.”
“And you’re an overbearing micromanager.” I let my chin tip back a bit, taunting him as his eyes meet mine. Whether the heat I find there is anger or lust… hard to say. But fucking with him is my favorite new pastime. “Who do we work for?”
“Quit asking. You work for me. I’m heading back. Most of the staff know the way these go, so it should be smooth sailing. Enjoy the show, and I’ll see you back at the car afterward.”
“I’ll try to survive without you holding my hand, Sir.”
“Hellena.” He pauses, no change to his tone, but a hesitance to his posture. “I trust you.”
There shouldn’t be as much weight to the statement as I feel. Not that I wasn’t going to do an incredible job, anyway.
But having his trust… well.
I hate to say he may have figured out what makes me tick.
The next few minutes crawl by as I check in on the bartender and the two cocktail waitresses, dressed in full gowns, all wearing glittering masquerade-style masks. Every aspect of the evening is hand-picked, catered to the fantasy purchased by the client.
