Page 13 of Bent, Not Broken

“I’ll take him,” Slater said.

River’s familiar black Maserati pulled to a stop on the street behind the nearby bike, and he hopped out as soon as the car was stopped, walking directly toward us. He still had his suit on from the office, and his gold-rimmed glasses had slipped down to the end of his nose. He looked ready to litigate someone to death. I cringed.

“Jesus Christ,” Slater swore and turned to escape back toward his house. I wanted to ask him for his phone number before he left, but maybe now wasn’t the best time. Also, he’d tossed me out of his house naked, so that idea might have been dumber than the pill I swallowed earlier.

“What the fuck did I just see?” River asked.

“What did I see in your office?” I fired back as cheerfully as I could, but I really felt terrible. My stomach hated me.

“Touché,” River sniped. “Travis. Will you help me do the honors?” he asked, tone dry. “What are you doing here?”

The two of them talked while they hoisted me to my feet, and I did embarrassingly little to help. Once they got me steady, River wrapped an arm around my shoulders and piloted me to his car. He managed to get me into the front seat, somehow, in between me staggering and puking again. I tried to buckle my belt, but he had to slide it into the clip when he got in. He shook his head at me and pulled out into the street.

“Thanks, boss,” I mumbled weakly. “Hope this doesn’t go into my yearly review.”

He adjusted his rearview mirror and snorted. “You’re due into the office by nine tomorrow morning.”

“Would expect nothing less.”

He shook his head, and when I glanced at him his Adam’s apple jumped. “Don’t take this to mean more than it does, but I don’t want to look for someone to replace you. Your life is your life, but I’ve gotten used to seeing your face around the office.”

Smiling, I grabbed his hand on the shifter and gave it a squeeze until he shook me off. “I was never in any danger.”

He made a small noise that didn’t sound like he agreed with me. I stared out the window as he drove us north across the city. The late-night storefronts and headlights streaked by prettily, like someone had turned all the protons and waves that made light into water paints. Maybe I was still really fucking high. River navigated the car toward Vert Island. My mood got steadier as we got closer to my home. I could hide there until this wore off. He paid the toll across the bridge without bitching about it, and after that he followed my less than clear directions, with only one wrong turn I assumed was my fault, to take me to Lavender House. I lived with my parents at the historic mansion sometimes, when one of them happened to be home. Curiously, the front gates were open when we arrived at the drive, something I didn’t expect. River drove slowly past the Lavender House plaque embedded on the gate.

“Why’s it called Lavender House?” River asked me, interest in his tone. He leaned forward toward the mansion that I’d grown up in. The old place sprawled as long as three football fields, and spotlights blazed on the front entrance. He hummed. “Looks like white siding and brick to me.”

“Put down your window,” I said on a laugh. As soon as he did, the scent wafted in, spicy and sweet.

“Wow.”

“Lavender,” I said with a little handwave.

“Where’s that smell come from?” He looked left and right at the lawn that doubled as an arboretum, so we couldn’t see past the double row of trees on either side of us.

“My mother has the gardener maintain plots in the back, and lavender lines the house and all the walks. My grandmother loved the flower, and she started the tradition. Ripped out her grandmother’s roses and put in the lavender. It was a real shock back in the day. Everyone talked about it. Still a family scandal.”

“Wow,” River said, but I could tell he thought we were ridiculous. He sounded that way sometimes when I actually talked about myself and my life outside of work. Hurt wound around in my chest, but I ignored it and smiled at him.

When we approached the house and I could actually get a good look at what was going on, I groaned. Cars lined the winding drive, and then I realized there were party lights strung up in the trees near the house. Tiki lamps had been set out and lit the way from the area where the cars were parked to the front door.

“My mother must be home. She calls her closest friends when she’s in town. Damn it, she didn’t tell me.” I ran a hand through my hair and my stomach jumped. She wouldn’t be mad at me, even rolling in barely dressed and drunk. She never was. In fact, anything I’d ever done was perfectly fine and, in her words, ‘delightful.’ That was half her problem. Dad was the complete opposite. He would have been horrified.

“Shit,” I grumbled as River pulled up near the portcullis I directed him to at the side of the house. The party was taking place in the back, and I could see through the tall wrought-iron fence that the pool area was swarming with people. “Just shut it off here.” As I got out, I waved at Jonathan, one of my father’s employees, who always seemed to get called here for party duty. He was tall and thin, maybe about forty, with a nice smile. He wore a suit, as usual. He tried to be serious and nod at me, but he ended up covering a smile as I stepped out of the car.

“Park it for us, will you?” River said, tossing him the keys. Surprised, I turned back toward him.

“I drove you all the way out here. Might as well stay for the party.” The look he gave me wasn’t hopeful, exactly, but I knew he was probably thinking that knowing these people could be useful to him, and I agreed with a silent nod.

“Sure. Come on. I have to go through this crowd to get to my apartment. I’ll introduce you to my mother.” This meeting would have been better if my head didn’t feel like I’d spent an hour on a roller coaster, my stomach wasn’t roiling, my ass wasn’t sore, and I didn’t look like I’d just been fucked then spent an hour puking—but I had. I tipped my chin up and led River to the gate in the fence, more direct than the route I’m sure the other guests used through the house.

We stepped into the pool patio, set up with catering tables and a help-yourself wine area, and the quiet strains of music wafted over the small knots of strangers milling and talking. Under a softly lit string of red paper lanterns near the house, a man sat on a stool playing guitar, and I wasn’t sure if he was paid to be there, or if it was someone doing it just for fun. At first glance, I estimated fifty people were about to witness my grand entrance. The cement on the pool pad was warm and smooth under my feet as I forced myself forward.

Mom stuck out at the far end of the pool in a white evening gown and full makeup, when most of the guests out here were in their swimsuits. She stood near a table, laughing with a couple of women. Two men were transfixed by her as well, which was usual. I strolled toward them and heard stifled titters following me as I went, but whatever.

“Mother, you didn’t tell me you were in town.” I went for jovial and hoped for the best.

She glanced up and her mouth fell open, then she brayed out the kind of laugh women like her weren’t supposed to be capable of and rushed toward me with her arms open. She gave me a hug in spite of my less-than-stellar appearance, and then stood back to look at me.