This chapter is told from Aaron's (the boss) point of view.
Recap cast of characters:
Jack-husband
Jewel-Wife
Connor-Bartender
Aaron-Boss
It's my party and I'll sulk if I want to.
Aaron
A silent curse went through my head as I scanned the party in front of me. It was a stunning success. The champagne was chilled, the hors d'oeuvres were hot, and my guests were all mingling in the small, polite groups that ensured a good company morale. So why was I standing here, alone, getting more and more irritated by the second?
Oh, yes, because our newest partner and his bewitching bride hadn't shown yet. Jack was late. I glanced down at my overpriced and slightly obnoxious watch again. Sneering at the timepiece, I wasn't sure if I was more aggravated by the couples tardiness or at the sheer tackiness of the stupid watch. Once more I debated throwing it away. But Shelly, my third wife and my most recent ex-wife, had given it to me. She'd wanted it back in the divorce. It was the only thing she'd wanted. Well, other than my goddamned lawyer.
I shook my head as I slipped the sleeve of my tailored dress shirt back over the monstrosity. Knowing my wearing it brought Shelly some measure of grief tickled a petty spirit in me. One of these days, however, when this game lost its fun, I would relish breaking the fucking thing and mailing it to her and her new husband. My goddamned ex-lawyer.
The motion of the door opening caught my attention and pulled my focus back to my party. And my truant guests. Who were sweeping in as if they weren't a half hour late. My gaze ran over Jack before it took in Jewel. The woman who had offered to fuck me, once, in exchange for something. My smile twisted at the memory. Just like all three of my wives.
Except, the something she wanted was for somebody else, a small voice at the back of my head whispered. I rolled my eyes at the distinction. No. I don't think any of my ex-wives would've lifted a fucking finger to help me, but a wife trying to help the person who keeps a roof over their head and food on their table is hardly altruistic.
With a quick motion, I downed the rest of the scotch in my glass before making my way toward them. It would be rude for me, the host, to not greet my guests. Even if they are late.
"Jack." I held my hand out, but barely acknowledged his grasp as he shook it. Turning to face his wife, I repeated the gesture. Only, as I finally looked at her, I forgot what I was about to say. Her eyes were wide, her hair wild. She ran a hand down the length of her locks as if reading my mind before straightening her obviously skewed dress. Fuck. I knew that look. They'd just had sex. In the car. Either on the way over or in my own driveway. Maybe they weren't late. I chuckled at the thought as I made a mental note to check the security cameras after everybody left.
"Jewel," she said, as she took my hand.
Shit. Yes. That's what I was going to say. Her fucking name. "Of course. Sorry. I was just taken aback by your appearance." I watched the blush spread over her cheeks as she glanced up at Jack. "I was beginning to think maybe you hadn't gotten the invitation." I looked pointedly at my ugly watch once more.
Her expression melted into one of apology. "Oh, yes. Our late appearance," she said. "I'm so sorry. We had some..." she looked up at Jack again, this time her blush was for her husband alone, "car issues on the way over. I am really sorry."
Car trouble? Really? That's what she was going to go with? Everybody knew Jack kept his cars regularly serviced. Not as regularly as his wife apparently, but the man didn't have car problems. "Oh, that's too bad. The Mercedes or the BMW?"
Jack's smile stiffened. "Look at us. Monopolizing your time. Over a silly flat tire. I'm sure there are other people you'd much rather be talking to."
"Even if not," Jewel added, "I'm sure there are a lot of people who would love to have a moment of your time."
Just not her. I heard the words clearly even if she didn't say them. Yes, a flat tire was a more believable story. Those did tend to happen rather randomly. Not that I was buying their excuses. But at least Jack had put some thought into his version of events. As to the bit about other people I would rather be talking to or would rather be talking to me? Yes, actually. There were several. "As a matter of fact." I had barely taken a step away from them when I heard someone call Jewel's name. "And it looks like I'm not the only one."
Of course not, everybody loved Jewel. I sneered as I made my way to the bar. I needed another drink. And maybe a moment alone to collect myself. What was it about that damned woman that bothered me so much? She was pretty. Sure. But I'd had drop dead gorgeous women throw themselves at me.
Not that she'd actually thrown herself, that stupid little voice in my head whispered. "Scotch, neat." The bartender stopped pouring the glass of champagne he was currently working on to fill my order. Smart man. I made a mental note to book them for all future engagements.
"Here, sir." The man said with a slight nod of respect. Reaching into the breast pocket of my suit jacket, I pulled out a twenty.
"Thanks." His eyes took in the tip, but he didn't comment on it. That would be tacky. I was liking this guy more and more. "Leave your business card on the bar at the end of the night." It was past time for me to start making some changes in the house staff. Shelly hadn't taken any of them with her when she'd left and I had a sneaking suspicion that they were where her and her lawyer got some of the dirt they used against me in the divorce. Yes. Time for a little house cleaning of my own. A man's valet had to be trusted, afterall.
With my drink in hand, I made my way to my study. It was my party. I could disappear for a second or two if I wanted. Hell, even if it wasn't my party, nobody was going to tell me where I could or couldn't go. I had worked my ass off and sacrificed three marriages on the altar of this damn career for the privilege.