I smile and hold out my hand for him to shake. “Just here for the job. How’s your brother and sister? The firm?”
“The firm is good,” he says and leans against the bar. “Brothers are good, sister is…a bit wild, but…” He shrugs. “Hey, so listen. Elena Gonzalez…”
I blink at the familiar name.
“She’s been working for me the past two years,” Thayer says. “I thought you should finally know. She said she was ready for you guys to know. She says she knows you, but couldn’t make it tonight.”
“Elena is in New York?” I ask. Elena disappeared from Willow Springs, leaving an empty space in our group when she did. None of us ever knew why or to where. I suppose I’m the first. “All this time? Working for you?”
He nods. “She’s good at what she does, Calloway. She only wanted me to say hi and to tellthe girlshi? Who arethe girls?”
I smirk a bit. “Lana and…”
Thayer shoots me a knowing look. “Ahh.TheLana.”
“The one and only.”
He pats my shoulder just as the bartender slides him a fresh glass of his drink. “I’m really happy for you, Calloway. You went and got a life.”
I nod, proud. “I went and got a life.”
“Well, congrats. See you around.”
“You too,” I say. “Have fun.”
Shit.Now I have to tell Lana about Elena.
As I linger at the bar, people who work for me and I trust come up to greet me. I force a smile and small talk, attempting to remain calm and civil. They haven’t seen me all summer since I left in April to find Lana. They are loyal employees who have kept my disease and past quiet and to themselves.
They don’t speak about it, they don’t bring it up, and they don’t look at me with pity or disdain. They respect me and I respect them. Eventually they disappear and I look over myshoulder to see Lana with her back toward me, looking across the view of Manhattan’s night skyline. I need to get to her. I’ve had enough of this place for the night.
I see my mother passing through the party and turn back to the bar. The bartender signals that he’ll be with me in a moment and my hands tremble. The space gets too small and I’m hyper aware of the fabric moving against my skin.
“Christian Calloway,” a voice says slowly, and as if my body was tense enough, I feel myself about to snap into pieces. “The life of the party. In the flesh.”
“Melanie,” I groan and the bartender finally makes an appearance. I don’t waste my time glancing at the woman. “A bottle of water and a glass of Bordeaux.”
“Hmm,” she hums. “How’d you know I like Bordeaux?”
“I didn’t.”
“Oh, come on. What’s with the apathy, Christian? You don’t remember when we dated?—”
“We didn’t date.”
“No,” she chuckles. “I guess not, but the fucking was great, wasn’t it?”
“No,” I grunt and the bottle of water is set down in front of me before Lana’s glass of wine is poured.
“Oh, stop that. What happened to you? Are we headed to the penthouse after this? I do miss your parties. They were legendary, you know?”
I finally glare at her. “They weren’t.”
She slaps my shoulder, trying to be playful and flirty. “Yes they were! They were so fun.”
“Because you were high.”
“And I am right now.” She winks. “And, guess what? It’s your favorite.”
