“I’m sorry. I wish I’d known…” He stopped short, unable to finish. There was nothing he could’ve done to help Spencer. He couldn’t even help himself. And Spencer, always so quick-witted, jumped on his words.
“Why? You couldn’t help me. You had your own shit to deal with. Don’t deny it because I won’t believe you. Did you think I don’t notice you never speak about your family either?”
Fear rushed inside him, like a cold wind through a gap in a broken window. “It was no big deal.”
Spencer finished calling for their car and put his phone in his pocket. “Yeah. You, me, Elliot, and Wolf—we all have our own personal shit. Elliot was the first to spill, but I can wait. One thing you can be assured of is that I’m never going anywhere. You’re stuck with me. Now here’s our car. Come on and let’s drink and dance. Maybe I’ll find a prince to kiss.”
“You deserve it.”
It was a speedy ride to the nightclub, and Spencer had already secured their entry with a special pass, so in less than five minutes they were tucked at their own table, with a bottle of Cristal and a waitress whose smiles were wasted on both of them.
“To you and André. Long may you love.” Spencer lifted his glass, and Chess clinked his flute.
“Thank you.”
He drank the champagne and settled into the curved velvet booth, casually scanning the club. As expected, it was packed with beautiful people, half of whom were obviously models or in the fashion business. Spencer was busy telling him stories of the people he knew, when Chess spied a familiar figure working his way through the crowd.
“Damn, there’s Henry, André’s brother. I have to go say hello.”
“Bring him over. I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to him, other than a hello or good-bye at some event you invited me to.”
“I will. Be right back.”
Careful to keep an eye on Henry so as not to lose sight of him, Chess hurried over to him.
“Henry,” he called out over the thumping music, waving his arm. “Henry, over here.”
Blue eyes similar to André’s met his, and Henry broke out in a smile. “Chess. What the hell are you doing here? Don’t tell me you pried my brother out of his office to a club in the Hamptons. I know he loves you, but this is going too far, even for him.”
They hugged, and Chess laughed. “No, André is in Florida, dealing with the aftermath of a fire in one of the hotels.”
“Oh, right. My mother told me. It’s always something. Bianca is in the ladies’ room, but let me buy you a drink to celebrate the news. I can always use another brother.”
Though they weren’t close, André loved his brother and sister fiercely, and Chess knew he wished they would shed their frivolous lifestyles.
“Come to my table. Remember my friend Spencer? He brought me here.”
“The fashionista, right? Sure. There’s Bianca now.” He waved at her, and she nodded, but when she saw Chess, her face brightened and she hurried through the crowd to fling her arms around him.
“Chess, I’m so happy for you. And what are you doing here?”
“Obviously, I have zero game now that I’m with your brother.” Laughing, he kissed her smooth cheek. She smelled like flowers and sunshine. Though she and Henry were twins, they looked nothing alike. Henry favored André, with his thick brown hair and intense blue eyes, while Bianca took after her father, inheriting his wavy strawberry-blond hair, big green eyes, and fair skin. Neither seemed to have the drive or tenacity André had for hard work, but Chess still wished they’d step up to take some of the burden from their older brother; even now, though, he didn’t feel it was his place to speak up.
“You’re the best thing that ever happened to him.” She squeezed his arm, and a rush of love welled up inside him.
“André’s in Florida, and Spencer had an event, so I went as his plus-one. We ended up here.” He gestured to their table. “We’re sitting over there. See him?”
Spencer waved at them with a smile and held up the bottle of champagne.
“Oh, I haven’t seen Spencer since I ran into him at the fashion show in Milan last year. He’s such fun. Let’s go have a drink.”
He and Henry followed Bianca’s willowy figure, and Chess didn’t miss the looks and leers she received from men and women alike on her way to their table; he frowned at them all. He felt protective of her. André had told him the story of how his mother hadn’t planned on having another child after him but had gotten pregnant by accident in her early forties. Henry and Bianca were an extremely high-risk pregnancy and birth, and Chess believed that was another reason she babied them, letting them get away with far more than she would otherwise. He really cared for them as if they were his own sister and brother, and hoped maybe once he and André were married, they could get to be the family he’d always yearned for.
“Hello, gorgeous.” Spencer hugged Bianca first, then Henry, before they sat at the table. A server rushed over with another bottle and poured out the champagne. “Is that Valentino? How was Europe? When are you going to settle down and stay in one place?”
“Yes, wonderful, and I’ll be here long enough to see my brother get married.” Eyes sparkling, she turned to Chess. “Tell me everything. Was it romantic? I knew André was a goner the first time he told us about you. I figured he’d do skywriting or something outrageous.”
“He did it on Main Street in Southampton. It wasn’t planned, and that’s what made it so perfect.” A little guilty, he held out his hand to show them. “I hope you’re not upset that André gave me your father’s ring.”
