"I've known Max Butcher my whole life and have never known him to claim territory," he states smugly.
Stacey looks at Salvatore. "Trust me. He has."
I blink at them. "I'm standing right here."
Stacey puts her hand on Salvatore's shoulder. "Salvatore and Max don't really get along."
Salvatore scans my body and grins as if I were a new toy. "Well, I love ruffling Max's feathers. So, ballerinagirl?—"
I shudder under his gaze. "Um, it's Cassidy."
"Where did my uncle find you? You're amazing." He ogles me. "Nubile. Flexible. I went from six-to-midnight instantly watching you perform. Was it The Doll House? It was at The Doll House, right?"
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Flick snaps.
My mouth drops open. I wish I didn't know that The Doll House is a strip club in the District, but between Toni and Konnor, the place has been mentioned more than once.
"Salvatore!" Stacey yells. "How much have you had to drink already?"
He shrugs. "It's a compliment. No, seriously, I'm sorry. You were wonderful. And to get Max Butcher to claim turf"—he gazes at my thighs and I'm sure that if his eyes could crawl up my dress they would be—"you must have something very special up your dres?—"
"Are you finished?" My eyes narrow on him. "I'm not a stripper. I'm a professional ballerina. And what's up my dress would bite you!" Snatching my expensive andcriminalmimosa, I head off towards the croquet lawn. Before I'm out of earshot, I hear Flick and Stacey crack up. Despite my annoyance with Salvatore, that makes me smile. Maybe that exchange will loosen them up enough that they can enjoy the wedding.
For a few moments, I just watch the game being played. It looks like fun. Like hockey and golf combined.
"Do you want to play?" a young red-headed girl asks me as I watch from the sideline.
I beam. "So many yeses!" She hands me a mallet and explains the instructions. It takes me a while, but eventually I'm annihilating the other contenders. By the time I finish playing, the sun has dropped below the horizon.
After wandering around the marquees for a while, I finally see my name on a table.
Soon after I sit down, Flick comes up beside me. "Have you seen Max?"
"Nope, but I'm having fun. I've just won at croquet."
She sits down next to me. "You're just like Dad. You're good at everything you try. It's really unfair."
The tables slowly fill. Despite the hour, beads of sweat form on my chest and neck, and I mentally thank Aurora for organising overhead fans in the marquees.
As the waiters begin to serve the evening meal, I glance up at the bridal table and finally get my first glimpse of Max since the ceremony. The sight of him steals my breath away.
He's taken off his jacket and opened the first few buttons of his shirt. His hair has been messed with as if he's run a hand through it a couple of times. Smiling, he turns to talk to a man standing beside him. Though Max is trying to appear casual and carefree, it doesn't hide what he is inside. It doesn't hide his burdens. They are in his eyes, in his gestures. I can see them.
I stare at him like a lovesick puppy throughout the entire four-course meal, watching as he's attacked by women eager for conversation and kisses. A knot in my belly twists every time anyone gets his attention while I sit here.
As I'm finishing off Stacey's chocolate fondant, Butch stands up to make a speech.
"Having googled a bit about wedding speeches, I've learnt that Jimmy is copping out." Everyone laughs as Butch turns to look at Jimmy, an exaggerated mien of expectancy on his face. "Father of the bride speech?" he goads as Jimmy laughs deep from his belly. "Alright, I'll do it then. Well, firstly, Aurora, sweetheart, welcome to the family. You're a Butchernow."
Butch relays a few stories about Clay and Aurora sneaking around, but they're all so innocent that if I didn't know any better, I would have presumed they were both from regular upper-class Catholic families.
After Butch finishes his second story, Bronson jumps up and pats his dad on the back. "Okay. Sit down, old man." Smiling, Butch takes a seat as his son turns to face the groom. "So... handsome, enigmatic, infectiously fun." He pauses, his eyes flicking to the crowd. "Yeah, that's enough about me."
After more laughter dies down, Bronson continues, "These things usually start with, 'When I first met Clay... Butoh wait,that doesn’t work too well because I was shitting myself when I first met Clay. So, just like my old man, I googled this and Google says the best man—" He pauses and grins. His silence is enough to make everyone laugh again. "Yep. So asthe best man, I need a killer opening line... Well, I think I nailed that. Then I need to thank the other speakers... Cheers, Dad. Jimmy, where ya been, mate? Huh?" Bronson says something in Italian. Everyone laughs, and Jimmy chuckles and waves his hand. "I also need to congratulate the couple. Clay. Aurora. Congratulations! I need to compliment the bride. Well, Aurora, you look hot. I need to make a joke about the groom, but do I really need to though? Just look at that head. And finally, I need to propose a toast... To lots of sex." He raises his glass and people cheer. Victoria barely looks up from her wine. "On a more serious note though, Clay, you will leave today with someone to share your life with, a strong, elegant, and insanely beautiful woman. Aurora, you will be leaving with a great dress and some very overpriced flowers."
The speeches have ended and the bridal party has scattered around the reception. While licking the sweet taste ofport off my lips, I remember Max's tongue and mouth tasting like this last night. I wish I could go to him. Wish it wasallowed. But the gender segregation in this world is firmly archaic. Peering across the shadowed lawn and into the cigar tent, I catch a glimpse of him.
Max, Bronson, Butch, Jimmy, Xander, and maybe twenty other men are laughing and conversing. There is no doubting the power of those men. It sits heavily in the air around them, creating a presence that surpasses their physical forms. They move with purpose. They talk measuredly. And although they seem to have affection for one another, there is an aura of tension settled between them.
