My mother hated these parties when she was married to my father, and she hates them even more now that she actually has to travel to attend them. She has her ways of getting back, however, Like wearing black to a white-only party.
I line up my shot and carefully hit the ball. I barely miss the one I was aiming for, and will now wait until my next invigorating turn. My brain is probably about half as melted as my mother’s. When it comes to these sorts of functions, I get all of my personality from her.
“So how’s the project coming along?” We’re standing off to the side while two old ladies fat with west-coast money squabble over whose ball is whose. “Your father says that the Andrews paid a visit to you and Kathryn on Friday.”
I’m lucky it’s not my turn, because I’ve done a bang-up job forgetting about Kathryn and Friday. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t regret driving my cock into her and feeling her body writhe between mine and the wall. If we didn’t do it, I would have exploded. Again. Like I did twelve years – damnit stop thinking about that.
But I didn’t explode anywhere but inside her this time. And hell, it was damn good.
Ahem.
“It’s fine.” Sweat fogs up my sunglasses, and I don’t know why I’m perspiring all of a sudden. Didn’t start until my mother mentioned Kathryn. Aw, fuck.
“Uh huh.” My mother clears her throat. “I’m surprised the Alisons aren’t here today. I would think your father would invite them after the Andrews.”
The star couple is schmoozing near the buffet table. Lana Andrews, dressed in a stunning white summer dress that accentuates her figure while still covering her up, puts her hand on everyone’s shoulder and bats her eyelashes at them – including the women. Some of them flirt back with her, which makes husband Ken smirk in arousal. Sure, he’s got it contained in his pants, but a man knows when another is salivating over his wife making nice with beautiful women. Knowing what I do about the Andrews’ personal lives? None of these people stand a chance. They’re all going to bed.
Yet I can’t help but laugh when I see the latest target is one of the heads of the community council. Well, if they’re going to use their swinger powers for good…
“The Alisons couldn’t make it,” I say. “They had something else planned.”
“Pity. I haven’t seen Kathryn in a while.”
For some reason, that makes me flinch.
“You two used to date, right?”
I turn around, facing my mother for the first time in five minutes. I half expect to see her smiling at me in that teasing way. Instead she’s looking as if she’s actually searching her brain for the right answer. Seriously?
“No. We have never dated.” My mallet is digging into the earth, creating a fun divot for someone to fix later. “You must be thinking of another blonde.”
“No… no, I clearly remember it being Kathryn Alison at that gala all those years ago.”
Play it cool, man. What the fuck does your mother know about the gala? “Remember it being her for what, exactly?” Don’t act like you know what she’s talking about. Play it cool.
Now she’s smiling at me, and I know I’m in trouble. “The one who was making eyes with you all day. Don’t play innocent, Ian. A mother knows when her son is… doing that.”
What is she implying? She usually doesn’t bring up any relationships I don’t make her privy to or don’t show up in the papers. And why now? Why would she bring this up now? “Perhaps so. That was a long time ago. I don’t really remember.”
“Oh, son, I would think you remember that.”
“You’d be mistaken.”
Before I know it, my turn has come again. My mother eyes me while I line up a shot. “You’ve always been a terrible liar to me.”
Her words make me miss my shot, and everyone around us chuckles.
“What am I lying about?” I mouth at her. She signals to the balls on the ground. Now I’m forced to take my shot again, and I miss the hoop by about five miles. More chuckling. I feel like a jackass. When a server comes by with tiny flutes of champagne, I take one and down it in five seconds, giving me enough time to return it to the tray before the server goes on her merry way.
Mother waits until I’m properly humiliated and back at her side before replying. “Forgive me. Your taste for blondes has led to me making embarrassing assumptions.”
She’s not embarrassed.
“Your father was the same way. Had a thing for brown hair.” My mother tucks her hand beneath her brown locks and tosses them behind her shoulder. “He wouldn’t shut up about two things when we dated – my hair and my tits.”
“Is this going somewhere?”
She shrugs. This is not what I really mean, but sometimes I hate my mother, in that slighted teenage boy sort of way. It bothers me that she knows so much about me and my life, even though I’ve stopped telling her a lot about it. She’s damned nosy. You’d never guess she cares about the answers you give her, but she does. She’s that good at masking all emotions.
Drives me nuts.
The game ends before I have the chance to take my next shitty shot. Thank God. I’m done being too distracted to play a game. Time to get away from my mother and drink something harder than champagne. Thankfully, my father always has a wet bar on hand at these functions.
Since it’s so crowded around the bar, I don’t see who’s sitting at the far end, alone, because nobody ever wants to deal with her scary ass.
“Oh, good, about time I found someone in charge around here.” Eva Warren smacks her hand on my arm, and I nearly jump out of my skin and drop my glass. “Who do I talk to about a severe lack of vodka at the bar? I need it to get through crap like this.”
Eva Warren is almost worse than my mother. I say almost, because unlike my mother, Eva can’t hide the fact that she’s messing with someone.
“I’m afraid I don’t know anything about that.”
Even though she’s wearing thick sunglasses, the twitch in her lips says that she’s borderline amused. “Kathryn told me that you know so much, though.”
Damnit, is today the day of harassing Ian about Kathryn? Are all these women in on some big secret together? Or maybe I’m going insane. “All right. I’ll indulge you. What do you want?”
“Touché!” Her long limbs slip off a stool, and now she’s standing next to me, nearly towering over me because the Warrens are ridiculously tall. They say her brother Henry has to sit in the lowest chair in the room to keep from intimidating his business partners during meetings. Meanwhile, men like Ken Andrews are probably stuffing lifts into their shoes to look taller. It takes all kinds in this rich world of ours.
Eva senses that I’m uncomfortable and slouches. How kind of the woman who is overdressed in a stylish white suit. Overdressed, and yet not even I can care because she owns it so well. Sometimes I think it wouldn’t be so bad being reborn a lesbian. I get to not give a shit about a single thing and still fuck women. Best of both worlds?
“I was merely wondering where that pretty blonde from last week was.” She shrugs, as if I shouldn’t be suspicious. “The two of you seemed to be having a lot of fun at the club. Not often a guy gets a polish that good.”
I’m lucky she’s keeping her voice down. “You liked what you saw, huh? Something you want to confess?” I can play her inappropriate game. In fact, I have to. Right now I have no idea if Kathryn has told her about what’s going on. I don’t know if she’s talked to her best friend about us having sex, or if she’s mentioned what else happened at the club. I’m not going to give that information away, but I also don’t want to act ignorant. Not in front of Eva.
“You still haven’t answered my question.”
“Why do you care? I’m not seeing her right now.”
The way she looks at me is beyond unnerving, although I do my best to not let it show. Especially when we’re shortly joined by two people I could really live without right now.