ALWAYS || RAFE CAMERON

69

Rafe returned home later that morning and we went out for brunch by the water.

he filled me in on his activities—visiting a ton of buyers with Barry after they melted more of the cross into nuggets.

"we're making a lot," he said. "everything's going well but Barry's worried people are gonna start asking questions."

"like what?"

"where the gold is coming from, you know, shit like that."

"then think of an excuse and stick to it." i shrugged.

"i've been trying to."

"any luck?"

"i don't think a lot of people are going to believe a twenty year old owns a gold mine." he sighed.

"why don't you tell them you inherited it?" i frowned.

"these buyers do their research, you know. they wanna know their gold is legit."

"then why can't you just tell the truth?"

"because what we did to the cross isn't very moral—and probably isn't even legal." he ran a hand over his head.

"i don't know what to suggest, then," i sighed. "i want to be able to help."

"i know you do," he said. "and you are helping."

"how?"

"by being here for me."

it was obvious that Rafe was stressed about the gold, about the deals, about Ward.

although he said i was helping, i felt like i could be doing more.

"hey, how about we do something at ours tonight?" i suggested.

"something?" he looked up from his plate. "like what?"

"i don't know, a little get together," i shrugged. "to celebrate your success."

"you think you can plan it in time?"

"i'm Dionne Wills' daughter, give me some credit," i scoffed. "she's like, the queen of party planning."

"alright," Rafe grinned. "let's see what you can do."

—

by 7pm, Tanny Hill was overflowing with Kooks—drink ran freely while the music blared.

"you're Dionne's daughter, alright." Rafe looked around the place. "i really didn't think you'd be able pull it off."

"haven't you learned to stop underestimating me yet?" i grinned.

"you surprise me more and more every day," he kissed me.

we walked upstairs and out onto the balcony.

"right, so this is now the VIP section." Rafe led me over to the edge, drink in hand.

"oh yeah?" i lifted my eyebrows.

"yeah, only very, very special people are allowed up here."

as he leaned down and kissed me, the group on the lawn began to cheer and clap, their drinks sloshing over the sides of their cups.

"hey!" Rafe pulled away. "that isn't Jim Beam bullshit, alright? that's Pappy Van Winkle, that's like a days salary, bro."

cups of thousand-dollar whisky were raised in homage.