Primal Promise

Eight

The party was, as Jameson knew it would be, dreadful. From the outside, he was sure it looked marvelous. Music and dancing, fine food and wine, everyone dressed to the nines, laughter and gaiety and an excellent chance to see and be seen among the city's elite. From his position, it was a torturous waiting game. Each hour passed and he grew more tense, more volatile.

He offered civil nods and clenched-teeth smiles as people prattled on about nothing that he recalled even a minute after they'd moved on. His eyes were almost feral in their scan of the room, hunting out a single bloom in a vast forest.

The music was, if he was honest with himself, very fine. The singer was the sort who would wow the judges of some reality show with her smokey voice but she'd be eliminated too soon because she wasn't 'pop' enough. Still, her words of longing and loss, poured out with such emotion, were hitting too close to home. He had to get out of there.

He stalked through the luxurious hall, his steps unerringly driven to seek out the first line of defense against the riff-raff. Jaris had assured him that Contessa would have her ticket waiting at the door. If it was still there, at least he could stop kicking himself for having missed her somehow.

The elegant lounge poured out into a wide stairway that gave way to a more austere and clinical space that worked like a funnel, separating the large entrance foyer from the center's more expensive areas. A pair of metal detectors flanked a long table at which two men in matching security uniforms were lounging a bit, now that the party was on the downswing.

"You!" He barked at the men. "Were you here all night?" He didn't care which one answered.

"Yeah, man. Why?" The older of the two pushed his security company ball cap back a bit off his forehead.

"I need to pick up an invitation for a Contessa Avery."

"No can do, Pal." He shook his head.

"What?!"

"Dude, she already picked it up like an hour ago."

Jameson's knee-jerk reaction of anger to hear there was no invitation was still a fire in his mind, but to discover he had somehow missed her? That was impossible. He had barely taken his eyes from the door all night.

"I only remember because she was so weird about it." The guard shrugged. "I'm sitting here handling the looky-loos and the will-call, Juan is doing the security gate." He motioned to the other man beside him, who gave a little tap of his hat brim that went unnoticed. "This woman walks up, and " the man chuckled sleazily, "I tell you, dude, this chick was ten pounds of sexy in a five pound bag, you know?" A grin to his comrade who likewise smiled in agreement, but both smiles melted at the thunderous look that Jameson was now wearing.

"She says 'is there a CJ Avery on the list'. I look and say that there's an Avery, but I'll need to see ID, you know? Those are the rules, right? So, she shows me and yeah, I say. 'Contessa Jane Avery, right here' and I tell her like all the other will-calls that she just takes the invitation and goes up that staircase and shows it to them and she's in." his words marked by demonstrative gesturing.

"Go on." His words edged with the hinted vibrato of a growl.

"She takes it, and for a second, she looks kinda..." he passed his hand in front of his eyes a few times. "All dreamy for a second. Then she asks if it is hers to keep. I say, again, 'yeah, it's all yours, baby' and she says 'Hmm.' like 'whaddya know?' and she turns and just ... walks away." He fluttered his hand at the large bank of glass doors a few yards away.

"Which way did she go?" Jameson growled.

"Oh, I don't have any idea, man."

"Shoulda memorized her address when she flashed her license." his friend teased with a hint of something rude under the words.