Mistress's Good Boy (BWWM)

Chapter 18

"Ah, Miss Crux it is a delight that you've finally joined us." Mistress Buchanan separates from the crowd. Her whole body screams out, 'This girl is under my wing. She is mine.'

"Sorry about my tardiness, I didn't expect to be that long," We're the only ones talking in this large room. I keep my nerves controlled through it and smile as pleasantly as I can. "Did Noma arrive? I hope she didn't come later than me." The woman places a hand against my back walking me through the split crowd of people, to a small section in the back. There are red velvet couches, and a glass table adorned with platters of finger-foods. The area is right next to the open window, peering down over a lush garden, and fountain lit by the rainbow colors of the setting sun. Mistress Buchanan leaves me to the group and disappears back into the crowd with an unfamiliar name dripping from her tongue, a wave in her hand.

"You look absolutely dashing!" Ophelia gushes, raising from her chair to give me a breath snatching hug. Tyrese hums in agreement, and I smile at the group, scooching in to sit next to Christian. I bump his leg.

"Where's Noma?" He squints through the crowd and then points at the woman, whose struggling with a platter of glasses. I laugh into my hand. "And Ezra." Christian scans the crowd again and then points at the bar. I follow his line of sight and spot the boy almost immediately, with his all-white two-buttoned suit. Ezra is already looking at me, lips firm and eyes narrowed. He's so distracted he doesn't even realize the person next to him is tapping him on the shoulder. He jumps cutting his eyes away to laugh tightly at what the other said. His posture going tense.

"Whose that?" I mumble raking my eyes over the stranger. Christian closes his eyes bouncing his head from the left of his shoulder to the right and then he leans into my ear.

"Client." He whispers. Raising a brow, I watch as the man runs a hand along Ezra's arm, slowly tracing small shapes into the cloth. Eventually, he abandons the motion to brush along Ezra's ear, tracing down his jaw and thumbing over his chin. The mystery man peeks at me from the corner of his eye with a grin tugging at his lips. He mouths something to Ezra. Narrowing my eyes, I turn back to Christian feeling my lips purse.

"Is that—"

"Rosalita, you look smashing!" I jump and the woman cackles, setting the platter of champagne flutes down with an ungraceful clatter. Everyone goes to grab a glass but before Christian can even so think about taking one as well, Noma shoves a lidded cup towards him. The boy's face erupts in color and he snatches the cup clearly embarrassed and mortified. He tucks into his spot on the couch and hides the plastic cup from peering eyes. "When did you get here?" Noma interrupts, cocking her hip and crossing her arms.

"A few minutes ago, actually. I got held up when I was getting dressed." I wrap my hands around the neck of the glass and take a small sip from the edge of the cup. The sweet taste immediately fizzes against my tongue and I shoot a surprised look towards Noma who downs her own glass pretty quickly.

"No wonder I was bombarded with questions from Remi. Hmm, you must have come in when I was in the bathroom," Noma sets her empty glass down and holds a tan palm out towards me. I set my hand over the top of her's while still clutching the champagne flute in my other hand. "Anywho, Remi is literally vibrating out of his skin to meet you, and I did promise that I'd introduce the two of you." Oh? I take another sip and then set the half-empty cup on the tabletop. With a dust to my dress skirt, I haul myself up with Noma's help, maneuvering between everyone's legs.

A stray note from one of the cellist eggs the others into a continued play of music, slow and crisp. This seems to break the ice causing the little chatter to resume; hushed whispers and tiny giggles. We're halfway through the little clusters of people before a solid hold latches onto my arm.