Part of Your World

The Party

"Your grocery list has more than doubled, young man," Ms. Watson chided, glaring up at me from the piece of paper I'd scrawled everything I could think of to complete a party on. I gave a nonchalant shrug.

"I'm throwing Mikhail an engagement party on Friday," I explained. She gave me a coy look above her small, wire rimmed glasses. I'd never once put balloons or flowers on my list. It made me want to vomit having to do so now. A flash of red flitted through my mind, and I knew this pain would be worth it.

"I suppose now's a terrible time to tell you that my mother passed away," she said, a sad smile on her lips.

"Shit, uhh...I'm sorry," I uttered, uncomfortable. She waved a hand.

"She was nearing a triple-digit birthday. She lived a good, long life. My problem is that I'll be requesting time off to get our affairs in order, back home in Kent. My sister and I were hoping to leave before Friday," she said. I drummed my fingers on the island counter, thinking of a way out of this issue. I could just have it catered, but that meant hiding all my weapons and contracts from prying eyes.

"Do whatever you need to, and I'll give you an advance on your paychecks. Take a sabbatical," I suggested, flashing her a genuine grin. In the nine months she'd been in my employ, she'd never once been late or complained about my bleak attitude. Or said anything about the bloodstains on my clothes. Her discretion was worth more than gold. She deserved everything and more.

"No, dear, I couldn't—"

I leveled her with a dark look.

"Yes, you will. Three months off, with pay. Deal?" I growled. She glared back, hesitating.

"Fine, but when I come back, there'd better be a woman here to warm this place. And not one of those broads with big, fake knockers," she said, giving me a feisty look. I rolled my eyes. She'd made it quite clear that she thought I was more than ready to settle down and start a family. Fuck that.

"Keep it up, and I'll force you to accept a raise," I threatened, heading toward the elevator as I donned my jacket. I was met with her small laugh as I left.

The days dragged as I plotted the engagement party, mostly because all I could think about was Aria and how much I wanted to get her into bed with me. The shower would suffice as well, or even a coat closet at this point. She was stuck in my very veins, and I craved her, my new vice. By the time the day was upon us, I was all but shaking with excitement. I ended up having it catered, not in the mood to cook for fifty people, even though I knew my way around a kitchen. The elevator buzzed, and I took a moment to straighten my tie in the hall mirror before I made my way to the doors.

They opened, slow and silent, and I was greeted by two familiar faces. Claire grinned up at me, olive toned skin hiding any blush that may have arisen, though there was a tightness in her eyes. Aria stared at her feet. My heart thumped and my palms tingled. I couldn't wait to feel her smooth skin beneath my fingertips.

"Welcome," I said, motioning for them to enter. Claire's eyes bulged at the expanse of my modern, monochromatic penthouse, tugging her crimson scarf from around her neck. The weather had turned rather cold in the past few days, not unusual for this late in September. They both wore the same black dresses from their performance at Per Se, proving my suspicions of their lack of income.

"May I take your coats?" I asked, attempting a gentle, polite tone.

"Sure, thanks," Claire said, shrugging hers off and walking forward in distracted awe. At least the caterers were already here, ensuring this party wasn't a farce to lure them into my home for sinister reasons. The scent of French bread and antipasto was mouthwatering. She handed me her coat, turning to Aria, who blushed and followed suit, setting her violin case on the marble floor as she did so. I bit my cheek to keep from getting a hard on as I watched her with keen eyes, memorizing the way she moved, so fragile, so gentle.