Closer (18 page)

She bounded up the steps and rushed to him.  “So apparently it only takes four shots to become your fiancée
?
”

“Get me a fifth one and I’ll marry you tonight.”

He drew her body against him like he owned her.  She attempted not to indulge in the intoxicating scent of his cologne or notice the way his hard chest pressed against her breasts. 

“I think it’s better if we just stay boyfriend and girlfriend.”  She pinned his wrists against his sides, trying to quash his game of grab-ass.  “Can you see better now with the stage lights?”

“Yes, just barely.  Which is fortunate since you broke your promise.”

She frowned. “Sven…I am so sorry about that.”

“Shhh.”  He covered her mouth with his palm. “Perhaps I’ll let you make it up to me.”

She lowered his hand, fearing his manwhore answer.  “How?”

He nestled his lips against her ear.  “By helping me find the bathrooms so I can take a piss.”  He handed her the fragile glass award, as if he wanted to relieve himself of its burden.

“Definitely,” she answered and guided him down the stage steps. “That, I can do.”

The stage lights faded and the whole ballroom fell into subdued darkness, accentuating the twinkling Chicago cityscape city through the yacht’s panoramic windows.  Caught off guard by the change, Sven stopped and hesitated. 

Inez halted them in their tracks. “Oh my God...”

“What?” he asked with concern.

“The view.  It’s stunning.”  She nodded towards the cityscape, steering them towards the ballroom’s exterior windows.  The yacht turned and churned through the crisp black waters, rotating its starboard side to the majestic skyline.  “You probably can’t see it, but The Spire looks breathtaking from all the way out here on the lake.  Really breathtaking, Sven.”

He closed in on her from behind, dropping his chin over her shoulder.  “Tell me about it.” She exhaled as his possessive arms wrapped around her waist.

“Well, it’s the tallest thing in the skyline, by far…but it’s also the brightest.  And it’s radiating light, not like the Hancock Tower or the Sears Tower which are just twinkling antennas and building silhouettes.  The Spire is actually…sparkling.  Like a mirrored disco ball, reflecting everything around it.”

There was a long pause of silence as she took in the view and the way his breath rose and fell in steady intervals against the sensitive curve of her neck.

“Thank you,” he finally whispered.  “Thank you for tonight.”

“You’re welcome,” she whispered back, relaxing her hand on his forearm, considering all the implications of allowing him to cradle her body against his own.

“I’m fairly certain we should be sharing that award since The Spire was a Van der Meer project.”  The voice called out from behind them.  “But as usual, you’re taking all the credit for everyone else’s accomplishment.”

Hans pushed towards Inez and swept the frosted sculpture away from her.  Sven raised his drowsy head as if he had been asleep and faced the sound of his brother’s unmistakable voice.

“Yes, you run our business, Hans.  But I’m the architect.  The Spire was my vision and my design.”

“And I’m the one who got it approved and funded,” Hans asserted.  “And like all things between us, you didn’t even bother to thank me for it.”

“And like all things between us, you steal everything away from me because you assume it’s your right to have it.”

“Oh, boys.” Inez slipped between them. “Can’t we just kiss and make up?”

“No,” Sven replied. “Because there is no brotherly love between us.”

“That’s usually the outcome when you try to kill someone,” Hans countered.

Sven lunged at him with the threat of violence, but Inez blocked his path. “I only regret not succeeding,” he seethed.

“Sven…no.  Don’t—” she insisted, barely holding him back.  Fueled by rage and alcohol, he was aggressive and unpredictable.  She was uncertain as to whether or not he would sweep her aside or heed her protests.  “Not here.  Not tonight.”

She tugged on the lapels of his suit coat, like she was attempting to control a wild stallion
. 
His nostrils flared and his hot breath fumed against her chin
. 
Whatever credentials she thought she had going into this job, horse whisperer was not one of them.  Desperate, she forced him to look at her with a slap—a clean, bitch-don’t-take-no-prisoners crack against his hard cheek that shuddered him into submission. 

“Did you just slap me?” He stared at her, eyes glossy and incredulous, while rubbing his cheek.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she insisted, dragging him away from Hans and into a secluded corner of the ballroom.  The band’s trumpets blared through the melodic jazz piece.  Inez glanced around the room, hoping no one had noticed the altercation. 

“Look at me.” She redirected him by his chin.  “What did he mean?”

“Whatever will justify his actions to make me Cain to his Abel.”

“Very biblical, Sven.  But newsflash: this is modern day America.  Which means you don’t just get to go around threatening to kill people for the fun of it.  So please tell me this has something more to do with than Celeste?”

As if she had finally said something that resonated in his heart, he looked deeply into her eyes before turning away, unwilling or unable to answer her.

“Well, I hardly think I’m worth fighting over, especially when you’re already engaged to someone else.”  The spritely female voice cut into their moment of privacy and answered for him. 

Ugh
.  Inez reluctantly turned towards Celeste’s unpleasant clown smile. 

“And
such
a precious moment tonight,” Celeste drawled, waving her champagne flute through the air. “Dedicating your entire acceptance speech to someone you’ve only known for…how long?”

“You sound jealous, Celeste,” Sven retorted, fixing his eyes on the slinky black velvet gown that clung to her curveless body and her perfectly moussed French bob cut across her high cheekbones, accentuating their severity. 

“Not jealous, Sven.  Just…unimpressed.” Her eyes smoldered beneath purple eye shadow while narrowing her gaze onto Inez like she was nothing more than a sock puppet.  Celeste scanned her hand with a frigid glare.  “I’m surprised you’re engaged without an engagement ring.”

“And I’m surprised that Sven just received the Genius Award and you haven’t even congratulated him,” Inez shot back. 

“Sven knows I’m his biggest supporter.” Celeste lowered her voice as if directly addressing Inez was beneath her.  “I may not be the fiancée who receives his praise in his public speeches, but Sven knows I’m the one who supported him—and his work on The Spire—from the very beginning.  Even when very few people wanted to.” Celeste unexpectedly pushed closer to him and reached out her thin fingers to stroke his cheek.  “And even after the accident.”

Sven flinched, deflecting her touch.  “Your memory is flawed, Celeste.  I was alone after the accident.  You had already chosen to leave me in favor of my brother.”

Celeste dropped her hand like he had shot it with a bullet. “It’s a curious thing how our memories revise the past, Sven.  The only thing I remember is choosing to move on from our relationship because you refused to commit to me.”

“I committed to you for two years, Celeste,” Sven replied.

“Because I was committed to supporting your work.”

Like divorced parents, Inez watched them escalate their conversation into an uncomfortable rehashing of past wounds and blame. 

“I think the only thing that matters now is that Sven enjoys his night,” Inez interjected, slipping between them. “After all, he is officially a genius now.”

“And as my reward, Inez promised to get me home early to give me a bath,” Sven announced with a carefree grin. 

Both women turned and stared at him.  He hiccupped and drew Inez towards him, nestling his nose into her neckline.  Inez held her ground, enduring Celeste’s smoldering stink eye, while Sven’s hot breath whispered over her bare shoulder. 
It was all for show.  Clearly, all for show
.

“Well, I can’t imagine when you intend to get married,” Celeste countered. “Especially since Sven is expected to participate in the Li Long project in Shanghai at the end of this week.”

Sven raised his lips from Inez’s neckline.  “I haven’t decided whether or not I’m going to Shanghai. And I’m certainly not going without Inez.”

Inez stared at him.  They had never discussed their “arrangement” extending beyond that week, much less extending overseas.  She replayed Eliot’s warning to her.  “What happens if you don’t go to Shanghai, Sven?”

“He will miss out on the most prestigious commission of his career,” Celeste answered for him.  “The Li Long Towers will make The Spire look like a rough draft in comparison.  All of Chicago knows about the van der Meer brothers because of The Spire, but the whole world will know about Sven if he designs the Li Long Towers.”

“Not if Hans and Eliot Watercross take all the credit for my work,” he replied.

Celeste laughed, the pitch in her voice rising with a nervous flutter.  “They can only do that if you let them.  It was your design of The Spire that was revolutionary, and no one else can design the Li Long Towers better than you.  They need you, Sven.  They know it.  And you know it.”

Devin zipped up to them and handed off another shot to Sven.  “Another Stoli for you, Mr. van der Meer.”

The bugles and snare drums closed the band’s set with dramatic verve.  The audience clapped and the chandeliers briefly flashed.  Devin’s manager flagged him from across the room.

“Okay, there’s my cue to start making the rounds for clean-up and final drinks.  Is there anything else I can bring you all?”

Sven downed his shot and tossed another hundred onto Devin’s tray. “Just a final request to the band.” He leaned in and whispered into Devin’s ear and handed over another hundred dollar bill.

“You got it, Mr. V.”

“And Devin—” Sven called after him. “Tell them I’ll tip them a grand if they can find a singer to do justice to the song.  I want to dance with my fiancée.  The slower, the better.”

“Us?  Dancing?” Inez protested. “We can’t.  Not in front of all these people.”

“No?” He frowned at her, wounded by her rejection. 

“Sven is one of the best dancers I know,” Celeste interjected, sipping her champagne and seizing the opportunity to ease the expression of disappointment on his face.  She inched closer to smooth down Sven’s shiny rose quartz tie. “Too bad your fiancée won’t appreciate it.” 

“Put on some Macarena, and maybe I’ll be persuaded,” Inez slung back.

Celeste turned on her heel and tossed a sidelong glance at Inez through her spider lashes.  “Congratulations on your engagement.  Hans and I have put our own wedding on hold until he returns from Shanghai.  I suggest you consider doing the same—for Sven’s sake.”  Celeste strode past Inez, bumping against her shoulder before catwalking like a model across the ballroom. 

“Celeste is always such a bright ray of sunshine to be around, isn’t she?” Inez mused.

“She’s still angry at me for not marrying her.” Sven swayed to one side.  Clearly, the effects of his fifth shot were wearing on him.

Inez rushed to offer her support.  “Well, I can’t imagine
why
you didn’t sweep her off her feet and carry her down the aisle when you had the chance. Especially since she acts like she’s always plagued with wedgies that she can’t pick or scratch.”

Sven shrugged. “Maybe she’s right.  Maybe I was only committed to her because she was committed to supporting my work.”

“Or maybe you just didn’t love her the way that she loved you.”  It came out of her mouth before Inez had a chance to filter it. 

“Perhaps.  Or perhaps I was waiting…” he paused, careful not to mispronounce his words.

“Waiting for what?”  She rushed forward, propping him up as he sagged slightly, placing his precarious balance into her care.

“For someone who better suited me to come along.”

Sven let the sentiment dangle like a lure on a fish line.  Inez replayed the sensation of his lips against her own, considering what would happen if she tugged on his bait.  Instead, she forced him to regain his own balance and pretended to ignore him.

“Well, regardless…none of that gives Celeste the right to run off and sleep with your brother.”

“No.  I didn’t think so either,” he agreed. “But in the end, the way that I handled it made everything worse than it had to be.”

He touched his eyepatch.  Inez stared at him, noticing how they were avoiding the elephant in the room.  She shifted her attention across the ballroom and spotted Celeste standing next to Hans and Eliot Watercross near the champagne fountain.

“Sven…what happens if you don’t go to Shanghai?”

“I’ll probably be ruined,” he answered.  “But even worse…I’ll be destined to act like Celeste for the rest of my life…plagued by wedgies that I can’t pick.”

Inez eyed him, containing her smile.  “Do you even know what a wedgie is?”

“No,” he confessed with a smirk.  “But it sounds terrible.”