Trifecta (14 page)

Chapter Fourteen

Back in college there were two types of parties.  The party to get a man and the party with your man.  Anything else, themes, holidays or other events were only window dressing on those two distinctive parties.

Each party had its own strategy.  At the party to get a man, you showed yourself off.  At the party with your man, you showed him off.

Outside the hotel ballroom that hosted the charity pre-holiday bash, Lauren was flanked by not one, but two, men.  She should be marching in with one on each side and gloating, more proud than if she owned multiple Valerie bags.  Instead, her face heated and she trembled.

Once Jason announced they would make their debut here, she envisioned this moment more times than she cared to admit.  She wanted to watch the women drop their mouths as she held on to both of them, and she wanted the men to admire her for being able to satisfy two of their kind.  She even wanted to make Anne jealous for snaring her beloved Russell.  Yes, catty, but true.

However, as they walked in, her heart pounded a warning, and her stomach weighed her down even though they hadn't eaten yet. Something was wrong, she couldn't tell exactly what, but something.  The sensation was the same one as when she walked into a client site and knew they dropped her product, the same one when she entered a room and everyone knew a secret she didn't, the same one when something was wrong with your man.

Come to think of it, there were three parties.  The man getting party, the man showing off party, and the worst one of them all, the man losing party. 

Yes, she pictured the three of them walking in hand in hand and strutting her stuff.  She never pictured Jason guiding her by her shoulders as if he were steering a car and Russell lagging four paces behind them while he did a variety of things, check his phone, fiddle with the button on his sleeve, tie his shoe.

"I'll be the designated driver tonight."  Jason gave her shoulders a squeeze.  "Feel free to allow me to pour the two of you home."

She turned and tried to smile.  In her vision of showing Jason off he looked exactly as he did now.  Today he dressed as an alternative rock star in flitted dark blue jeans, a white t-shirt covered by a grey blazer, and that chain thing that hooked from one of his belt loops to his back pocket.  Only certain men could pull off his ensemble and not appear as if they were trying too hard.  Jason was one of those men.

"I was going to offer."  Russell uttered his first words since they left the house. 

She bit the inside of her mouth.  They both offered, apparently they both felt she needed to drink, and that indefinable voice in the back of her head agreed with them. Before they entered, she needed to check something.  Maybe it had been so long since she went to a party with a man, or men, that she forgot.  "Fine, then I'll get stinking drunk and then the two of you can take advantage of me."

"Vodka tonic?"  Jason raised his eyebrows and put his hand on her hip.  "Two of them?"

Okay the problem wasn't Jason, but deep down in the same place where the sick feeling lived, she already knew.  In fact, she already knew who caused the sensation, only she didn't want to admit defeat.  She set her jaw and waited for Russell to respond.

"Let me get in line for the bar."  With a spackled smile across his face, Russell dashed into the ballroom.

She forced her feet to stay put, refusing to be the girl who either chased him and put him on the spot to do one of two things, lie to her, or break up with her.  Not that it mattered, he couldn't break up with her, they were only dating nothing more, a title she bestowed on them.

Before she succumbed to being a female, she willed the lump in her throat away and remembered this was Russell.  Russell her best friend, who idled at quiet and loathed parties and crowds of people.

She searched the inside of the ballroom until she found him in line at the bar.  He was bending over and checking the cuff of his pants.  She sighed.  He hated parties, right?  Maybe something went on at work.  Normally, it would take a drink and at least a half hour of television to get him to fess up as to what upset him.  Instead, she dragged him here expecting this grand romantic gesture.

She should be the one getting the drinks, let him relax, and open up his own way.  This was the first time they all went out together.

"Shall we?"  Jason bowed to her.

"Yes." She tried for a true smile, and once more looked for Russell.

Anne and Russell.

Her forced smile diluted worse than cheap alcohol in a pool of melting ice.

Anne staked her claim, and rather than Russell shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and searching for her out to save him, he laughed and hugged her.

Though she told herself Russell was simply being polite, her own heartbeats drowned out her inner logical voice as she walked forward.  

Before she caught up with them to save her best friend, the man she slept with every night, Russell bent down to Anne's leg.

Anne flipped her hair and lifted her already short skirt as Russell took her shoe off.

The lump in Lauren's throat doubled in size, and she stopped to watch them leave with Russell offering her his arm.

"I want my drink."  She wanted about five.

"Consider me at your service."  Jason grabbed her hand.

She let him lead her away and stared at nothing.  "Bourbon, neat." 

***

"How kind of you to come to a lady in need."  Anne sat down in one of the chairs at the edge of the ballroom and smiled up at him.

Russell glanced around the ballroom, expecting it to turn into a black vortex that would take him straight to Hell.  At least then he would have a destination.  Tonight all he had done was wander aimlessly.  Every step took him further from his goal, if he knew what he wanted.

"What's up, Anne?"  At least Lauren couldn't accuse him of not being nice to her.  He allowed her to hug him and drag him away to fix her shoe.  Anne fit every vision he had of a sales rep, though he wasn't sure if she should be selling drugs or used cars. 

"Nothing until you got here."  She tilted her head.  "It's about time you flew solo."

He narrowed his eyes.  Anne and Lauren were a strange pairing.  They almost weren't friends, and he wondered if it was one of those girl things he would never understand.  Anne wasn't ugly, but she wasn't pretty either. If he were set up on a date with her, he would have given it a try, but the minute she opened her mouth it would have been over.  Everything she said seemed to have a hidden meaning.

"Who said I'm alone?"  He reached into his pocket and took out his Swiss Army Knife.  Too bad he didn't have a tool to fix this night.

"You're not, you're with me."  Anne wiggled her foot in front of him. "Can you fix it?" 

He chose a screwdriver and dug in. Shoes he could fix, he wasn't sure about anything else.

What did Lauren and Jason want him to do?  March into this party, bend her back and give her a kiss and then smile and point while Jason did the same?  He wiped his forehead and continued.

The night of the art gallery was safe.  They were only setting the stage, nothing happened.  Years of wanting Lauren took a toll on their friendship leaving one solution. But…

He held the shoe up and fit the heel back into the sole. 

But they were here with professional people.  But, it was his responsibility to protect them from themselves.  But it wasn't supposed to be this good.

He slammed the shoe into the floor.

But, it wasn't supposed to be this good. The three of them together was the best was amazing, and yet it was off kilter, wrong.  Wrong not in the way that he brought a girl home from the other side of tracks, but wrong as in no one would ever understand.  They would be freaks.

Jason didn't care. He lived in a land all his own with nothing to lose.  Lauren was too starry eyed to realize what the three of them could do to her career.  He needed to be the voice of reason.

He lifted the shoe and tried moving the heel.  It held steady, exactly like he had to.  "Here you go."

"You're my hero!"  Anne slipped the shoe on, shot up and flung her arms around him, weighing him down.

Lauren and Jason caught up with them and he tried to unravel himself from Anne.

"What happened to the drinks?"  Jason elbowed him.

"We got side tracked."  Anne kept hold of his arm and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "How are you, girlfriend?"  She tilted her head toward Lauren.

He stiffened not only at the kiss but at the sight of who he really wanted kissing him.  Lauren was gorgeous in her emerald green dress high heels, hair swept off to one side.  Yes, gorgeous, elegant, that was his Lauren.  The one who could calculate the percentage of anything in her head, make dinner in her business suit, cry during a sitcom and then put some lingerie with no panties and satisfy not one, but two men. 

"Strange day."  Lauren downed the rest of her drink. 

She may as well have slapped him.  Her words stung the same.  Didn't she understand he was doing this for her?  "Let me return to my duties and get some refills."  He gently pushed Anne back wanting to push his duties back as well, wanting to let it go like Jason, or live the fantasy like Lauren. Now she wouldn't glance in his direction.

"We'll go get the drinks."  Once more Anne laced her arm in his.

"We'll all go."  Jason put his arm around Lauren, stared straight at him and raised his eyebrows.

Yes, he felt Jason's warning, but later, much later, Lauren would thank him for not turning the three of them into the gossip of the hour.

"I need to take care of something."  Lauren spun toward Jason.  "Where's the bathroom?"

Russell opened his mouth.  On their way in, he already scoped out all the bathrooms knowing Lauren and Jason both would need them. 

Jason held up a finger and turned left and right. 

"It’s out the front of the ballroom and down the corridor past the potted palm." Russell exhaled and got his arm back from Anne. 

Lauren didn't acknowledge him.

He gritted his teeth together causing that horrible scratch inside his skull.  They needed to talk.  Lauren would understand. 

Jason grinned.  "It's out the front of the ballroom and down the corridor past the potted palm."

"I'll be back."  She planted a smile on her face.  "Let's catch up in a bit."  She nodded at Anne and left.

"You got it.  So much to tell you!"  Anne waved after her.

Both of them watched Lauren stop at the bar grab two shots and head out.

"I'm going to go check things out."  Jason paused, giving him the code to follow.

No, he wouldn't allow Jason to berate him for doing the right thing.  They would have plenty of time when they got home.  All day he struggled and the moment he stepped into this hotel he had his answer to his dilemma on what to do with the situation.  The night this started it all made sense, and while amazing, incredible even, the fact was they couldn't be in public together and therefore they couldn't be together.  Not like how Lauren wanted and deserved. 

He swallowed down the sting in the back of his throat. "I'll catch you in a bit."

"Okay then."  Jason clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth and backed away.

"Shall we?"  Anne leaned into him.

He forgot she was there until she spoke.  "Shall we what?"

"Go get that drink?" 

"Whatever."  He motioned forward.

He followed Anne back to the bar. 

It was always him.  Always. 

***

At the age of ten, Jason slapped Russell across the head for ratting him out when Russell decided to be truthful and told the teacher he was doing his homework.  Russell tattled on him, and Jason got reamed out by his mother for hitting the boy he called his brother.

At the age of fifteen, Jason pushed Russell causing him to rip his pants when Russell wouldn't ask Susan Someone to the school dance because no other guys thought she was cool.  Russell ended up going alone, Jason went with Susan, and his mother gave him a hug for standing up for those who are different. 

At the age of twenty-one Jason was done with hitting and pushing, but he didn't talk to Russell for two days after he got a trendy foreign four door and not the 1960's muscle car he craved.  It wasn't that he didn't buy the car, but when Jason asked him why, Russell only said everyone had one of those cars and he wanted one too.  No one would understand the muscle car.  Jason told his father and the muscle car was purchased, fixed up and put into their arsenal.  Russell never drove it.

Now, at the age of twenty-eight, Jason decided physical force may return to his repertoire as he watched his best friend do everything in his power to not appear as if he was in a different kind of relationship.  Better than anyone, except maybe Laurie, he knew Russell wasn't ready to come out, so to speak.

Actually, maybe he didn't need to hit or shove.  Laurie appeared to be ready to do the job for him.  That, or take of her stiletto and impale Russell on it.   The last time he saw their girl, she had excused herself to the bathroom.  Her cheeks were splotched bright red in complete contrast to her pale skin, and by the gloss of her eyes, he knew she was blinking back tears, only their Laurie would never cry in public.