Ben sticks the key in the ignition and turns slowly, and the engine purrs, growls, rumbles. "I got it because it's badass. I like a car with character. And also, if it turns out we need to fight demons, hey. We've already got the car."
They haven't been on the road for five minutes when she opens the one topic he never, ever wants to talk about again.
"Promise me you'll apologize to Daniel tonight."
Ben sighs heavily. "All right. Okay. Fine. I will apologize to the man-child."
"I'm going to tell him you called him that," she mutters.
"Oh, great." Ben yanks the gear shift. "I'm sure that'll help things a lot."
"Just try to be, like, slightly sensitive, okay? This doesn't call for your usual laissez-faire management style."
"You have no idea what my usual management style is," Ben points out. "Here's a hint, it doesn't typically involve spankings for naughty girls who need to learn when they've overstepped their boundaries."
He meets her eyes in the rearview, and they're sparkling.
"Well, thank God for that," Jenna says. "But do me a favor and tell him you're sorry."
Ben grins. "Make it worth my while."
The corner of her mouth quirks up. "If you want to christen every car you own, it's going to take a lifetime."
"Good," he says, glancing for the nearest exit sign. "Better get started, then."
***
"We'll be late."
Adrian's eyes plead halfheartedly with his wife as her hand inches toward his thigh.
"Since when do you care?" she breathes, fingers finally coming to rest mere centimeters from where he really wants them. "Just pull over."
His tongue flicks across his lips. "You'll ruin your nice dress," he insists, keeping as much of a poker face as he can manage.
"Who says it's not already ruined?"
Adrian can only play hard-to-get for so long. He jerks the wheel, skidding off into a scenic overlook that is blissfully empty on this winding, semi-rural road.
"Trust me," he growls. "You don't know the meaning of the word ruined."
***
"I can't believe I'm actually doing this."
Daniel's knuckles are white as he grips the wheel. His wife takes a deep breath and touches his arm lightly.
"It'll be good for you," she says. "Good for your...you know, brand."
His knuckles only turn whiter.
"It's only going to make it more obvious," he says. "How...not normal I am."
"You are normal," Maddy insists. "I mean - in the realm of...okay, look, you're not normal. Neither am I. Nobody's normal. If you talk to half the people in that room, I guarantee you they feel at least slightly similar to how you feel. They don't really want to be there, but they feel like they have to. We're all pretending, a little bit. There's no such thing as people who are one hundred percent comfortable in their skin all the time."
"What about that author you're so excited to meet?" Daniel glances at her. "What is he, an alien?"
"I'm sure he has insecurities," Maddy mutters, folding her arms across her chest. "Are you jealous?"
"I don't get jealous," Daniel insists. "I'm only concerned that he might not live up to your expectations. And he's certainly an obnoxious narcissist. That 'hero' is him, you realize that, right?"
"Of course it is," Maddy replies. "James Bond is Ian Fleming, Hawkeye is James Fenimore Cooper - that's how everyone writes. An idealized version of themselves. Doesn't make him a narcissist."
"Narcissists, all of them." Daniel waves a dismissive hand. "Temper your expectations, that's all I'm saying."
"Jealous," she mutters.
He glances at her, with an almost-not-quite smile playing on his lips. "What if I was? I'm allowed."
"Come on." She meets his gaze, sidelong, her eyes half-closed. "I don't care how good of a wordsmith he is, I'd never do the things for him that I'll do for you."
"For instance?" Daniel reaches out and captures her hand, holding it firmly in his own while he holds the wheel firmly with the other.
She quirks an eyebrow at him. "If I didn't know better, Sir, I'd think you were implying I should do something very dangerous and illegal."
"Interpret it how you will." He smiles, darkly. "But if you want to make one single aspect of this night remotely worth my while, you'll do as you're told. And you'll like it, too."
"You haven't told me to do anything." She licks her lips, glancing at his lap. "You know if we get pulled over, all the stories about you are going to take a really different turn."
"That's a sacrifice I'm willing to make," he tells her. "But it's not going to happen. I've got very steady hands, as well you know."
"I don't know," she says, playing demure. "We might get caught."
"We won't," he says. "Besides, if you put me in a good enough mood, I'll let you drive on the way home."
Her eyes narrow slightly. "Is that a...are you...speaking metaphorically, or...? I mean, I can't quite figure out how you would...never mind," she finishes, finally, seeing him roll his eyes. "Sorry. I should know better than to question your, uh, ability to work out difficult logistics."
She re-situates herself in her seat, leaning towards him.
"Wait," he says. "Take your hair down."
Maddy hesitates. "I'll never get it back up again."
Her husband smiles. "Good."
***
The house is massive.
From the outrageous fountain in the centerpiece of the round driveway, to the immaculately trimmed miles of hedges, to the gold filigree detailing along the wainscoting, everything speaks of wealth and excess. The place is immaculate, gleaming, and yes - Tony Montana's wet dream, more or less.
All three couples arrive at more or less the same time - fashionably late, all of them, unbeknownst to each other, for more or less the same reason.
Now, they're all standing just inside the front door, and nobody's talking.
The tension between two of the men is almost palpable. Adrian stays quiet, for once, trying to judge the situation. Maddy and Jenna haven't really spoken in any meaningful way since their husbands started feuding; it wasn't intentional, but their silence hangs like a shadow over the whole friendship.
The clock ticks loudly in the corner, the only sound in the high-ceilinged foyer. Someone clears their throat, and Maddy shifts her weight from one foot to the other. The rustling of her dress is harsh in the deafening silence.
Finally, it's Meg who speaks.
"Does anyone else get the feeling we're going to be systematically murdered over the course of evening?"
Jenna snorts. She and Maddy exchange a look, and then a giggle. Ben starts chuckling and then even Daniel cracks a smile.
"I really hope our host heard that," Adrian says, giving his wife a look. She shrugs, and Jenna steps forward.
"Jenna Chase," she says, extending her hand. "Of course you're Meghan Risinger."
"Meg," the redhead corrects her, with a grin. "I guess the rumor mill has been churning."
"The way my wife tells it, you're the most interesting man in the world." Ben shakes Adrian's hand firmly. "She was very excited to meet you."
Jenna's blushing. "Not very," she corrects, as Adrian kissing the back of her hand with a flourish. "Just, you know, interested. You're kind of..."
"An oddity," Meg chimes in, eyeing him sidelong. "Billionaire who writes billionaire romance. I know. But he puts his pants on one leg at a time, just like everybody else."
"Shut up, you're ruining my mystique." He kisses Maddy's hand next, who only blushes a little.
"I love your books," she says, staunchly ignoring her husband's long-suffering sigh. "It's so great to finally meet you."
"Well, I'm afraid the reality is a little bit disappointing," Adrian says with a smile. "Ask my wife about how she caught me eating Count Chocula right out of the box the other day."
The other two women just giggle, his human side just making him all the more appealing. Meg rolls
her eyes and gives him a look. Careful.
What? he mouths.
She just rolls her eyes again.
"Maddy, I really like what you did with your hair," she says, to break the silence once again. "Who's your stylist?"
A soft snort of laughter comes from one of the men, but it's impossible to trace.
"Uh, I did it myself," says Maddy, after only a moment's hesitation. "With a little help from a friend."
Daniel is almost smiling.
Almost.
Finally, the butler - yes, an actual white-gloved butler - comes out to let them into the ballroom. Adrian is pretty sure they were only kept waiting to appease the will of their host, Conrad Wolverton. It's a move that is only slightly subtler than actually dangling his balls in their faces.
Billionaires, as Meg has observed on more than one occasion, are often obsessive when it comes to proving their superiority over other human beings. It's a side effect of secretly fearing you don't really deserve anything you have, she believes, although Adrian thinks it's just a character defect that is more prevalent in moneyed families.
Meg frequently reminds him that being self-deprecating doesn't actually make you a better person. And he frequently flips her off, although he knows that she's right.
"Please, come in," the butler says. Maddy decides she is going to call him Jeeves in her head, because it brings some levity to the situation. "I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting."
"I bet you are," Ben mutters, and Adrian instantly likes him.
Adrian can't help but notice that Ben keeps glaring at Daniel's back like he's wronged him somehow, but he figures it might be too early to start cross-examining him.
Then he sees the ballroom, teeming with sleek overdressed automatons holding unthinkably expensive glasses of champagne they're not actually drinking, because it probably tastes like ass, and he thinks: ah, fuck it.
He grabs two glasses from a passing server's tray, and holds one out to Ben.
"Oh," says Ben, distractedly. "Thanks."
"You looked like you could use it." Adrian eyes his own glass, suspiciously. "There's nothing worse than spending the evening at a party with friends you'd rather not see."
Ben's eyes are searching the room for his wife, who's been instantly accosted by several tittering "fans." She is certainly the most recognizable face among them, but Ben suspects they don't care so much for her as they do for the notion that she might have Charlie Hunnam's phone number.
"She'll be fine," Adrian says. "Didn't I see her on one of the Law and Orders last week?"
Ben nods, still distracted. "Yeah, she keeps busy. I guess she'll be the popular one tonight."
"Must be tough."
"Huh?" Ben actually looks at his face, finally. "Oh, right. Yeah. I guess? I'm just happy she gets a chance to do what she loves. But it does pull her away, a lot."
"I tend to resent strangers on the street looking at my wife," Adrian admits, scratching absentmindedly at his impeccably-groomed beard. "I don't think I could handle her being on TV."
"Well, you know." Ben shrugs. "I mean, I like to think I'm pretty evolved. But I did hire a team of lawyers to crush NudeCelebsNow.com after they posted a bunch of screen-grabs of her in a thin white tee-shirt on Justified and talked about her nipples." Ben's jaw clenches.
"That was you?" Adrian stares at him, equally parts awed and terrified. "Uh, I mean - never heard of it. Nude Celebs what now?"
Ben shrugs again. "I know. Your values really change once you're married to an actress. I've already offered plenty of apologies to my thirteen-year-old self, but I don't know if he's forgiven me yet."
The conversation's derailed, but Adrian is still terribly curious about the obvious tension between Ben and Daniel. Does it have something to do with the newspaper articles? He wracks his brain, trying to remember if any of them name-dropped Ben as a source.
"He's mad at me because I slept with his sister," Ben says, after a moment of silence. "I can tell you're curious. That's it. That's the whole story."
"Wait..." Adrian frowns at him, then at Daniel, then at Jenna.
"Years ago," Ben clarifies. "I'd just gotten out of a long-term relationship and I was...well, I was in the state of mind where you think sleeping with your best friend's sister is a good idea. And - I mean, in my defense, she was all over me. Not that I can't say no, but I didn't want to. She's goddamn beautiful. She's..." He hesitates, glancing at Daniel and then back at Adrian. "...I mean, never mind. It doesn't matter. The point is.."
Adrian's snickering. "You were going to tell me she looks like him, weren't you?"
"No!" Ben insists. "Because that would be an insane baseline comparison coming from one straight man to another." He hesitates. "I...assume?"
"Correctly," says Adrian. "But I'm not blind. I get your point. Still, you don't sleep with your friend's sister."
"Well, I did. It's in the past. Damage is done. So why is it suddenly an issue now?"
"That's a good question, actually." Adrian takes a sip of the champagne, and makes a face. "How did it become an issue? Has he known all this time?"
"Well, no." Ben drifts towards a tray of tiny beef Wellingtons. "I might've...told him."
"Sorry, I didn't catch that." Adrian grabs a handful of the little pastries. "Did you say you told him? He was never going to find out, and you rubbed it in the man's face like a naughty puppy? What's wrong with you?"
Ben sighs heavily. "Obviously, I have some kind of severe personality defect. You and my wife can discuss it later, if you want. The point is, it's done, I can't undo it, but I don't think I need to fall all over myself apologizing. I don't even think it's me he's mad at."
"Perhaps not." Adrian beckons over another server with a tray of shrimp cocktails. "But do you really think he wants to be dealing with you on top of everything? Just tell him you're sorry, say five hail Marys, whatever it takes."
Ben's mouth twists slightly. "I'm going to tell you something, for no reason other than the fact that you're currently in the room, and you seem pretty sane, and you don't already know my wife. Because you cannot tell her. Seriously. Promise me, Adrian."
"Of course," says Adrian, mildly. "Why would I tell her?"
"She's very persuasive. Just. Please."
"I promise I won't even talk to her. Cross my heart, and hope to die."
"All right." Ben lets out a deep breath. "Here's the thing..."
Chapter Three
"I fail to see why this matters," says Meg, handing her husband a glass of punch. "Like, at all."
"I didn't know there was punch." Adrian looks deeply hurt. "I've been trying to choke down that swill he calls champagne." He shakes his head, coming back to the point. "Anyway. Trust me, it matters. There's some heavy shit going on between those two, and apparently it's very important that Jenna not find out. So. Now you know." He makes a vague gesture with his free hand. "Do with it what you will."
"Now I have to be responsible for this feud?" She glares at him. "I'm just going to skirt this whole issue by not talking to Jenna all night. There. Problem solved."
The corner of Adrian's mouth quirks up. "I mean, you could. But I heard she's going to be on American Horror Story next year. I heard she's seen the script."
Meg's nostrils flare as her resolve weakens. "You fight dirty, Ryn."
"So dirty." His eyes sparkle. "Go on, babe. We can straighten this out, between the two of us. Just tell her the truth, and she'll understand what's going on, and...look, I'm not sure what's going to happen, but the truth always has to come out eventually. Right? Nothing's going to get better as long as people keep lying to each other."
Meg shakes her head. "That's a pretty funny philosophy, coming from Natalie McBride. But, fine. Okay. If the opportunity presents itself, I'll tell her what you told me. But if shit gets real, we're leaving. Immediately. Don't drink too much of that punch - I want you sober enough to drive home. Speaking of which..."
"...because I was hoping we could fuck in the
car, and I'm sick of drivers knowing all my private business," Adrian finishes. "That's why I drove us here myself. Go on. Fly, little bird. Fly."
***
Conrad Wolverton arrives.
The moment he steps into the room, all of the women who've been gathered around Jenna scatter like birds. They flock to him in formation, and he smiles, smoothing his white hair back on his skull.
"So that's the guy who's so desperate to sell his house," Maddy mutters, to no one in particular.
"Apparently," says Adrian. Since the rest of the guests have started gravitating towards the host, they're some of the only ones left. Ben and Daniel still aren't making eye contact, and Meg hasn't figured out how to approach Jenna yet, though she's almost visibly vibrating with excitement at the idea of learning American Horror Story's secrets.
"So you heard the rumor too." Maddy sidles closer to him. "Are you thinking about buying it?"
"God no." He chuckles. "It's hideous, isn't it? I teased my wife about it, I think I might've fooled her, but the downside is she might be concerned about my mental health."
He cringes slightly, realizing what he's said. But Maddy doesn't seem to notice.
"It's pretty gross," she agrees, eyes scanning the room. "I mean, I've seen worse. But it's...yeah, it's pretty gross."
A beat of silence passes.
"So, you're a Dirk and Amanda fan, then?" Adrian says, somewhat hesitantly. He's taken with the odd feeling that Daniel can somehow hear everything he says, from several light-years away on the other side of the room.
Maddy smiles, a little shyly. "Yeah. I guess I'm a sucker for those boss and secretary stories."
"Well, it makes sense." He glances at her, but she shakes her head a little.
"I was never his secretary. The blogs always get that wrong. I was a graphic designer. Barely talked to him before he..." She hesitates. "...before he first asked me out."
"Wow, just like that?" Adrian looks over at Daniel again, with something like awe. "He just...decided he liked you, and asked you out?"
"Yeah, you know. Like you do."
Adrian's trying to reconcile this revelation with everything the papers have been saying about Mr. Thorne lately, and it's not making a whole lot of sense. Granted, he had his own reasons for delaying things with Meg indefinitely, but he's starting to feel distinctly cowardly by comparison.
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