by D. B. Watson
“Why did you do that?” asked Jamie.
Patrick got a whiff of two scents. One of soap, and the other of an expensive fragrance he recognized in an instant. Yuri’s cologne. The same one that once covered his clothes and body after Yuri ravished him. Yuri breaking up with him over the phone came rushing back. Patrick held it together as he ignored Jamie’s question and asked one of his own.
“So, you’re Jamie Stewart?” Patrick asked, stepping back with a smirk on his face.
“As I live and breathe.”
Patrick ignored him. “I have to say, Yuri did a suitable job with cleaning you up, only—the stench is still there.”
Jamie frowned at Patrick’s comment. He grabbed the collar of his top and sniffed it, finding no unpleasant odor.
Patrick smirked, shaking his head at the confused man. “It’s not a scent,” said Patrick. “It’s a way of being.” Patrick enjoyed the confused look his statement made on Jamie’s face. “How should I put it?” Patrick tilted his head. “You can wash and dress them, but trash will always be trash. Understand?”
Jamie’s muddled look turned to contempt toward Patrick.
Patrick snubbed him and reached over and restarted the elevator, returning to the opposite side, leaning on the rail.
Jamie met guys like Patrick in his school who perceived they were above him in all aspects. He’d loathed them, but in his own way, he got his revenge. Either by playing a prank on them or outright punching them, but not in the presence of any faculty. In this case, he would hear it from Yuri if he struck Patrick, so he had to hurt him with his words. He promptly hit the stop button on the elevator,
Patrick lost his balance but regained it, glaring at Jamie.
“I met a lot of guys like you from school,” began Jamie.
“Yuri’s sending you to school. Well, la-di-da.”
“And I came to realize that a lot of you are insecure.”
“And you opened a book. Good for you.”
“I understand you’re jealous of Yuri’s and my relationship.”
Patrick rolled his eyes at Jamie and shook his head. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”
“I know your relationship with Adam is shaky.”
Patrick snapped his attention back to Jamie and gave away his feelings.
“Didn’t Adam tell you? He’s my bodyguard.”
“I’m aware of it,” said Patrick, turning his attention away.
“The way Adam protected me when those men broke into the penthouse.”
“What?” asked Patrick, losing his complacency.
“Didn’t he tell you? How he put himself in harm’s way to shield me. He was incredible, fighting two against one.”
Patrick was unaware Adam had put himself in danger—again. Tension grew in his stomach at the conception of Adam getting injured or killed.
“I’m much safer with Adam around,” said Jamie.
“He’s only doing his job. Once Yuri ships you off to school, they’ll be over you.”
“Is that a hint of jealousy in your tone?” asked Jamie.
“You should try opening your eyes and discover who Yuri and Adam are looking at,” said Patrick, aware of his and Jamie’s likeness.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Jamie.
“Oh, nothing that looking in a mirror wouldn’t solve.” Patrick walked over and reached to turn on the elevator when Jamie grabbed his wrist. “Let go of me,” Patrick ordered.
“Not until you tell me what you mean by that.”
“Oh, come on, you haven’t figured it out? Such a shame.” Patrick wrenched his wrist free from Jamie’s grip and restarted the elevator.
“Rich boys like you think you can say or do whatever you like.”
“That’s how our fathers raised us,” Patrick said.
“Then what are you doing with Adam? He’s more like me than you.”
“He’s nothing like you. Adam comes from a loving family, as do I. Our bond is deeper than anything you’ll ever encounter.”
“So you say.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Maybe you should open your own eyes and see the pretend merry life with Adam is just a fantasy you invented. Much like the one you had with Yuri. Before he tossed you aside—for me.”
The slap came with such force it even shocked Patrick, but he didn’t stop there.
“You’re nothing but backwoods trash stuck on the bottom of Yuri’s shoe. He’s realizing that because he’s shipping you out of his life.”
The doors opened and Yuri stood, seeing Jamie and Patrick together. The similarities between the two stunned him. “What’s going on? Jamie, what’s wrong?” he asked, concerned. He was covering his bruised cheek.
Patrick held his tongue as he stormed past his former lover, who tried to stop him by reaching for his hand. Patrick avoided Yuri’s grasp and hurried off.
Yuri turned to Jamie, who moved to Yuri and embraced him.
Patrick rushed out of the Duet and waited as the doorman flagged down a cab for him just as his cell phone rang.
“Hello,” he said, trying to calm his shaking voice.
“Patrick. Are you all right?” asked Drusilla.
“Mother,” he said, taking a deep breath, and letting it out before answering. “I’m fine. Just had a busy day. Did you get my text about the caterer?”
“Yes, thank you for doing that for me.”
“No bother.”
“Did you get fitted for your suit with Michael?”
“Yes, and I loved it. He’s having it delivered to the manor tomorrow morning.”
“Wonderful, I’ll tell Shilo.”
“So, we’ll see you tomorrow.”
“That’s why I’m calling. I’m wondering if you could come down today.”
“Today? Well—”
“I know it’s short noticed but the preparations are getting a bit much.”
“You’re not overdoing it, are you?”
“There’re tasks that need my attention.”
“You have people for that.”
“You know I oversee these things. It just happens that it’s become harder.”
“What about Father?”
“Please don’t worry him over this. I’m fine, I swear.”
“I guess Adam and I can come down tonight.”
“Could you—come now?”
“Now? I don’t know. I should talk to Adam.”
“Please, Patrick,” she said, getting frantic.
“Okay, okay, calm down Mother, I’m coming. I’ll call Adam and explain everything to him.”
“Thank you, Patrick.”
They disconnected just as the cab pulled up. Patrick climbed in and informed the driver of his destination. He pressed one number on his cell to speed-dial Adam. He waited, and the connection sent him to Adam’s voice mail. Which meant he was working. Patrick thought over the situation and called the office, hoping he was there. Justin answered.
“Adam Potter Detective Agency, this is Justin. How can I help you?”
“Justin, it’s Patrick.”
“Of course it is.”
Patrick held his tongue at Justin’s comment.
“I need to speak to Adam.”
“He’s not here, call his cell.”
“I did, it took me to his voice mail.”
“Then he’s working.”
“No shit!” Patrick snapped. “Look, I need to get in touch with him.”
“Then text him.”
“Fuck!” snapped Patrick, hanging up. “Text him!” he sneered.
The driver glanced in his rearview mirror after Patrick’s outburst. Patrick ignored him.
I need to speak to him, Patrick thought. He had no choice; he texted Adam his change of plans and told him to call him back as soon as possible.
CHAPTER 21
LEAve a messAGE
Patrick arrived at the estate. He was greeted by Shilo, wearing a charming pantsuit, who s
tood with two female staff members. Both wore a traditional black dress with a white apron on top. They opened the cab door for him and as he climbed out, someone paid the cab driver his fare with a tip.
“Shilo,” said Patrick, smiling at his mother’s woman. “I wasn’t expecting you to greet me.”
“Your mother asked me to, Young Valdez, and I was happy to.” They walked side by side up the stone steps to the main door. “Your mother is in the green room having lunch. She asked that you join her.”
“Thank you. Shilo?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Is my mother well?”
“She is.”
They reached the front door that someone held open for them, but Patrick hesitated.
“I mean, really well. She’s not having any problems with her heart?”
“No, sir. In fact, the doctor was just here, giving her a physical, and gave her a clean bill of health.”
“Well, that’s good.” He entered the house, and two more female staff members greeted him with smiles. One took his coat, and he thanked them as he walked with Shilo through the grand house.
“I’m here to help with the party,” said Patrick, glancing at his cell phone for a response from Adam, but none were there.
“Yes, your room is ready, and we will pick up your and Detective Potter’s things tonight.”
“Yes, that’s just it. Adam is working and hasn’t returned my text, so I couldn’t tell him about the change of plans.”
“Well then, we’ll wait until he contacts you before going over.”
“No, that’s not necessary. It’s fine. I know he packed a bag, but I still need my things packed.”
“That won’t be a problem. I’ll send Cora to help with your things.”
“Thank you, Shilo.” Patrick reached into his pocket and removed his key handing it to her.
They reached the doors to the green room.
Shilo opened the double sliding door and stepped aside for Patrick to enter. The green room had high ceilings with high framed windows that dominated most of the wall space. Greenery conquered both sides of the windows. An iron-legged, heavy oak oval table sat in the middle of the room covered with an earth-tone tablecloth.
Patrick didn’t see his mother at the table set for the afternoon meal. Instead, he spotted her viewing photos on her digital camera by the window. She spoke on her cell phone to someone named Ryan. Patrick waited until she finished with her call.
“Make sure the photos are on his desk by tomorrow. Remember, this client is a large donor to the charity. I don’t want him pulling out because of poor service.” She paused, glancing out the window. “Excellent Ryan. I knew I could count on you. Goodbye.” Drusilla hung up and turned back to the table. To Patrick, she looked healthy and splendid as always. When she saw her son, a brilliant smile spread across her lips. She lowered her camera and placed it on a nearby table, moving toward him. She had pinned her black hair back from her face, leaving it flowing down her back. She wore a simple cotton dress that buttoned up the front, with roman sandals. Her slim frame was only visible when she walked.
“Patrick, you’re here,” Drusilla said, hugging her only child.
“How are you?” he asked as they separated.
“I’m fine now that you’re here. Come, let’s eat, I’m famished.” They sat, and right away two servants served their meals. “So,” said Drusilla. “I hear Yuri Jin is back in town.”
The vision of Yuri kissing him popped into his head. Patrick’s blushed and avoided eye contact with his mother. “Yes,” he began, trying to push the thought out of his head. “He was having coffee with Father.”
“Yes, and your father mentioned that you were working as his server.”
“Yes. I got a job. Then, I lost it by causing a fire.”
“You were in the kitchen?”
“Yes.”
“I see.” Her tone wasn’t callous, but sympathetic.
Patrick remembered something in his defense. “Also, Adam showed me how to clean dishes and cook, but—I cut my finger.”
“So, Adam is domesticating you?”
“He’s showing me how to take care of myself.”
“So you don’t depend on Merry Maids?”
“Mother, I liked—cleaning and cooking with Adam. It brings us closer.”
“Something none of the others did?”
“They all took care of me, except Gavin. And so does Adam. But with Adam, I feel like I can take care of him.”
“Then, if that makes you happy, how can I argue with that.”
“I wish Father would understand like you. This weekend will be a significant chance for me and Adam. Father will see how happy we are and accept our relationship.”
“I’m rooting for you both.”
After lunch, Drusilla showed Patrick the areas of the house where the party would take place and the wing of the house where the guests would retire to. Patrick’s room was in a private wing where his parents slept, down the hall. He couldn’t wait for Adam to share his room—and bed.
“We’ll open the courtyard if the weather permits,” Drusilla said. She gazed out of two glass doors that led to the courtyard connected to the middle of the house. All three floors had cast-iron balconies. They overlooked the lavish view of floral vines, cobblestone, and Old-World décor. Strings of small, colorful lanterns crisscrossed over the yard. They extended to the third floor.
“This is one of my favorite places here,” said Patrick. His mother glanced at him and noticed his mind was on something else.
“We hope to see you married here, and your reception held here in the courtyard.” Patrick blinked away his thoughts and looked at her.
“Would you both still want that, if the groom was Adam?”
“If he is who you love—then yes.”
“Are you speaking for yourself, Mother?”
“For both of us,” said his father. They turned to see Raoul dressed in no tie or suit. He wore a button-up top with relaxed slacks. He held a small gift bag with colorful tissue wrap sticking out the top.
“You’re home early,” Drusilla said, moving toward him. Patrick watched as they embraced. Raoul looked toward his only son and smiled. He held his wife in one arm and opened his other arm to welcome his son into his hold. Patrick went to his parents and wrapped his arms around his mother and father.
“This is a greeting I could get used to again,” said Raoul, as they parted.
“So, all your work is complete for this weekend?” asked Drusilla.
“As requested, they will not disturb me for the next three weeks,” said Raoul.
“Wonderful. This will be a perfect weekend,” said Drusilla. A light flashed outside in the courtyard. The boom in the sky came a few seconds after, and the drops of water began tapping at the glass as the rain fell. “Well, almost perfect,” she sighed. Raoul pulled her close to him.
“Never fear, my sweet. I checked the weather forecast and they swore on their lives there will be no rain during your celebration.”
“Our celebration,” she corrected.
“I celebrated the day you said yes,” he said, handing the bag to her.
They retired to the library. Raoul and, Drusilla sat on a love seat still holding the gift while Patrick walked over to a nearby window and watched the pouring rain.
Shilo entered with hot tea and cookies, placing the tray on the coffee table in front of the couple.
“Raoul, I thought we decided no gifts, since we’re throwing a party?” asked Drusilla.
“There was no way I would not shower my wife with gifts on this amazing day.”
“But I—Raoul—”
Raoul grabbed his wife and pulled her in for another kiss.
Drusilla could feel the world spinning as the embrace consumed her.