by Lee Savino
Looking past the more vibrant partygoers, Cora saw two guys standing in the corner, one dressed in a preppy polo shirt and the other in scuffed jeans and a faded t-shirt. Neither looked like they fit in but several models stood around flirting with the one in the polo shirt. Both guys were handsome, but they looked young, like they couldn’t be any older than Cora herself.
“Ok, I see two guys. Which one do you mean?”
“Well…” Olivia bit her thumbnail, eyes flicking between the two boys. “That’s the thing, I can’t decide. They’re college roommates, both these wunderkinds working together on some crazy exciting research in medical technology. Save the world kind of shit.”
She glanced back at Cora. “I might not look like it but I’m totally a sucker for a hero.”
Cora smiled. “So why don’t you ask one of them out?”
Olivia’s face scrunched. “Well, every time I see them out, they’re surrounded by…” She gestured rudely at the flock of bobble-headed women giggling and flicking their hair around the boys.
“The one on the right, Adam Archer,” Olivia indicated the blond in the polo shirt, “is the heir to Archer Industries.”
Cora let out a low whistle. “Whoa.” Archer Industries was one of the wealthiest companies in the nation, not just New Olympus. They were even regularly listed among the top ten wealthiest companies in the world.
“And the one on the left?” Cora asked.
“Logan Wulfe. Boy genius. No one knows anything about his family, but who needs to? He’s crazy smart and just look at him. Mmm mmm mmm. All dark and broody.”
Cora laughed. “So why don’t you ask him out?”
As they looked on, one of the models who’d been talking to Adam only moments before threw herself against Logan, arching her back and flipping her blonde hair, pushing her breasts up into his face. Logan’s brow wrinkled, his hands hovering in midair as if reluctant to touch what was freely offered.
Again Olivia’s face scrunched in amusement. “I dunno. I like the idea of him but I think…he’s a little bit…unseasoned for my tastes. These med school types. No time for relationships, but they can name all my body parts...in Latin. I prefer a man with more finesse.”
“A better bedside manner?” Cora deadpanned.
“Look at you, making jokes!” Olivia swatted her arm. Cora’s pink drink splashed everywhere, mostly right into a redheaded model’s path.
“Watch what you’re doing! Stupid bitch,” the model hissed. Out of the corner of her eye, Cora saw her bodyguard start forward, and she shook her head sternly.
He stopped and leaned back against the wall.
In the meantime, Olivia had jumped up and shouted, “Piss off!”
Everyone at the party turned to stare. Olivia tossed her head, proud to be the center of attention. “Armand! We need music.”
“Coming soon, delightful Olivia,” Armand called back from the entryway. “In fact, we have a special guest I’d like to introduce to everyone.”
A familiar figure stood next to Armand holding a guitar. Cora recognized The Orphan with just enough time to cover her ears. The excited screams of the women around her immediately followed as the fans rushed The Orphan immediately.
“Ladies, ladies,” Armand tried to fend them off. “He’s going to sing for you if you’ll let him.”
In the crush of bodies, Cora’s bodyguard looked distracted. But then, the riots The Orphan seemed to generate would be more than any single protector could handle. The room was filled with shrieking, girly chaos, the sort that would strike terror into a man’s heart.
Cora jumped up, ready for her opportunity. She waited until the poor bodyguard was pushed into the wall by some rabid models.
“Come on.” She grabbed Olivia and dragged her new friend out of the great room, back to where she saw some people disappear. The large kitchen was almost deserted except for some extra bottles of champagne and gorgeous young people in bunny ears opening them or lining serving trays with glasses.
Cora grabbed a filled glass and sipped it. The screams had died down and there were guitar sounds coming from the room they just left. Her bodyguard was probably sifting through the room now, looking for her.
“What’s wrong? You don’t like his music?”
I like it too much, Cora wanted to say. “We’ll never hear it over the screaming.”
“I don’t know how Armand got him here. He’s the hottest thing in this city right now.”
“I know. He plays at my husband’s club.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask you about that.” Olivia swigged champagne straight from the bottle. “How did you meet Mr. Lord of the Underworld?”
Cora winced at the reference to a newspaper article printed two years ago. “Please don’t call him that.” She set down her empty glass. “It’s a long story.”
“Cliff notes, please.” Olivia’s dark eyes glittered over the neck of the bottle.
Cora ran a hand through her hair. How to sum up her intense courtship? “He swept me off my feet. Gave me everything I could ever imagine. It was amazing.”
Olivia pressed a new glass into Cora’s hand. “Did you know about what he did for a living?”
Cora shook her head. “I didn’t find out until later.”
“So you didn’t target him?”
“What?”
“You didn’t find out he was wealthy and seek him out?”
Now the blood rushed to Cora’s face as she realized her new friend was accusing her of being a fortune hunter. “No, I didn’t know anything about him. He…helped me out of a situation. I knew he was wealthy, but that wasn’t why I—” Cora halted.
“Wasn’t why you?” Olivia prompted.
“Wasn’t why I fell in love with him.”
“You love him.”
Cora nodded, unable to speak. It was the first time she’d said it out loud after admitting it to herself at the concert the other night. Olivia seemed to accept her further silence on the topic, and gave up her interrogation. In the other room, the song had stopped or was drowned out by clapping and cheers.
“Champagne for everyone!” Armand shouted from the other room, and the bunny ears dutifully exited the kitchen carrying trays.
Olivia pulled Cora back to the party. The room had cleared out a little; The Orphan was getting a tour of the house with his shrieking entourage. A few models and revelers in pink wigs lounged on the couch, too drunk to sit upright. Cora’s assigned bodyguard was nowhere to be seen. He was probably searching the house for his missing charge.
Olivia pushed Cora onto an empty couch and pressed another glass of champagne into her hands.
“Didn’t mean to grill you back there.” Olivia sat next to her. “I just wanted to know what sort of person you are.”
“I understand,” Cora said. She realized the woman was apologizing to her.
Olivia shook her short hair and frowned. “I’m too blunt sometimes. But I find it saves time.” She turned towards Cora, who was sitting stiffly on the couch. “Here’s the deal, Cora. I like you. And I want to be your friend. But I want to know who you are first.”
“Okay.” Cora nodded. “Do you have any more questions for me?” Cora had wanted a friend, badly, and if Olivia was going to just drop in her lap like this, well, she didn’t mind jumping through a few hoops.
“Not right now. And if I ever pry too much, you can tell me to piss off, you know.”
Cora grinned.
“Like if I ask you whether you and Marcus would consider a threesome—”
“Olivia! Piss off.”
Olivia smiled into her champagne.
“I’m not sure if I should drink this.” Cora looked doubtfully at her second glass. “After two glasses I’m pretty much gone.”
“Well then bottoms up, babe,” Olivia ordered, and then shouted to Armand, who was walking by. “Oi! Cora’s a lightweight.”
Armand waltzed over, smiling enchantingly. “I’ll take good care of you, sweetness.”<
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Cora giggled. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” She sipped and hiccupped.
“Oo la la,” Armand laughed. “Cora, you’ve stolen my heart.”
Olivia kicked Armand to get his attention. “So how’d you swing The Orphan? I thought he was sworn off of performing anywhere.”
“Oh, for that we must thank Mrs. Ubeli,” Armand grinned. “Or, rather, her intimidating husband.” Two servers in bunny ears approached him and pulled him away.
“Well done, Ubeli.” Olivia gave Cora a wicked smile. “What do you give your husband when he’s good?”
“Olivia,” Cora smacked her new friend with a pillow.
Olivia giggled. “Aw, let’s make love not war.” Olivia leaned in, pretending to try to kiss Cora.
“Oh, my gods, my dreams have come true.” Armand was back standing over them, grinning ear to ear. He’d lost his two gorgeous escorts, as well as his faux vest.
Olivia’s lips detoured at the last minute and smacked Cora on the cheek. Gods, she’d even used a little tongue!
“Gross,” Cora sputtered, swiping at her cheek, and Olivia laughed.
“Later, bitch, I’m going to get more booze.” Olivia stalked off towards the kitchen again.
“Just you and me, kid.” Armand spread his arms, showing off his not unimpressive chest.
Maybe it was the drink. Maybe it was the freedom she felt that night. Cora took a chance because she’d always been curious about his tattoo. “Armand, turn around.”
Grinning ear to ear, he did.
The tattoo spread over his shoulders—white, angelic feathers, with the tips dripping black ink. The muscles of his back bunched at his shoulders and tapered to his waist. He lifted his arms and his pair of wings seemed to move.
“Oh, wow,” Cora reached out but pulled back just short of tracing the edge of a feather. It was so beautifully done. But then he turned and grabbed her hands, pulling her from her seat.
“Come with me, Cora, darling. You must see the view.”
She went eagerly. The alcohol had made her warm and the whole night felt like an adventure. And friends. Was she actually starting to have some genuine friendships? With people nearer her own age?
Armand led her through the hall and up an impressive staircase. She could hear people hollering up ahead as they toured the second floor.
“The house was built a century ago. The balcony overlooks the park—you can see all the way to one of the fountains.”
“Who lives here?” Cora carefully jogged up the stairs in her stilettos, scurrying to keep up with the fleet-footed Armand.
“A friend,” Armand said lightly. They came onto a landing and walked down a long hall, then through a room that led to gigantic French doors. Armand scampered ahead and pushed the doors open with a flourish, revealing a balcony.
“Oh, wow,” Cora breathed. The whole city glowed golden before her, spreading beyond the black forest of the park.
“See the fountain?” Armand stepped closer to her and pointed. Cora stood on tiptoe and craned her neck to see. Sure enough, there were lit geysers beyond the trees.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Yes, it is.”
Cora realized that Armand was hovering close to her, and stepped away. Oh. He didn’t think— “Thank you for the invite to the party. Maybe next time Marcus can come.”
He smiled down at her. “It’s good to see you out without him. You two seem stuck together.”
“Yes, well, we’re married now.” She waved her left hand to show off her ring finger. “And I like having quiet nights in.” It was true. She’d very much liked last night. Before the arguing, anyway.
“Boring.” Armand rolled his eyes. His fingers were busy in his hair, tousling the sexy dark locks, making them stand up as he struck a magazine model pose.
“What’s wrong with boring? Maybe I like boring.” She shoved him playfully. “I can be boring if I want.”
“I didn’t mean that. You’re anything but boring.” Armand’s dark eyes caressed her face.
“Whatever.” She turned back to look out at the view. “I’m planning on getting out more anyway. Having more fun.”
“Good for you. And I’m glad you came out tonight, princess, even if it took Olivia to finally get you past the ogre and out of your tower.”
Cora frowned but Armand just babbled on.
“I mean, whenever you come into Double M, all the stylists fight to work on you. You’re funny. And you actually have a brain.”
“Thanks,” Cora laughed. “I think.”
Armand waved his hand. “You know what I mean. You’re more than just a dumb trophy wife.”
“Is that what people think of me?”
“Look, it’s no secret what your husband does for a living. A lot of people think it’s better him than the family that used to run things.” Armand came close to her again, but she was too distracted thinking to notice. Dumb trophy wife.
“No one saw Marcus date, much less thought he’d marry. He has too much to hide. And then you show up, all naïve and innocent, a tasty little morsel for the big bad wolf. And he gobbled you right up.”
Armand chuckled, right in her face. “But you’re smart enough to know what’s going on. I mean, you can’t just stick your head in the sand, with the big shipment coming in and everything.”
Too late Cora tried to hide the question on her face.
Armand leaned over her, his eyes gentle. “He didn’t tell you.” His hand reached out and stroked her hair back from her face. “Oh, Cora. Naïve, innocent little Cora.”
She frowned and grasped him by the wrist. “Don’t touch me like that,” she glared. The alcohol in her wore away some of her softness. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say, but—”
“I’m sorry,” Armand also drew back from her, his dark hair falling in his face. He seemed to sober up, as if he had shown her more than what he meant to. “I think, I just was drinking and didn’t mean it.” He darted towards the French doors. “Stay up here as long as you want—I have guests to attend to.”
He scuttled down the stairs, leaving Cora rubbing her suddenly aching head. What the hell was that all about? Armand had never acted like that when she visited his spa, Double M, or Metamorphosis. He’d always been nice, if a little clingy, but she thought that was just his style. Tonight, she would’ve thought he was hitting on her except for the backhanded compliments.
She shivered in the cool night air. Weird night. First Olivia and then Armand. Maybe they were on something? Maybe she shouldn’t come to more parties, just stay home and ask her husband about his mysterious business. Big shipment coming in. It made sense, he was always headed to the area of town called the Styx, southeast near the docks.
So what if her husband didn’t share his business with her? She was a commodity to him, not a partner. Besides, maybe she really didn’t want to know.
Somewhere in the big house, a crowd of people were whooping loudly. Cora wondered absently where her bodyguard was. Probably searching the corners of this big, dark house.
“Mrs. Ubeli?”
Cora jerked up, arranging her features to be properly contrite. She turned, expecting to see the bodyguard.
The Orphan stood just inside the doors to the balcony. He wore his usual outfit of jeans and a white shirt. His head was bent and his hair was tousled, falling over his eyes.
“Christopher? Where is everybody?”
The singer gestured harshly, as if to hush her. “They’re in the movie room. It was dark and I slipped out.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Please.” He approached her, stumbling a little. Cora backed away, wondering if he was drunk. “You have to help me. No one else will.”
Goosebumps ran up her arms. “What’s wrong?”
“They took her.” His eyes were wild. “Iris. My fiancée. She went to pack up her apartment and get everything ready. We were going to elope.”
“And then she left and didn’t c
ome back?” Cora guessed. “Did you have a fight?”
“No. We’ve fought before, but not…not about this. They took her, so I’d keep playing.” He paced a little in front of the French doors, squeezing his hands together.
“Who do you think took her, Chris?” Cora asked, even though she could guess the answer.
“AJ. He wants me to play. He won’t let us go. I can’t play without her. He’s going to kill us both.” His voice raised a little.
“Shh, ok. Let me think.” Cora shivered as she glanced back at the city. The night suddenly seemed big and terrible. “Can you go to the police?”
“I have to wait forty-eight hours. Besides, they won’t let me go anywhere. The only reason I’m at this party is for some publicity thing.” The Orphan started pacing again. “They’re acting like it’s all normal, saying she’ll be back soon, that I just need to finish the concert series…but she’s not answering her cell phone. She always answers when I call. Or texts back if she can’t talk. They took her, I know it.”
“I can talk to my husband—”
“No.” The Orphan came towards her and Cora took a step back towards the balcony railing. “Please don’t. AJ will kill her if he knew Ubeli was involved.”
“Chris, then, I’m sorry. I don’t know how to help.” Cora held up her hands, feeling useless. “Where would I even look?”
The Orphan fumbled in his pocket for something. “The last text she sent me…she was stopping by The Orchid House. She used to work there.”
“The Orchid House?” Cora cast about trying to remember where she’d heard the name. Finest establishment in town, AJ had said.
“That’s AJ’s club. I can’t go there,” she whispered harshly.
“Cora?” a man’s voice called up the stairs. Both Cora and Chris’s heads jerked in the direction. It was Marcus. Dammit, she thought she’d have a little more time. He’d said he was busy tonight.
“I have to go,” she whispered.
“Please.” Chris held out a worn picture, old, taken in a photo booth. It was of Chris and beside him, Iris, beautiful with flawless mocha skin and pretty eyes. Iris was laughing. Cora stared at the image. So much happiness waving in front of her. Out of reach.
