Mad & Marvelous

by Elizabeth Varlet

  Mr. Baylor smiled. “Roland has been singing your praises all evening.”

  “I’m sure he’s exaggerating out of pride. He’s taught me everything I know.”

  Roland laughed and clapped Rafe on the shoulder.

  “Rebecca is a ballerina with New York City Ballet.”

  “Wow, you must be talented.” Rafe smiled at her. She tucked her head, a blush rising to her cheeks. She was pretty in that daddy’s-girl kind of way. She had dark brown hair and a fresh face. She looked to be in her early twenties, but she dressed older like many of the girls did in Lockwood circles.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “How about drinks before dinner?” Roland asked.

  “I could use a whiskey.” Mr. Baylor shuffled behind Roland to the bar near the window. It was an obvious strategic move planned to give him and Rebecca privacy.

  “How long have you been in business with the Lockwoods?” Rebecca asked, so plainly Rafe could see the dollar signs in her eyes.

  “Since I was fourteen.” He tugged on his collar. “He took a poor chauffeur’s son and treated him like his own child.” Wasn’t that the party line? He was surprised she even had to ask.

  “He’s such a great man.”

  Keep it together, Marson. “He certainly is one of a kind. Tell me, what does your father do for a living?”

  “He used to be in real estate, but now he’s on the city council.”

  Ah, so that was how it was. Roland was trying to set him up with a councilman’s daughter. The coldhearted bastard, even marriages were only business deals dressed up in satin and decorated with roses.

  He wanted to get the fuck out of there, but no matter what Roland had planned Rebecca had nothing to do with it. Besides, sometimes the best defense was pretending to be defeated by the offense.

  The better he played the role of doting suitor tonight, the more surprised Roland would be tomorrow.

  He’d apologize to Rebecca later.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “The show will start soon. Until then we’ve prepared a plate of samples from the vendors we’re considering for catering during your event,” Rafe said.

  “Tell me there are drinks. The flight to New York was insane. I need a cocktail.” Prince unbuttoned his sequin-lined blazer and handed it to Gigi.

  “Of course, I can get a bottle of my favorite premium vodka straight from my private stash or I can make sure you have your own server.”

  “Private stash, huh?”

  “It’s a little too pricey for our typical clientele.”

  “I like expensive, let’s give it a try.”

  Rafe waved his hand to call the VIP server to Prince’s table. “You know the code to the liquor cabinet in the primary storage room?”

  “I do.”

  “Bring up a bottle of the Purity and some chilled glasses.”

  “Right away.”

  “So, Mr. Marson, I’ve been looking forward to this evening all grueling month. I hope you won’t let us down.”

  “I believe you’ll be blown away.”

  Because of his hectic schedule, he hadn’t had the chance to see the performances before Prince’s arrival, but he trusted Mark’s judgment.

  “And you’ve secured our star dancers?”

  “You wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t.”

  Prince’s grin was teasing. “Quite right, I’ve had Gigi keeping tabs on things covertly. She’s a good spy.”

  “Then she should have told you this is unnecessary. We could go up to my office and get the paperwork over with.”

  Prince laughed and Gigi joined him. “I do love a man of conviction.”

  Rafe had been serious, but he knew it was a long shot. “Get to know me better and you’ll start calling it bullheaded.”

  Rafe’s gaze landed on his general manager as Mark approached the table. “Speaking of bullheaded, Parker Prince, this is my right-hand man, the backbone of Switch, Mark James.”

  Mark shook Prince’s hand. “Pleasure to finally meet you.”

  Prince scanned Mark from head to toe. “So, you’re the brilliant one who hired the Sassy Boyz.”

  Mark actually preened under Prince’s perusal. “I don’t know about that.” His chuckle was part modest, part amusement. “The boss had the final say.”

  Prince waved his manicured fingers in Rafe’s direction. “He gives you all the credit. I’d take it if I were you.”

  “Well, okay, if you insist.” They shared a laugh that could have been considered flirtatious, if Rafe didn’t know that Mark was one hundred percent straight.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I should introduce you to my assistant, the always fabulous, Gigi McClain.”

  Gigi’s nod was full of amusement. “How do you do?”

  “Hello,” Mark said, sparing her a fast glance before refocusing on the magnanimous Parker Prince. “Are you finding everything satisfactory?”

  “At the moment, I want a cold glass of hard liquor and good conversation, but your boss insists on talking contracts and paperwork.”

  A sympathetic look came over Mark’s face. “He’s like that. All business, all the time.”

  “I can have fun,” Rafe protested.

  “Once in a hundred years,” Mark said, making Prince laugh.

  “Why don’t you join us, Mr. James?”

  “Oh, I couldn’t. I need to make sure everything runs smoothly. I wanted to say hello and let the boss know all the performers have arrived.”

  “You can spare a minute. Here, have a seat.” Rafe slid deeper into the booth to allow Mark a spot next to him. It didn’t take more than that for Mark to give in.

  Soon after, the server returned and poured Purity in Rafe’s chilled crystal glasses. They toasted to new ventures and great partnerships and for the first time in months, Rafe relaxed.

  They were ready for this. Prince was here and he was happy.

  There was nothing else to be done except enjoy the night.

  * * *

  “You shouldn’t even be standing. I can’t believe you’re going to dance.” Z scowled at Hop in the mirror.

  “It’s an important night,” Hop said. “And I’m fine, really. I won’t pass out.”

  “What’s so important about it? Why can’t you tell us?” Tam wasn’t usually the pushy one.

  “If everything works out, you’ll find out later.”

  “Vague bitch,” Z said.

  Ansel was being oddly quiet. His gaze kept straying to Hop. It was making him self-conscious.

  “Here, take this.” Jae handed him a pill and a bottle of water.

  “What is it?”

  “Multivitamin mix. I use them often. They will keep your energy high for a few hours and boost your immune system.”

  “Thanks.” Hop swallowed the pill, hoping Jae was right. He hadn’t exactly lied to Z, but he still wasn’t feeling in the best shape. But Rafe counted on them tonight and Hop couldn’t let him down. Too much depended on their success, even if he collapsed after the show, he’d slay this routine.

  “Hey, share the love.” Z wiggled his fingers at Jae.

  “Are you sick?” Jae asked.

  “Yep, the sickest.”

  Ansel snickered.

  They were the opening act. It was a lot of pressure and the gravity of their obligation hung heavy in the room like a thick fog. The Sassy Boyz weren’t a group that worried about what people thought of them. Usually. Maybe it was because they’d all worked so hard creating a masterpiece.

  And it truly was a masterpiece. They’d even mixed their own music and would open the show under black light. It was as unique as you could get.

  It would take more than a fading flu to keep Hop off the stage tonight. He needed to be part of this work of art. He smacked his lips and batted his las
hes in the mirror, admiring the paintjob.

  Jae had come up with the idea to use geometric shapes and shading to create a futuristic look. He’d given them all dramatic eyeliner and bright colors. Hop had turquoise triangles near the outer corners of his eyes, yellow dots, and a bright orange shadow. His lips were a pale pink that would seem incandescent under the lights.

  For their costumes, they’d gone with neon fishnets and glow-in-the-dark booty shorts, matching platform heels, and high-collar big-shoulder vinyl shrugs with piping that resembled Grecian armor. They’d rubbed glitter and paint on their chests and arms.

  They were neon sex warriors ready to turn the world on and start a wild orgy.

  The atmosphere was hushed and expectant as they made their way to the stage, the acts that followed theirs waved them on, wishing them luck. Hop found his mark and took a deep breath.

  This was it.

  Tonight, he’d help Rafe. It felt like a moment years in the making and as he stood there waiting for the music to start, he knew he loved Rafe.

  No matter what happened with Roland and the contract and the club, nothing would change that simple fact.

  Loving Rafe gave him the security he needed to shine brighter—to sparkle.

  The black light flipped on and the crowd stilled, their energy rising up to seep into Hop’s veins. It was way better than cold meds and vitamins combined. It fed his spirit and pumped him up. The Sassy Boyz created a mad picture straight out of an LSD dream.

  When the opening siren of “Cookie Thumper” by Die Antwoord came over the speakers, the Boyz swayed and twisted to the odd high-pitched chant and the audience fed off it like lovely little leeches.

  Then boom!

  The fast-paced beat of Korr-A’s “Fuck Me Like You Mean It” smacked them in the face and the lights changed to an insane strobe. The Boyz were lit in their full androgynous glory. It was a crazy mashup between two weird songs, but somehow Tam turned it into a carnal, animalistic expression of pure alien lust.

  It was hedonism turned on high.

  It was deliciously wicked.

  It was everything Hop lived for—bizarre, provocative, and fresh.

  They alternated between fast-paced hard-hitting moves and rhythmic confident swagger with everything dripping with in-your-face sexuality. Hop forgot he was sick, forgot his mother wasn’t speaking to him, forgot reality as he danced in the world they created under the glowing lights and hungry gazes.

  He became the exotic extraterrestrial demigod hypnotizing everyone with his strange and debauched dance. He was the snake charmer, and the universe was his captive.

  While he danced, there was no such thing as doubt or worry. There was no such thing as time.

  Whatever he wanted was within his reach. All he had to do was take it.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  “I thought we’d have to storm the castle to find you.”

  Rafe stilled. Malcolm’s voice was so out of place in the VIP section it took him a moment to recognize it. His stomach sank, and as if in slow motion, he turned his head to find the heir of Lockwood’s fortune grinning at him. Like sentinels on either shoulder stood the sonofabitch Craig and Rafe’s blind date from last night, Rebecca.

  “Malcolm.”

  Next to him, Mark cursed, his whole body going tense, which was like a spotlight for Prince and Gigi. Rafe could feel their curiosity from across the table.

  “Aren’t you usually locked up in the tower lording over the peasants? What are you doing down here?” Malcolm swept his gaze around the table in ignorance. Rebecca wasn’t so blind, unfortunately.

  “Oh my God! You’re Parker Prince, aren’t you?” Rebecca squealed. “I loved your last collection. Daddy bought me three pieces.”

  Prince held out his hand for Rebecca. “I appreciate it.”

  “I can’t believe we ran into you here of all places. I was telling my friend about your upcoming show. I’ve already got my tickets. I’m Rebecca Baylor. These are my friends Craig Miller and Malcolm Lockwood.”

  “I see.”

  Gigi leaned in and whispered something into Prince’s ear. Prince’s eyebrows rose and his eyes went cold. Rafe gritted his teeth, tapping Mark’s thigh so he could slide from the booth.

  “What are you doing here, Malcolm?”

  “It’s Friday night, we’re partying.”

  “I better go check on things,” Mark said, beating a hasty retreat.

  “Since when do you party at Switch? This isn’t your scene.”

  Malcolm tilted his head in a way that reminded Rafe of Roland, and suddenly he wasn’t the naive idiot heir anymore. He was calculating in his own right.

  “Why? Is there a reason I can’t be here?” The question was asked with so much hidden agenda, Rafe choked on it.

  Prince cleared his throat, drawing Rafe’s attention. “If you have business to deal with, we’ll be fine.” He sounded annoyed. Rafe couldn’t blame him, who wouldn’t be put off by this kind of drama?

  “I’ll just be a minute.” Rafe grabbed Malcolm’s elbow and dragged him to the stairs. Craig and Rebecca bustled after them. “I don’t know what you think you’re up to, but I have a club to run.”

  Malcolm shook him off like he was a pest, and smoothed his jacket with a sneer. “So run it, we’ll just be here enjoying the atmosphere and seeing the sights.”

  Rafe’s blood ran cold, his eyes found Craig’s and the vindication he saw told him exactly what he needed to know. Craig had opened his mouth, after all.

  Malcolm knew about Hop.

  As if the universe was against him, the lights dimmed and the Sassy Boyz took the stage. It was too late. The train was barreling straight at him and he didn’t have time to get off the tracks.

  “Holy shit.”

  “That’s him,” Craig said.

  Rafe pulled him by the lapels. “Say another word, and I’ll give you a repeat of last time.”

  “Pink hair, huh? Wait until Dad finds out.” Malcolm’s chuckle was vicious. “What a fucking freak his bastard has become.” He wouldn’t care that he’d destroy multiple lives. He’d probably enjoy the destruction.

  Craig struggled to push Rafe’s hands away. “You actually hired him?”

  “Who? What’s going on?” Rebecca, poor oblivious, Rebecca. She still didn’t realize she’d been a pawn.

  “Doesn’t matter, princess.” Malcolm winked at her condescendingly. “You’ve got bigger balls than I realized, Rafe. I’m kind of impressed.”

  “Just leave, Malcolm.”

  “Nah, I want to talk to him. He’s my half brother after all. Or should I say sister?” He let loose a cackle.

  Craig chuckled too. “Good one.”

  They were skipping down the stairs before Rafe could stop them.

  “Rafe?” Rebecca touched his arm. “Is something wrong?”

  “Go home, Rebecca. And stop hanging out with those assholes.” He started after Craig and Malcolm, but stopped to turn around. “I was never interested in you. I’m sorry I led you on.”

  “I know.”

  “You do?”

  She shrugged. “You think you’re the first guy who acted sweet to me only after he figured out who my father was?”

  “Find better people.”

  “Shouldn’t you know by now how our world works?”

  “It’s not my world. It never was.” And he was going to prove it.

  By the time he reached the crowded dance floor, the Sassy Boyz had already left and Craig and Malcolm had disappeared. Rafe stood in the middle of the room, strangers on all sides. Everything was falling apart. His future was slipping through his fingers, the life he’d built collapsing around him like a fragile house of cards. Had it been so tenuous the entire time? Had he been too consumed to realize how close he’d been to disaster?

  He
bent at the waist to suck air into his frozen lungs. The room closed in on him. There were too many bodies, too many eyes. Christ, he felt like he was drowning. All the fears and worries he carried around like boulders threatened to pull him under.

  With closed eyes, he pictured Hop—bright eyes, wide smile, and a rainbow of possibilities. A weight in his chest lifted.

  He had to protect Hop.

  He needed to defend what was his, whatever it took.

  * * *

  “You’re not allowed in there.”

  A commotion had Hop looking toward the dressing room door.

  “Let me in, I’m here to see my brother.”

  “Malcolm.” Hop grabbed the back of the chair he was standing behind.

  “Hello, Hopkins.” His smile was hard, like the look in his eyes. “My how you’ve changed.”

  The perfect picture of a spoiled son of a multibillionaire, he strode into the room as if he owned it.

  “When Craig first told me he’d run into you at Golden Boy’s club, I didn’t believe him. I said no way would you be stupid enough to show your face around Rafe. Then he told me that you were dressing up in women’s clothes and acting like a girl. It was too good to pass up, you understand.”

  “So, what?” Hop asked. “Now you’ve found me, what are you going to do?”

  “Enjoy the moment, for one.”

  Hop perched hands on hips. “Take a good long look, asshole. Even in heels and makeup I’m more of a man than you’ll ever be.”

  Malcolm snarled. “You are a fucking waste of sperm. My father should have sliced you out of your mother before you were born.”

  Ansel and Z both stepped forward.

  “Okay, asshole, time to leave,” Ansel said.

  “Why does everyone keep telling me to leave?” Malcolm threw his hands in the air. “I’m not going anywhere until I get pictures of that freak. You think I could sell them to the tabloids for some quick cash?”

  “Bitch, we’re in New York City. Is a man in heels really the strangest thing you’ve seen today?” Z asked.

  “Who the fuck are you and why are you talking to me?”

  By now a horde of witnesses had gathered around them. Hop’s anger reached volcanic levels. This was his space. Malcolm didn’t have power here. He gathered all the confidence he’d found submitting to Rafe, all the comfort and security that gave him strength, and pushed between his friends.