27. The Sharpest Lives

CHAPTER 27

THE SHARPEST LIVES

MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE

Loud music from a party fills the air as we travel down the obnoxiously long driveway toward the obnoxiously large house. Dani is in the back seat, fixing her makeup and hair. Jamie is driving with knuckles so white I'm surprised he hasn't broken the steering wheel. I'm still trying to figure out why the fuck we agreed to this. Dani owes us both. Big time.

We should have bailed, but we spent all day Monday and Tuesday working hard and getting ready for our trip. We thought we could use the break. This entire party is a mistake.

"So, remind me again why the fuck we're here?" I rest my hand on Jamie's thigh, giving in a gentle squeeze, hoping to ease some of his tension.

"Okay, so like, Rafael is the guy I'm meeting here. He's the artist. Anyhow, it's some big engagement party thing that they're writing off as an art exhibit." She spreads bright lipstick over her lips and makes a loud popping noise. "Rafael has a few pieces in it, of course, and he asked me to come out and to bring friends. He went to school with Tommy or something. So, maybe I have a legitimate shot with a cute, potentially rich artist. He also makes movies, and I kind of want him to do a video for my band."

"Great," James grumbles. "Tommy isn't going to leave you alone once he finds out you're my girlfriend."

When Dani sent us the address, James said it sounded familiar. As soon as he pulled up the map, I knew tonight was going to be a shit show. His face paled, then hints of red started poking up from under his shirt collar. Tommy Halpine has been an issue for James since he was a kid. It took some prying, but evidently, Tommy is the prick that tried to beat James up in school when Chase Cooper came to the rescue. In some ways, he's the reason they're such close friends, but he's still a bully and a dick, so they don't give him that credit—rightfully.

"Aww! You two are official in less than a week. Cute." Dani opens the camera app on her phone to check her makeup and applies even more lip gloss. "Less than a weekend, really. I can't talk though. If Rafael asked me to go to Vegas and get married tonight, I would. Mostly because I know kick ass divorce lawyers exist in LA. Wait, how do you know Tommy?"

"We went to school together. Don't you remember? I'm the one who introduced you to Raf." He looks at her in the rearview with a scowl. He's trying to keep his emotions inside, but that anger is fighting hard to escape. "He used to date Steve?"

"He did? Wait, Steve is gay? Your Steve dated my Raf?"

"Steve is…complicated."

"Oh, I kind of remember that now! So glad I didn't invite Steve!" She lunges forward, pointing. "Hey look, that's Rafael's car! Park here!"

"How can you tell? There's ten cars just like it." I reply.

"Because I know his bumper stickers? Anyhow, we're just here to mingle and get smashed on free booze and rich people food. Like we're crashing it, but we have an invitation. So everyone needs to stop stressing out and try to have a good fucking time, okay? Do not cock block me!"

"Literally the opposite of crashing it, Dani." James groans and parallel parks into a tight spot on the side of the road. He looks in the mirror. "If either of these cars could just, you know, tap the Jeep?—"

"They'd have four lawyers find ten witnesses saying it was you who hit their car." I smile.

His shoulders drop, and he runs a nervous hand through his hair. "Yeah, you're right. Let's get this over with."

When I step out, I take a deep breath and smooth down the front of my dress that I had to borrow from Dani. She said she'd let me have it if I let her win the office pool. I'm now eye level with Jamie and towering over Dani thanks to the four-inch stilettos she found. They make my legs look damn good—which might be part of why we're running late. Jamie really likes them.

We're walking up to the house, Dani practically running at this point, when James slips his hand into mine and pulls me to a stop. His free hand grips my hip with a squeeze as he pushes me up against a garish column that serves no purpose other than flaunting wealth.

"You—you look like you belong here, in a house like this. You're a damn knockout, and I can't believe you're here with me. I can't believe you're mine." His eyes are drinking me in for the hundredth time tonight, and I can just make out the bulge in his pants. "Please don't leave me for Tommy. He's a prick."

"Yeah, but he's rich and I'd never have to work another day in my life…" I tease, using the most sultry voice I can manage. I let out a soft moan and watching his eyes darken. "Mr. Barton, you should fuck me right here on his daddy's lawn and show him who I belong to."

"Tempting. We might get lucky and find one of the cars unlocked." He nips at my bottom lip, pushing against me with a wicked grin. "Besides, you might be my girl, but if anyone in this relationship belongs to someone, it's me belonging to you."

"I love you, James Barton. Now, just bend me over the hood of that Maserati, baby. Who cares about car alarms?" I take his tie, slowly pulling it through my fingers. "I should probably keep hold of you while we're in there, so some rich cougar doesn't try to drag you away to her den."

He kisses my bottom lip, and when he pulls back, I reach up and wipe the lipstick from his mouth with the pad of my thumb. He's got on a tight black suit with a blue tie that makes his eyes sparkle—or it could be me doing that. His pants would show off his perfect ass if it wasn't for the jacket.

My arms wrap around his waist and I give his butt a squeeze while he smiles down at me.

"When we're done here, I want you to take me home, hike up my skirt, and eat my pussy like it's your last meal on earth." I smirk, watching his pupils react to my words as his mouth drops open. "Then I want you to fuck me from behind while I wear these stupid heels."

"Promise to keep those heels on, and you have yourself a deal, Ms. Strauss." He cups my ass and grinds against me. "I'm gonna peel this dress off you with my teeth and have you screaming my name."

"The way you say my name, it almost sounds like mistress. I think I like it. Oh, we should pretend we're rich and famous. I should tell everyone I'm from the North Carolina VanDerVanders."

He laughs and pulls me closer, nipping at my neck.

"Mmm, unfortunately, I actually know the douchebag whose family lives here. He's well aware I'm about as far away from rich or successful as an artist because he's the one who's managed to pull the rug out from under me on at least two clients and a grant." He takes my hand, and we move toward the front door again just as Dani calls to us from the doorway. "You, however, are the Countess der VanDerVander, and everyone should bow before you and shower you with riches. Speaking of, where the hell did that kid go that I hired to sprinkle rose petals at your feet?"

"You fucking would." I giggle. "You know, if I was the Countess der VanDerVander, I'd still let you be my aloof boy toy that fucks me stupid every night."

"A position I will gladly accept, mistress."

We walk in, and my mouth tries to drop, but I manage to hold it in place. It's the most idiotic, gaudy, ugly place I think I have ever been. It could be the designer in me, but I don't understand some of the people who get hired to decorate these places. I guarantee this place has at least one gold toilet. I hate everything about it. As we walk toward the crowds of people, I shake my head and laugh.

"What?"

"This, all of it. The house is beyond ostentatious, and the first painting we're about to see already has me wanting to run out the door and pour bleach in my eyes."

He leans forward to read the plaque next to the art. "Well, don't say that too loud. It's one of Tommy's." He frowns and lets a heavy sigh escape. "And it's worth more than my car and home put together."

"It looks like a vagina. Painted by someone who has never actually seen one." His nose scrunches up as he laughs, trying to hide it behind his hand. "What?! I've got one and I've been face first into one. This man has never satisfied a single person who identifies as a woman. Platinum card gay men have drawn better pussies."

"I love you."

"I know," she answers with a wink. "So, when do I get to see your paintings? You've got to be way better than this guy."

"I'd have to dig them out of a closet. Or the dump." He moves on to the next frame and purses his lips. "I stopped painting a while ago."

"Because of your dad?"

"Sort of. All my supplies are in the garage. I tried to buy some and work in the house and ended up tossing all the canvases into a barrel and having a little bonfire. Liking something doesn't mean you're good enough at it to make it a career."

"That doesn't mean you should give it up. I don't believe you're a bad painter for a second, pretty boy." I smooth his hair back and look into his eyes. "You just need to find some fresh inspiration. Something new to paint."

He takes my hand and squeezes. "I already have. I just can't seem to leave you alone long enough to put the brush to the canvas."

Someone runs up behind Jamie, wraps him in a hug, and kisses his cheek all in a blur of motion. James looks stunned for a second and then cracks up. I nearly drop the drink in my hand when I realize who is standing in front of me.

"Duuuude, I am so fucking glad you're here. Did you see that first painting? Fuck, man. A blind man could paint a better—" He lets go of Jamie and stops dead in his tracks, staring at me. It's not lewd, it's more that he's surprised. "You! You…must be Alexis. Please tell me you're Alexis."

Jamie sighs and pulls me in for a kiss on the head. "Yep, she is. Lexi, this is the Oscar winning idiot extraordinaire, Chase Cooper, but you can call him dickhead. Coop, this is the more brilliant and talented than you love of my life, Alexis Strauss."

"Before I answer this asshole, allow me to apologize. I heard about the line you waited in and I feel terrible. Also, anything he's told you about me is probably a lie." He takes my free hand, kissing my knuckles and sending electrified butterflies through my whole body.

Never meet your heroes, unless your hero is Chase Cooper. He's beautiful, like the goddesses themselves chiseled him out of marble. Jamie rolls his eyes when I giggle, but it's not my fault. It's not every day your favorite Hollywood crush is kissing your hand like you're a princess.

"He's said nothing but nice things about you, Mr. Cooper," I say with an unsteady voice.

"Chase. And in that case, they're definitely all lies."

"Alright, quit ogling my girl, you fucking troll. Why are you here, man?"

"My agent made me come. Tommy's dickhead dad is marrying some equally rich woman and there's talk they'll open a movie studio. I told her this was a waste of time and how much of a prick Tommy is, but she sent someone to make sure I'd be here—and be seen." He waves to a woman across the room who is twice his age and glares at him. He says it all with a smile, as if he's saying the nicest things about everyone. "They wouldn't even let me bring Pongo because that lovely woman is allergic to dogs. I think I hate her."

"A movie studio?"

"Chase Cooper?" A loud voice interrupts us from across the room, calling attention to our little group. "It is you!" A man around our age, in a full tux and slicked-back blonde hair, heads toward us with his arms outstretched as if he's welcoming the masses. I can already tell he's a smarmy weasel. He even looks like the guy from American Psycho. I half expect him to tell us he's got video tapes to return.

"Yeah, you know, so Tommy boy here can try his hand at acting, since he sucks at everything else," Chase says under his breath. He's still beaming, but even I can see it's totally fake. He leans in by my ear and whispers, "Watch this, he fucking hates being called Tom."

Chase steps forward to take Tommy's hand, matching his loudness as he says, "Tom Halpine, what a surprise. I thought you were in China working on that big real estate deal? How's your dad taking that hit? I heard it was in the billions!"

Seeing the sneer that Tommy tries to hide almost has me doubling over with laughter, but I keep it all inside. They shake and I notice Chase wipe his hand on his pants after he lets go and takes a step back. I think I'm going to like Chase once I get over the fact that he's the guy who plays my favorite superhero. It helps that he's in a suit and not THE suit. It also helps that I'm already madly in love.

"Wait, is that? You brought Barton? Wow, you're looking…yeah, anyway." He oozes money and hair gel. He doesn't even bother to shake Jamie's hand. Dick. His voice drops and has a slight hint of annoyance when he addresses Jamie. He never actually talks to him, more like at him. "What in the hell are you doing here, man? I hope this isn't about the grant email last week. Damn shame. I really thought you'd have me beat by now."

"Guess it just wasn't in the cards," James gives him a tight-lipped smile that drops quickly when Tommy turns his attention to me.

"Chase, I didn't realize you came with such radiant company. Are you going to introduce us?" His eyes rake over my body and he has the nerve to lick his lips.

"I'm James's girlfriend, Alexis." He holds out his hand, but I just tuck mine around Jamie's arm.

"Alexis? That's a lovely name for a lovely woman. I'm Thomas Halpine." He leans in, "But I hope you'll call me Tommy when you scream it in my bed later."

I laugh. Not a polite, soft laugh or a chuckle, but I straight up laugh in his face. "Not for all the money in your daddy's bank account, little boy."

I feel the squeeze on my hip and catch the corner of James's lip twitch up.

"Feisty! I like it. James, good luck holding onto this one. Hopefully, it works out better than the last, but when it doesn't, I have no problem picking up what you can't handle." He pulls his lip between his teeth and I'm certain I'm about to throw up as he stares at me. "When you change your mind, I'll be more than ready to ruin you when you come begging for it."

I feel the muscles in Jamie's arm tense, but I keep a firm grip on his arm. This isn't the time or the place to throw punches. Tommy tries to talk to Chase, and I lean into Jamie's ear and whisper, "Your name is the only one I'm screaming tonight, my pretty pool boy."

Somehow, Chase finally gets Tommy to leave, joining a boisterous crowd where he wastes no time at all, grabbing the ass of some skinny young thing with dollar signs in her eyes.

"What a douche," I mumble.

"I like her, Jimbo," Chase laughs, then ducks down a hallway, saying something about avoiding his handler.

"Jamie! Lexi!" Dani yells out as she drags a surprisingly good looking guy over to us. "Raf has another opening next week! I told him I have an artsy friend, and he wants you to be in it! If you are cool with that. He just needs to see your work. Do you have pictures of it or anything?"

"Minor correction," the guy who must be Raf beams as he holds a hand out to Jamie. I like him more than Tommy boy already. "Now that I see who she's talking about, it would be fucking awesome if you wanted to show with us next week. Your shit is fantastic, man. It always has been. I hope there are no hard feelings after Steve and I."

"Yeah. I mean, uhm, no." Jamie shakes his head. "No hard feelings." I'm grinning up at James like he's made of stars and he looks a little stunned, rubbing the back of his neck as he answers, "Uhm, tha-thanks. Really. I'll see if I have anything and get back to you if that's alright."

"Fantastic, man. Have you done anything recently? I caught the piece you did for that studio a year or so ago. Seriously mind-blowing. I haven't seen much of you since, though. Working on something big?"

"No, it's been, uhm, slow. Haven't really been able to do much on a canvas recently."

"That's right! I've seen your photos. It's a mixed bag kind of show—bring those, too." He pulls out a card and hands it over. "Oh, bro, sorry to hear about your dad. He was an inspiration and the times he talked at the art school, his message really got to me."

"Thanks. It's nice to hear that now and then." He flashes me a bright smile as Dani and Raf head off to find more champagne. "Okay, maybe he's not that bad of a?—"

"Jamie," Chase's voice is a low grumble of panic as he hurries toward us, grabbing Jamie by the arm. "We need to leave. Now!"

"Why? What's going—" Jamie's smile drops into a scowl as he looks across the room to the ornate staircase.

The couple of the hour make their grand entrance in the most over-the-top, rich people's way—including a music change by the string quartet.

She's young and beautiful, with dark hair expertly pulled into an updo and a dress that's old Hollywood but completely sheer. I half expect a flock of crows and a fog machine as she descends the stairs like an evil queen. I can't help but think she looks familiar, but given the crowd she's running with, she's probably been in a commercial or something.

She's on the arm of what Dani would call a Silver Fox, and what I just see as an older version of Tommy the Douche. Somehow, he has softer features—like he hasn't spent his entire life being an asshole—but he's still smug as hell.

"Shit," James mumbles under his breath.

"What's wrong?"

"Come on, this way," Chase says, pulling Jamie's arm.

"That's my sister."

Before Jamie can turn and run, which is what he and Chase are trying to do, the woman glares right at him with a malicious smile.

"That's Elle."