Page 13 of Tempest

“Beijing. For another few days.”

Vanessa has been married to her very distinguished and much older partner for over a decade. George is in some sort of finance that bores me to death, so I’ve never much cared to learn the ins and outs of his specific career. It takes him to every part of the world. Vanessa used to travel with him more, but she’s become more discerning over the years. Choosing to go only to new or favorite places.

They’re complete opposites, but you couldn’t find two people more enamored with one another.

“If I plan the party for next weekend, will he be home? I’ve missed my friend,” I say. George and I have always gotten on well. He’s French and says I should have been born there because my outlook and lifestyle are more European. He once said I was never destined for a “stodgy, prudish American life”.

Criticism of how I live isn’t strange to me, so I loved George instantly for his lack of judgment.

“You know he’d change his schedule to accommodate anything you ask for,” she says with a playful eyeroll. “The man loves you almost as much as he loves me.”

“Hardly.” I laugh.

“He likes you?” Preston asks me. “I’m convinced George hates me.”

“Oh no, why do you think that?”

“He gives me that look. Do you know the one?”

“I do,” I say, giving Vanessa a wink.

“He gives that look to every pretty man. George likes to pretend I’ll leave him for a younger man,” she explains.

“George thinks I’m pretty?”

“Do you avoid mirrors, Preston?” I ask.

“You think I’m pretty?”

“That’s not the word I’d use,” I purr before finishing my drink in one large swallow.

Everything is ready. Thanks to the caterer I hired and has handled nearly every detail for me. We’ve kept it simple enough, hors d’oeuvres and canapes. We opted out of a bar since all the students are underage, but there will be fancy non-alcoholic drinks being passed around.

I’m giving myself a once-over, making sure my Halston pantsuit is still wrinkle free and the double-stick tape is holding the plunging neckline where it should be. I want the students to see me as “one of them”, in a sense, but I don’t need to be flashing them the goods.

Preston might get a peek if things go well, but he’s the only exception. We exchanged numbers the night we met. He’s texted me a few times this week, mostly to ask how my day was. There was some implied intent on wanting to see me again. I’m not looking for exclusivity, so I’ve been cagey on the subject. At least until I understand where his head is at. Though I did reiterate my invitation to him for tonight’s gathering.

Preston Wyatt, though he’s caught my eye, is not my focus tonight, however. The kids are. This past week was another great one. While they haven’t been let loose in the workroom yet, they’ve been sketching like mad and it’s amped up my excitement. I’ve been missing this for too long; the birth of so many new ideas and the feeling of just starting on the path of something life-altering. It hasn’t been a big part of my life since I first hired Fallon and he had that same wide-eyed enthusiasm.

Before that, it was when I first started college, everything between the two events is a blur of long days and sleepless nights repeated over and over for so many years. It’s no wonder my body rebelled.

I fasten on a fine gold chain and make my way down the sweeping staircase to the foyer. I’ve been here nearly six weeks now and am still not used to the space and grandeur of this house. I can already hear George’s laughter before I make it to the front door.

“Odette, my second love,” he greets me with air kisses. “What in the world have you gotten yourself into here?”

“It’s large, but she’s the classiest house in this city. You, shoosh!” I raise on my toes and wrap my arms around him. “It’s good to see you, friend.”

“You, as well. It will be good to have you so close. Vanessa needs the company when I’m away.”

“I do just fine alone, thank you,” she says, pushing him aside to enter the house. “There are cars pulling in right behind us, so you’re going to have to let me explore this place on my own.”

“Of course, enjoy yourself.”

“We’ll catch up when you have a moment to breathe,” George promises.

They wander off and leave me to greet the students and their dates. I issued invites with a plus-one option, not wanting anyone to suffer from the anxiety of showing up alone. Benji has his girlfriend with him, Jun-Li is accompanied by her girlfriend, and Celine is alone. I expected that from her, she’s a bit like me, I think. Confident, independent. I show them all to the dining room where the libations are set up.

“This house is amazing, Ms. Quinn,” Celine says, spinning in a slow circle to take in the ornate ceiling. Her skirt, an array of black angles, twirls around her.