Page 27 of Exposing Adonis

“I’m not one to butt in when I’m not needed,” Alastair placed his hands in his pockets and looked to the side. “But I don’t think Pippa’s ever experienced rejection. That ring you oh-so-subtly noticed…” he winked at me. “I’d pay it no mind.”

“Kinda hard not to, when it’s the size of a meteor,” I grumbled.

He jutted out his elbow, offering it to me like he was about to take me onto the dance floor.

“Shall we?” When I didn’t take his arm right away, he shrugged a little. “Or you can hide in here. The assassin, running from a socialite. Has an interesting ring to it.”

I wanted to punch him in the gut. I decided to poke him in the belly, and heoofed!good naturedly. I did take his arm after all, and he led me down the maze of hallways, narrating the entire time.

“So we’ve come to the grand salon,” he said, gesturing at the room with his hand. “Which differentiates it from the slightly-less-grandpetitsalon, for when Alex wants a more intimate setting in his fourth - or is it fifth? - mansion.”

“Five mansions?” I asked, matching his jovial tone. “Seems like an unethical use of space.”

“Ah, that’s just it,” Alastair said with a grin. “You get to a certain social class, and ethics become less … necessary.”

I tried not to giggle at this proper, sarcastic British man, with his slicked blond hair that was perfectly parted and waxed into place.

“Now, I’m about to take you into the outdoor dining area,” he said in a whisper as if we were conspiring. “Where you will get to see a lifetime of baggage weighing down our host and his eager guests. Has Callum talked to you about his boarding school?”

He stopped us in front of some glass double doors. The sun was setting on the horizon, washing everything in a rich, golden glow.

“Yes, in passing.” That was what the Rolex watch was for, right?

“I bet he hasn’t told you the juicy drama, then!” Alastair was practically humming with excitement. “You see, our own Geordie Campbell?” He pointed through the glass enclosure to where Geordie sat in a chair. Everyone was at a round, white linen clothed table. Candle votives and white flowers decorated the centerpiece.

“Our grumpy Scot went to boarding school with Pippa, Alex, and our doctor Chloe. But look at our friend’s face?” Geordie was glaring at Pippa burning resentment. She, on the other hand, looked pristine, her delicate forearms resting on the table as she spoke animatedly about something, lightly gesticulating with slim, delicate fingers. The ring glinting in the sunset.

“Were they ever a thing?” I said, tilting my head to Pippa and Geordie.

“Ah! That’s the pertinent question!” He put his finger up in aeureka!gesture then grinned at me. “He says no, but I have my suspicions. Those chocolatiers are a very shady bunch.”

“Chocolatiers?” I asked, looking at Hugo who was slumped in his chair, bored, his lower lip out in a slight pout.

“That’s what those pomps call themselves. The ones that graduate from that boarding school.” Alastair explained, then added with a dramatic flair. “Dark were those academic halls, me’thinks!”

“Is this idle gossip?” I said, leaning away from Alastair while still holding on to his elbow. “No. I bet you’re good at this trade craft thing. So you’re saying all this to make a point. What is it? Pretend I’m too dense to figure it out.”

Alastair chuckled, and he flashed his perfect white teeth as he gave me a bright smile.

“My point, my dear assassin.” He began walking, tugging me along as he placed a hand on the glass door. “Is that nothing is ever as it seems.” All the joking left his voice as he looked back out the door. “Especially in these cut-throat echelons.”

“Why are you saying all this to me?”

The smile brightened his face like I had flipped a switch. “You remind me of someone.”

“Someone?” I pried.

“A fascinating someone. A certain Filipina viper.” He tilted his head towards me like he was whispering a secret. “I am quite obsessed with a certain woman, and you remind me of her.” I recoiled from him. Jesus, did he have a fetish? He grasped my hand a little tighter. “No, don’t do that! I’m not transferring my affections on to you. Trust me. My attentions are quite singular.”

He looked back out to the table. Alex Baas tapped his fingers on the white linen three times, before drinking from his wine glass. He put the glass down after his sip and wiped his face, then ran a hand through his hair. He meticulously folded the napkin, and placed it on his lap. Such precision. I wondered if there was some compulsion there.

“But it’s uncanny.” Alastair’s voice took me by surprise. I had been so engrossed in watching Alex’s movements that I had forgotten we were standing there. “If not for the hair, you two could be sisters.”

“You know I’m not a natural blonde, right?” I asked with a laugh.

“Of course,” he said with a sheepish nod. “Would you mind if I asked you something? Something a little personal?”

“Shoot!” I shrugged. “You might be my only friend out here.”

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