Page 27 of Best Man
Zeb shakes his head. “No, keep away from Jesse. He’s with me this week.”
I try hard not to pay attention to the surge of pleasure I feel at those words. Max looks delighted. “Excellent,” he says heartily.
The blond boy huffs. “I’m going to get a drink,” he says haughtily in well-rounded vowels. We all watch as he saunters away, moving sinuously.
Zeb looks at Max. “And who’s that?”
Max shrugs. “Fucked if I know. I picked him up last night at a club in Cheltenham and shagged him. I never got a name, and it’s a teeny bit awkward to ask now.”
I laugh, and Zeb shakes his head. “What would the etiquette books say?” he says in a disappointed tone.
Max laughs. He has a raffish sort of charm and an air of being on the verge of doing something either very funny or very inappropriate. Or both. He turns to me. “Zeb and I knew each other when we were kids.”
Zeb shakes his head. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”
Max looks me up and down slowly. “Wish you’d been around then too.”
“I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have wanted that,” I say sweetly. “I’ve watchedJurassic Park. Those dinosaurs were no joke.”
Max breaks into laughter. It’s rough and husky. “I like this one,” he says to Zeb, who shakes his head. “Keep him.”
“He’s only mine for the week,” Zeb says, and I grimace.
“I’m not a suit rental.”
The blond boy comes back holding a glass of champagne in his thin fingers. He slides next to Max, looking at him hungrily. “I’m very bored already,” he pronounces.
Zeb rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t feed this one after midnight,” he advises, and Max laughs.
“Mal is fine, aren’t you?” he says hesitantly.
The boy shakes his head. “It’s Xavier actually. You should really learn to listen, especially at your age. I mean, how long will you have your full hearing?”
Max stares at him, and I break into laughter. The blond boy winks at me.
At that point Patrick comes in, and when he sees Zeb his face lights up. He makes a move as if to come over, and I watch as almost simultaneously Frances grabs his arm and the grey-haired lady who must be Patrick’s mother shoots Zeb a look that suggests if she had a spell to turn him into a potato, she’d use it.
Before the old lady can get on her broomstick or call her familiar, a waiter announces that dinner is ready and we all move towards thetable.
“That was a lucky escape,” Max mutters. “A second longer and you’d have been bleeding on this very expensive rug. I hope you haven’t given a damage deposit for this week. Nina looks like she’s contemplating disembowelling you before she really gets around to torture.”
Zeb shakes his head repressively and takes my arm gently to steer me down the table. There are cards stuck at the place settings, and I’m relieved to see that Zeb and I are together, and that Frances and Patrick are at the far end of the table. I’m less relieved to find that Max and Xavier are sitting at the other end and sitting opposite us is the homicidal old lady and her husband who looks like he’s contemplating throwing himself under a bus. I sneak a look at the old lady again. I wouldn’t blame him, really.
Amidst the bustle as everyone sits and snaps their napkins out, I lean closer to Zeb. “Is that Patrick’s mum?” I ask.
He blanches slightly. “That’s her. Nina and Victor.”
“And you were with Patrick for five years? Weren’t you afraid that as the offspring of a witch he’d eat you in your sleep?”
He shakes his head and fights a smile. “Be nice,” he warns me. He looks at her, and at that point she looks up and catches his glance.
“Zebadiah,” she says in a glacial voice.
He nods at her. “Nina.”
She sniffs haughtily. “I’d like to say this is a pleasure, but I’m afraid it’s not. I’m amazed you have the nerve to attend this joyous occasion.”
I open my mouth to speak but Zeb grabs my knee under the table and squeezes. Hard.
