Page 60 of London's Calling: Part 1
I consider Priest’s theory and it’s not entirely without merit. If Ike’s going to cross Hart and Kerr selling his shares to me, then he’s going to want something worth his while.
I finish my beer and head to the kitchen to collect a couple more. While I’m there, I try calling Roni again. But like earlier she doesn’t answer and the call goes to voicemail. I don’t bother leaving a message this time. I’ll be seeing her in less than an hour.
Priest’s warning is a whisper at the back of mind, and I’m not going to lie and say I’m not a little concerned about her motives. But she hasn’t gained anything from being with me. Not counting the numerous orgasms I’ve given her. The thought brings a smile to my face and inadvertently making my dick hard. I’m more concerned with how to stop her marrying Clayton.
“Rawlins, you brewing that beer in there,” Fletch calls from the lounge.
I shut off any more thoughts for now. “Be the best fucking beer you’ve ever tasted if I brewed it,” I say, sauntering back into the lounge and handing him his drink.
“Did you find out why your dad wasn’t answering his phone the other night?” Priest asks.
“Not exactly.” He waves his hand, urging me to keep talking. “I think he was with a woman.”
“Jesus, the guy gets more action than I do,” Fletch grumbles. “Either he’s got a huge dick or it’s magic, maybe both.”
“Shut the fuck up! We are not discussing my dad’s cock, man. That’s fucked up.”
“Maybe he can give you some tips, you know.”
I lob a cushion at his head, hitting him full in the face and muffling his laughter. “Drink up and let’s get out of here.”
It’s been a few years since I’ve been to the Strobe. I generally avoid it seeing as Franklin owns it now. At one time it was one of the properties owned by Franklin and my father.
We are greeted by two doormen, who pat us down before allowing us to enter. As we slip through the double doors, I hear one of the doormen ask the next couple their names. I’m not sure them knowing who we are is a good thing or not, but I don’t have time to think about it too much as we enter the ballroom.
“Holy shit!” Fletch exclaims, taking a glass from a passing waiter’s tray.
The room is decked out with swathes of midnight blue cloth dotted with small, flickering fairy lights, giving the feeling of the night sky. Plinths line the outer edge of the dance floor holding a light replicating the moon.
“Did you expect anything else?” I say, unable to hide the sarcasm.
Stepping further into the room, I scan the crowd for Roni, spotting her by a table adorned with an array of buffet food. She’s chatting to a woman whose back is to me, someone I don’t recognise, although it’s difficult to tell from this angle. Then again, I don’t know half the people in this room and assume Franklin invited them. So much for giving Roni free rein.
Conscious all eyes will be on her tonight, I refrain from going straight to her and instead decide to mingle. As we walk the room though it’s clear my presence is drawing attention regardless.
Priest and Fletch stop to chat while I continue alone, coming to a halt when someone steps in front of me, blocking my way.
“Mickey, I’m surprised to see you here.” He looks me up and down, pausing on my midriff momentarily.
“Ike, I’m not surprised to see you here. Can I assume you’ve made your decision?”
“No, not at all. I’m still weighing my options. What kind of businessman would I be if I didn’t consider every possibility. It certainly would be remiss to behead the king before ensuring an adequate replacement.” He tilts his head, leaning closer. “Besides, this event is being pegged as the event of the year.”
“Really? I would have thought Roni’s wedding would be the event of the year,” I say, gauging his reaction.
A flicker of surprise crosses his face, but it’s gone in second. “Well, of course,” he agrees. “And are you invited to that too?”
I laugh. “Come on now, Ike, you and I both know the answer to that.”
“You’re right.” His smirk tells me he knew but wanted to see my reaction. “I’ll be in touch. Enjoy your night, Mickey.” And with that, he slips away.
I slowly make my way around the rest of the room until I reach the buffet table where I find Roni still talking to the woman, and I get my first proper look at her.
“God help me,” I whisper as I take her in, unable to move at the sight.
The midnight blue dress hugs her upper body in a sequined style corset, accentuating her breasts and curve of her hips, before flaring at the waist and flowing to the floor. Her stance reveals the high slit, baring her long, slender leg.
I watch her, unable to take my eyes from her, and sensing my gaze, she glances this way. As her eyes land on mine, she gasps and quickly looks away.
