Page 8 of Since Always

"Oh, calm down, Grandma. We have been to many, many of Seth's parties. And, if you remember, many of Jakob Striker's too, which are worse."

"But also," Owen interrupts, sitting down next to my brother at the kitchen island, “better."

I roll my eyes at him, just glad that he is actually speaking to me like plain old Owen.

"We can handle ourselves, Cass," Chris says. "His parties have gotten older too. There will be plenty of people our age there—and older, if you can even imagine such a thing. You haven't gone for the last couple of years, but they have toned down a lot. And we won't go off on a bender or screw some age-inappropriate girl and end up on Page Six. Scout's honor." He holds up three fingers in a Scout’s symbol, and Owen mimics him.

I can't help but smile at them. "Neither of you idiots were ever a Boy Scout."

For a split second, this feels normal. The banter and teasing. I want this to last.

"Fine, but if I see either of you do a single body shot, I'm leaving."

Chris cheers, and even Owen smiles at his enthusiasm, though he shows none of his own, and turns his attention to the phone in his hand.

Seth Hanson has been having this party in the town's most exclusive member’s-only club every year since he was eighteen. For most people, this is the one night of the year they get to see the inside of the legendary Antler's Club. Of course, my parents have been members my whole life, so coming here is a normal occurrence for me. Even if that weren't the case, arriving anywhere with my brother and Owen opens any doors you need it to.

We head straight into the main dining area where people sit, chatting. Owen and Chris lead the way, and I notice everyone turn to watch Owen as he passes.

"Blaze," a large voice calls out as we pass one of the last tables before the double doors that lead to the bar area.

So close.

"Russell," Owen says, identifying the voice and walking over to the man to give him one of those dap and then half-hug, pat-on-the-back-things men do. "I didn't know you were going to be in town."

The heavyset, middle-aged man smiles, and it lights up his entire face. "We rented a place. Sarah wanted to learn to ski. You come up for Christmas?"

"New Years. I come every year with the Sloanes here," he gestures to us. "Chris and Cassidy Sloane, this is Russell Smith, CEO of Vidtalk."

"Oh, wow," I say, taking his hand, surprised. "You created Vidtalk, right?"

His grin is kind and infectious, and makes me smile right along with him.

"I know, hard to believe. An old man like me."

"Oh, no, I didn't mean that," I say. But he's not far off. Vidtalk is the social media app that has been skyrocketing in popularity over the past two years, but so far it tends to appeal to mostly a younger demographic.

"It's okay. My daughters are teenagers now and they are mortified by the fact that I have my own Vidtalk account. I try to explain that it's kinda important that I do, but," he shrugs, “you can't win with your own kids. I'm a big fan of your computers, by the way. I've built everything I've ever made on a Sloane."

"Means a lot," Chris says, bowing his head in appreciation. "How do you two know each other?"

"Russell is actually helping me with some legislation I'm trying to draft. I'm sponsoring a bill to protect people from cyber-bullying. We needed some information from him, and he's gone above and beyond in the last year while we did research on it."

"That's awesome," I say, and I mean it. I worry sometimes if DC will change Owen, and maybe it has in some ways. But he will always be one of the good guys.

"It will be. Hopefully, it makes it out of committee"

Chris furrows his brow. "Why do you think it won't? Who is fighting against a cyber-bullying bill.”

Russell starts to answer, but Owen cuts him off. "Reynolds. He's made some comments to some of our mutual friends about it. I'm afraid he's going to try to kill anything I have my name attached to."

"Why would he do that?" I ask.

"Because he's a bastard," he says, and Russell raises his glass in agreement. This is not news to me. My family has known the Reynolds family ever since my father started Sloane Corp. At the time, Mark Reynolds's dad held the Senate seat that his son now occupies and there was never any love lost between our fathers.

"You know he's here, right?" Russell says.

"In Aspen? Yeah," Owen says.

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