The bar of his childhood home used to be a forbidden place for Chris. He would often sneak around the house hoping to simply sit on the high stools and play businessman. The image of his father drinking a glass of whiskey after hours was ingrained in his memory from a very early age, and he could almost see the stamp of his trousers’ back pocket button engraved on the stool leather.
Today, however, the bar was full of drunk ass-kissers that stuck to the counter like scrambled eggs and the frying pan. As if they didn't have the means to taste that kind of liquor elsewhere.
He tried to escape the ballroom to go lay on his old bed for a while, but apparently it was being used ‘host the talent’, whatever that means. His mother really went overboard with the party, inviting over three hundred people to celebrate his new role at the company.
Managing director, one step away from his father's position as CEO. But a party at the Wright's residence is never just a celebration, is it? If it were up to him, he would go out for drinks with the boys and consider it done.
But there were social standards to meet and people's hands to shake. Most important of all, to his mother at least, woman to be paraded in front of him. Speaking of the devil.
“Mother”
“Are you having a good time, son?” Patricia Wright could be called many things, but her most prominent quality was most certainly sophistication. If her elegant navy-blue dress adorned with handpicked matching jewelry wasn't proof enough, her poise definitely was.
“As good as it can be”
“Christopher!” she chastised in a tone perfectly tailored to reach only his ears in the most annoying of ways.
Not that he didn't love the woman, far from it. She gave him life, and a comfortable one at that, and affection in her own way. But she had unreal expectations for his goals and an unlimited amount of opinions regarding his personal choices.
“Sorry, mother. Yes, I am enjoying the party.”
“Good. Have you met the lovely daughter of the Jacksons?”
There it was. Her number one subject of choice since he joined the family company, over five years ago. He thought that giving in to their wish to have a son taking over the business would be enough to take them off his back but clearly it wasn't.
Apparently, his father could only embark on his well-deserved retirement once he knew the company would be taken care of by a ‘real patriarch’, who ‘knew the burden of taking care of a household’. His mother's words, of course.
“I didn't have the pleasure just yet”
“I'll introduce you two after the show. She's very docile”
Docile. Who describes a person as ‘docile’?
“Sure”
“Perfect. Now come with me, the performance is about to begin, and I don't want to miss it. I know the perfect spot!”
Chris allowed her to pull him through the crowd, imagining just what kind of performance had the woman hired this time. She was always trying to outdo her own previous parties, and he had to give her credit. It was usually the highlight of the night.
He noticed when the DJ faded out a song to make room for whatever attraction was coming. A quick look at his clock showed him he was right, exactly midnight. His mother loved a good cliché.
He heard it before he saw it. Loud gasps took over the crowd, everyone looking up all of a sudden. He didn't know how he could miss the first swing of the enormous flowing fabric that dangled from the ceiling, but now all eyes were on the small girl hanging from it.
The music was spot on. Not only did she look like she was swinging from a chandelier, but also the emotion of the whole thing. He didn't know much about circus performances, but he could feel all the sorrow she was conveying through the song. This was not the typical light party performance; it was pained and heavy.
Each split was opened and then forced to open a little bit more. As if each action took a toll on her body and soul. She would fall along the fabric and show how hard it was to climb back up. And then, like her effort meant nothing, she would go back down into another fall. It was a shout out to all who suffer and rise to try again. It was an ode to struggle.
For an undetermined number of minutes, he didn't take his eyes off of her. Then he felt a bump against his shoulder, bringing him out of his daze.
“Sorry, man” drawled the drunken bastard. Only then did he notice most of the people had already gone by their business, ignoring the exceptional spectacle that was taking place right above their heads. ‘Fucking idiots’.
He cocked his head back up to see the rest of the show, just in time to see her at the apex of the ceiling with multiple layers of fabric rolled around her body. She unhooked her feet from the upper part of the ribbon and began to spiral down, picking up speed and rapidly approaching the ground.
Chris didn't know if her expression of despair was part of the show or if something had gone wrong, but he ran towards the center of the main hall just in time for her to halt a mere six feet above the ground.
At that moment, she looked right into his eyes and he could have sworn she saw his soul. She undid the knot the held her in place and let go of the silk, landing on her feet. He worried for a minute about a fall from that high, but her knees and ankles were clearly trained to absorb the impact.
Then she turned to him with a dazzling smile and winked. His heart turned inside his ribcage with that simple act, and he reached out to touch her like she was a delicate statue, too precious to be handled harshly.
She turned to leave, but he got to hold her arm before she could. He just wanted to ask her name, why was she leaving in such a hurry? But a quick glance down made him notice a shiny object on her left hand.
“Where did you get that?” His voice came out weird, definitely a mix of his antagonistic feelings at the moment. He was still amazed by that mysterious creature in front of him, but his anger was beginning to boil from the recognition of the priceless item attached to her ring finger.
Another careless guest bumped into him right before she could answer, and she took the opportunity to escape his grip. Then, favored by her petit size, she crawled between the crowded room and evaded the hall. He tried chasing her, to no avail. She quite literally slipped through his fingers and he was left alone once again.
Kiara cursed her way out of the ballroom, running towards what she thought would be the kitchen and, luckily, her way out of there. What were the fucking odds! The only person who had the decency to watch her act till the very end, that devilishly handsome piece of work that ran to hold her before she ‘fell’. Fate was way too cruel with her. Not that she would have stayed there and engaged in a heartfelt conversation about her act and whatever else with that delightful sin of a man. But still, must he be the one to recognize her little theft? How stupid was she to think she could wear it to the performance without consequence! Now she found herself in the kitchen pondering over whether it wa
Chris was mad. No, not mad. He was livid. He had been ever since he laid eyes on the recently restored family jewel on the ring finger of that damn thief. Things only escalated when he reached his childhood room and found the top drawer of his desk unlocked. He rummaged through the jewelry, trying to grasp if anything else was missing, but without the specific pattern he arranged the items, he couldn’t be sure. The most valuable pieces were still there, but maybe she only got the ring because it was the easiest one to carry.She had probably fled the scene by now, and he looked around the room to f
The party went late into the night, and each passing minute was hell to Chris. He had only one thing in his mind, and those clueless guests were keeping him from it. He had to entertain the Jacksons and their daughter way longer than he'd planned, and couldn't take it anymore. To make things worse, his father decided to make an appearance right as the conversation was organically coming to an end, which added new fire to the dying dialogue. Of course, the theme shifted to business right away, since Mr. Jackson was one of his father's many business associates
“Kiara, you dirty hoe! What did you steal this time?” His words were aggressive, but his tone was absolutely flooded with inquisitive humor.“Hello to you too, Michael,” She said over the burner phone she bought to call him.“Don't you dare hello me right now, bitch!” Kiara loved Michael's flamboyant personality, especially when he faked being angry to get a juicy gossip out of her. Unfortunately for her, this time there really was one.
Frustration seemed to be the only word in Chris' vocabulary that weekend. Sunday had come and gone, and he seemed to have hit all the possible dead ends regarding the damn woman. By Monday, he was beginning to think he would never see her again. It. The ring. Work was hell. All his associates who didn't come to the party were passing by his office to congratulate him on the promotion, preventing him from getting any real work done. To make things worse, he could fee
Once he sorted things out in the kitchen, Chris proceeded to the tearoom to talk to his mother. He was not in the mood for it, but she was expecting him and there was no excuse he could think of to get away from it.Patricia was leisurely preparing a backgammon board for them to play together, a habit they acquired during his father's long trips abroad. It was a fun activity and a great distraction from the impending sense of abandonment that surrounded the house during those periods. That specific board was a gift from Edgar after a particularly long trip to Japan. It was his mother's favorite, with sev
Kiara got to the coffee shop earlier to grab a bite to eat. She was on practice all day and was eager to reward herself with a nice meal. The place Carina suggested was really cute and had an extensive menu of light and healthy options. The girl must have thought she was all into healthy food, being a circus artist and all. Kiara snorted at the idea, thinking about her undying love for good food in all its forms and shapes. She chose the avocado toast with smoked salmon but asked for a poached egg on top to make it more interesting. It was still healthy, but at least it tasted like real food. If she had to eat another bitter melon, quinoa, and black beans mix with no seasoning whatsoever, she’d kill someone.
Chris was left dumbfounded next to his car. That wink sent an electric shock down his body, landing right on his crotch. He shifted his weight, suddenly uncomfortable in his tight jeans. Shit. What the fuck was that?He tried to replay the scene of their encounter to understand how things so indisputably fled his control. The goal was easy: meet the woman, get his ring back, make her feel sorry for her petty existence. The final result was her number saved on his contact list and a semi-hard cock.That last part wasn't his fault. The woman was a damn seductress, standing there with her sports clothes and messy after-practice hair. She was clea