Page 8 of Piece By Piece

“I know how to drive!” the man at the wheel suddenly protests. Then, his hazel eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror and he winks. “I’m Mattheo, by the way. And I must say, in all the many times Lily talked about you, she never mentioned how breathtaking you are.”

“What a charmer,” I joke even as my cheeks heat. I guess Lily wasn’t exaggerating when she said I’d be intrigued tonight.

We stop at a red light and Mattheo turns in his seat to give me a slow, casual once-over. “Red looks good on you,” he finally concludes, still grinning.

I’m rescued from scrambling for a reply when Andrew pipes up. “It’s green, moron. Watch the road. You can flirt with her all night,” he tells his friend.

Mattheo turns to the front but not without mumbling, “Oh, I sure plan to.”

“Jesus Christ, Lil, you didn’t warn me that the party was at a fucking palace!” I accuse my friend under my breath, looking up at the giant apartment complex. As soon as we drove into the neighborhood where in between every house, another five could fit, I knew we were headed somewhere fancy. I just didn’t know how fancy.

“And you let me come with bedhead. If we’re about to walk into a damn cocktail party, I’ll shave off your eyebrows,” I threaten, not entirely joking.

“Relax, A. I would never trick you like that. Trust me, his parties aren’t any less wild than those you normally drag me to,” she assures me right as Andrew throws an arm over her shoulder.

“If I’d had to guess, I’d say they’re much crazier,” he adds. “No one throws parties like Sebastian, the brilliant bastard.”

I frown at the name of the host. It’s the first time they mentioned it and now my mind goes straight to the young man I met at the nursing home two weeks ago. I have to admit, it isn’t the first time my mind strays to his handsome face since then. Whenever work is slow, I imagine him walking back through the big double doors to visit his grandma. And maybe give me some tips at Cribbage and look at me with that adorable smile of his again.

It’s not every day you meet a sweet, gentle guy that’s simultaneously incredibly good-looking, after all. I think it’s fair for a girl to daydream.

“I guess I’ll be the judge of that at the end of the night,” I say, forcing my mind to stay on topic. Mattheo appears at my side, and we enter the building, only to be greeted with the sight of two buff men in suits left and right of the elevator.

Before I can question it, one of them says, “Have a good night, Sirs.” The elevator doors open and the other stranger turns to us, his stoic expression giving way to a polite smile. “And you too, ladies.” With that, the door closes and we’re heading up. I watch the glowing numbers grow bigger and bigger until we reach 11. By then, my mouth is slightly dry and I feel myself grow a little nervous.

I’m not opposed to new things, but this – Well, I have no idea what’s expecting me and the elevator doors are thick enough to not let any sound ring through. Well, that or the party is incredibly silent.

But then the doors slide open the first inch and I nearly jump at the blasting music that floods the tiny space. It’s surreal and the feeling that this is a dream only intensifies when I look ahead and see that the elevator brought us right into the apartment. Andrew and Lily walk inside, completely unfazed, and I jolt ahead too when Mattheo’s hand finds my shoulder to lead me.

There are dancing bodies everywhere. And I mean dancing, bouncing, and jumping, not the lame swaying that some people consider party-appropriate. All along the wall on the right, booze is displayed on a massive illuminated glass shelf, a long bar parting it from the dancefloor. The shelf is equipped with LEDs, each row a different, darkcolor while the rest of the apartment is flickering with neon lights and lasers.

Hell, how can anyone live here? This looks more like a high-end club than a home.

“Not bad, huh?” Mattheo asks me, leaning down so our faces are on the same level. Even in my five-inch heels, I have nothing on his height.

I’m sure I look starstruck, so I don’t bother playing it off. Instead, I just shake my head and feel a massive smile take over my face. Thank Lily, that beautiful goddess for dragging me along. This is where I always should have come to party.

Without thinking, I take Mattheo’s hand in mine and drag him deeper inside the crowd of strangers, eager to lose my mind in the heat of the moment. If only Mattheo didn’t stop me before I could even start, leaning down to tell me something again, “You know, I’d truly love to dance right now, Aliena, but we should say hello to the host first, no?”

I lean back and pout, giving him my best eyes as I look up through my lashes. He just chuckles.

“Fucking Seduttrice, you’re good. We’ll make a quick appearance, then we dance, okay?” he asks. And just because I am happy as hell to be here and hopeful to secure an invitation to the next party, I smile at the giant and let him lead the way. I guess it’s time to meet this mysterious Sebastian that lives in this mansion.

I’m not sure if it’s just nerves or hope that makes my stomach queasy as we walk past the lone bouncer and up the stairs, but I can feel my hands growing clammy. Partially because I’m letting a giant stranger lead me away from the party, though I’m not so worried about Mattheo. I’m more scared that I’ll make a bad impression on the host.

What if it really is Rosie’s grandson? I mean technically, he mentioned Hartford, which is where we are, and if he’s the son of the person paying for Rosie’s residency, the palace would make sense. Butterflies go off in my stomach as the pieces click into place.

God, I hope I’m right. I think. I mean, it would certainly be fun to meet the sweet young man again and another familiar face at this party wouldn’t hurt. I really can’t picture Sebastian in his white button-down among these party people though.

My questions go up in thin air as I’m led into a room down the hall on the second floor and my eyes find those hauntingly beautiful dark ones. It’s him. Oh, damn, it really is him. My cheeks blush and I smile to myself as he looks at me, recognition clear on his features. It’s good to know that I made a well enough impression that he remembers me after weeks and while I look completely different.

Mattheo lets go of my shoulder and walks toward the couch where Andrew, Sebastian, and Lilianne are already seated. He greets the host, momentarily stealing his attention. In the meantime, I walk over too, feeling uncharacteristically shy.

I force myself to stand straight and smile naturally when I stop in front of the couch, unsure about how to proceed. Like, do I shake his hand? It’s not like he’s getting to his feet to greet me as he did with Mattheo. No, he’s just sitting there, giving me an unimpressed look.

The butterflies shrivel. What the hell? Where’s that sweet smile of his? “Hey there, thanks for the invitation. The party looks like so much fun,” I greet him, trying not to let his cold stare intimidate me.

He arches a brow. “Yeah sure. And you are?” he retorts, none of the politeness of our first meeting to be found.

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