Aria Graice - 21. Chapter 21

Of all the people who’d been introduced to Drew as friends of the twins, only five were invited to the party, and one of those was smuggled in without Julianna’s knowledge. Four were no doubt “trophy friends” as far as Julianna was concerned. Three were children of celebrities, and the fourth, Alice, the princess Drew had met at The Rooftop. He’d bumped into her a few times since, although none as literally as the first. She seemed like a genuinely nice person, and Drew was glad she’d be there. Of everyone, he presumed she would be the one with the best chance of keeping Julianna Graice in her place. It was, after all, the boys’ party.

The fifth guest, and also someone Drew had come to know quite well, was Jay a colourful sprite who Julianna hated with a passion. It might have had something to do with the fact that, although they were big names in the fashion world, their parents had no interest in the trappings of fame, and upward mobility to them had more to do with moving their eco-friendly home higher up the mountain than becoming better known in a world they considered shallow and mean. Of course, it also had something to do with Jay’s refusal to treat Julianna with anything other than open hostility bordering on contempt. Drew had not been fortunate enough to witness this in person. but the twins told stories and Drew had overheard enough telephone or video conversations to believe them.

Jay bounced in about two hours before they were due to leave for the party, pulling a bright pink suitcase. They greeted Jeff and Drew cheerfully then disappeared up the stairs.

“I wonder if they are wearing that to the party,” Jeff said casually.

Drew snorted, imagining Julianna’s reaction to the tiny silver shorts and rainbow-feathered bolero. “I doubt they’re going to do much with their hair.”

“Well, at least it’s only one colour.”

“True, but the glitter. Oh boy, the glitter.”

“I’m glad I’m not the one who’ll be cleaning the limo tomorrow.”

“How right you are.”

Drew took his leave of Jeff and headed off to get ready. He’d intended to wear the same outfit he’d worn to Amara’s concert. However, when he arrived at his room it was to discover an entirely different ensemble laid out on the bed. He groaned. Surely, the boys couldn’t be intending him to wear the black leather trousers with the translucent lace panels up either side. Or the gauzy mesh top with black feathers around the neck and the edges of the three-quarter length sleeves. The waistcoat and jacket were nice though. The waistcoat was burgundy brocade and the long jacket was tailored Victorian style. He couldn’t help but try it on. It fitted like a glove. It could almost have been made for him. It probably had been, although he had no idea how the boys had discovered his measurements.

With a sigh, Drew tossed aside the top and opened the wardrobe looking for a suitable alternative. All of his shirts had been swept to one side and a single hanger took center stage, bearing a simple, while silk shirt. A note was carefully pinned to the placket.

We knew you wouldn’t wear it, but you have to wear the trousers

Drew smiled as he unpinned the note and laid it on the dresser. He noticed a small, black box and picked it up. When he opened it, he groaned. It contained a pair of silver cufflinks. One bore a musical note, the other a pair of scissors, each inlaid with tiny diamonds. It was too much to hope for that they were fake. He set the box down with a sigh and stripped for the shower. He couldn’t accept the cufflinks, that was for sure. If Jeff found out, he’d report him, and rightly so. Never mind crossing a line, he wasn’t sure he knew where the line was anymore.

At six-thirty, Drew was drinking coffee in the kitchen with Jeff. Drew noted with amusement that Jeff was dressed similarly to him, except for the trousers. He’d been given a similar pair but had refused them point blank and wore a pair of the black slacks he always wore for work.

“I feel like I’m going to a bloody wedding,” he grumbled, tugging down his waistcoat. It would have had more impact if Drew hadn’t caught him surreptitiously checking himself out in the mirror ten minutes earlier.

“More like a funeral from the look on your face,” Drew said, grinning at his friend over his coffee mug.

“I don’t know why I’m even indulging this foolery at all,” Jeff grumbled. “I’m a bodyguard not a bloody dress-up doll.”

“Oh, I don’t know, I think you’d make a cute doll, all dressed up in a pretty box.”

“If you weren’t dolled up, I’d throw my coffee at you,” Jeff said dryly, and Drew knew it was no idle threat.

“Can’t get coffee on the silk shirt,” Drew said smugly, smoothing the sleeves. His jacket was draped over the back of the chair. It was too hot to wear it in the house.

“What do you think the boys will wear?” Jeff mused. He’d been there long enough by then to get a flavour of each boy’s individual tastes.

“If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say Aria will be in a dress and Amara will be in something outrageous, maybe even a pair of Jay’s shorts.”

“Oh, I don’t think he’ll go that far. There’ll be a big press presence and a couple of magazines are doing spreads. They’re not foolish enough to be too off-the-wall.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that if I were you. After all, Julianna will be there, and after everything that’s gone on the last few weeks there’s precious little love lost between her and the boys. I wouldn’t put it past them to dress to shock.”

“We’ll see in a couple of minutes, I suppose.”

The sound of heels on stairs brought them out of the kitchen, but the newcomer was ascending not descending.

Alicia was also invited to the party. She looked simply breath-taking in a simple red silk dress, her hair swept up into a chignon and her make up slightly more dramatic than she usually wore.

Jeff gave a low whistle. “My my don’t you scrub up well.”

Alicia coloured prettily and gave him a coy smile. “Thank you,” she murmured.

All attention switched from Alicia to the stairs when the clacking of shoes along the upstairs landing announced the imminent arrival of the guests of honour.

Jay came down first and Drew was glad to see they’d toned down their appearance—well, as much as they could and still be Jay.

Instead of short skirts or hot-pants they wore black tuxedo pants tucked into knee length black boots with more buckles than leather. A burgundy, tailed jacket, also Victorian style, trimmed with black lace was worn open over a black pleated shirt with silver buttons and a wide lace collar. It suddenly struck Drew that there was a theme going on here.

“What do you think?” Jay asked, giving them a twirl to reveal a ruched lace panel on the tail of the coat. “It’s a bit dull and not very shiny but steampunk’s supposed to gloomy, isn’t it?”

“Steampunk?” Jeff asked, glancing nervously down at himself.

“Don’t worry, we’re not going all out, although Alice can get carried away sometimes. We’re not even wearing hats.”

Drew swallowed, picturing Julianna’s expression. He swallowed harder when the twins followed Jay.

The boys were dressed identically. Their hair was slicked back and held at the nape of their necks by a black-lace-and-jet clip, and their faces were doll-like, immaculately made up with heavier cosmetics than Drew had yet seen them wear. Their jackets were similar to Drew’s except they were cut off to the waist at the front and stiff with buttons and braid. A broad collar of black feathers fanned out over their shoulders. Their trousers were high waisted, striped and almost obscenely tight, tapering down to elegant ankle boots with stiletto heels that must have been at least four inches high. Damn, they were spectacular. They were also entirely identical. They both smiled at Drew and his heart fluttered.

Oh, dear God, save me or strike me dead.

“Do you like it Drew? Do you know which one I am?”

“Yes, Aria, I do, on both counts.”

Aria pouted. “You always know. It’s not fair.”

“Told you,” Amara said, looking smug. “He doesn’t have a clue until you open your mouth. No one could mistake you for me when you talk. Or bounce. Or hug people.”

“Am I not allowed to do any of that?” Aria asked looking stricken.

Amara draped an arm around his shoulders. “You’re allowed to do anything. It’s your birthday party.”

Aria shivered. “Yes, it is. It’s our party and no one else’s.”

“Too damn right,” Jay said, linking arms with Aria. “Let’s to give ‘em hell.”

Aria shot Drew a look that contained myriad emotions.

“It’s alright, I’ll be with you. I’ll be glued to your side. No one’s going to hurt you, I promise.”

Aria sighed. “Oh yes they will, Drew, and you won’t be able to do anything to stop her.”

“We’ll avoid her,” Amara said, leading the way down the stairs. “Father will be there too. He’ll help us.”

“Yeah.” Aria didn’t sound convinced, and to be honest neither was Drew.

They were met at the front door by a giant of a man who was the epitome of bodyguard, with shaved head and immaculate black suit. He stood with his hands crossed in front of him, showing crisp, white cuffs and the glint of gold on one finger and wrist. All he needed was sunglasses and he’d have been a caricature.

He nodded to Drew and Jeff. “We’ll be leaving by the back door.”

Drew nodded. He’d thought as much. The sounds drifting up from the street below had been swelling through the day. He could imagine that it was clogged with people by now.

“Why?” Amara demanded, striking a pose. Sensing a scene, Drew touched his arm and Amara’s head snapped toward him. “What?”

“Your fans are making it difficult to go out the front.”

Amara’s eyes widened. “Oh.” A genuine smile spread over his face and the tension evident in his shoulders eased a little. He nodded once, then changed direction and headed back under the stairs to a corridor that led to the back door. The door opened onto an enclosed garden that was shared by four blocks of houses, arranged around it in a square.

The new bodyguard hurried them along the path that bisected the garden and then through a narrow gap between the houses at the corner of the square. A few people milled about, and they attracted some attention, but more curiosity than any other kind of interest, and there didn’t seem to be any fans around.

Drew was looking out for a limousine and was startled when a…thing pulled up. It was a car, kind of, although Drew couldn’t make out what kind of car it was. The bonnet was long and narrow, a delicate filigree of clockwork gears and chains. The cabin was tall an elegant, like one of the early custom cars, and lined with red leather.

A man, dressed like a steampunk version of a chauffeur complete with a peaked cap bearing an impressive pair of bronze goggles, jumped out of the car. With a deep bow, he opened the door and stood aside to allow them to enter.

“So much for being inobtrusive,” Jeff muttered.

“On the other hand, who the hell would expect them to travel in something like this?”

Jeff gave him a quick glance and shook his head with a grin.

The smell of polished leather was overpowering, and if Drew were completely honest, the stiffly upholstered bench seats were not the most comfortable he’d sat on.

To be fair, though, the car was as impressive on the inside as the outside. Every surface gleamed as if it was brand new. Wood and leather, brass and silver, every detail perfect from the filigree handle, quilted door panels and a working image of the solar system, complete with a delicate tracery of clockwork, that dominated the centre of the roof. All three boys were fascinated by this and spent half the journey discussing whether they’d break it if they touched it. They didn’t, but they did almost get Aria’s finger stuck in the mechanism.

Beautifully inlaid wooden panels under the seat, slid open to reveal a well-stocked bar on one side, and a fridge with snacks on the other. The boys were as excited exploring these as the mobile. Drew and Jeff watched in amusement, sipping glasses of iced water. The boys, of course, chose champagne.

“I can drink this whenever I want now,” Aria said, holding out his glass to Drew in salute. “I can drink anything.”

“If I remember rightly, you’ve been doing exactly that since you were about five years old.”

Aria blushed delicately. “I didn’t say five,” he mumbled.

Amara laughed. “Probably about five.”

Jay drained their glass and reached for the bottle. “I sucked champagne from my mother’s teat,” they said, a wicked twinkle in their eyes. Drew was used to the outrageous things they said and merely shook his head with a grin.

Drew had been to the venue where the party was due to be held at least three times to check it out for security purposes. It had never looked quite like it did now, though. The manor house was set on a slight rise, in a massive estate. Huge, wrought iron gates barred the entrance, and the chauffeur had to show something to the guard who sat in one of the guardhouses flanking the gate. The guard waved them through and they crunched onto a long, winding drive lined by trees filled with fairy lights.

After a few minutes, they swept around a bend and the house came into view. It was a typical English manor house, all natural stone and ivy. Uneven stone steps led from the drive up to a shrub-edged terrace in front of the house. The wall alongside the steps was covered by a white screen on which was projected images and video clips of the boys as toddlers, although they sure did give a lot of room to their mother.

Groaning with embarrassment, the boys got out of the car and stretched, to ease the kinks in their backs. The car really hadn’t been very comfortable, and Drew would be in no hurry to hire it out for himself. He had to admit, though, that it was spectacular, and they had certainly arrived in style.

Drew and Jeff flanked the three boys as they climbed the steps onto a wide terrace. Tables and chairs were scattered around, some of which were occupied by men and women dressed as one would expect of a society event. There weren’t many, because it was cold, with a definite frost in the air.

The entire front of the building was lit with pink lights and the bushes edging the terrace sparkled with tiny pink and white lights. The whole thing looked like a sugar-frosted fairy castle. Drew and Jeff exchanged distasteful glances, but the boys barely seemed to notice. They were anxious to get inside.

The fairy-tale treatment had carried forward into the house. The oak-panelled walls were the backdrop for frosted panels depicting scenes from fairy-tales. They obscured some beautiful wood-carvings and wasn’t that just typical? All of the chairs were draped with iridescent throws and each table bore a spun glass bowl of flowers and candy. A runner of fresh rose petals, that would be a bitch to get out of the carpet in the morning, led to the left. The sound of voices and laughter came from the same direction.

Again, the boys seemed hardy aware of the frippery and had their heads together, talking earnestly. Throughout the terrace and the hall, inscrutable men in black suits stood at ease, not even trying to appear inconspicuous. Drew noted the position of each one. It all accorded closely with the plan they’d discussed beforehand.

Even the boys, though, stopped stock still at the massive double doors that led into what had presumably been a ballroom. Here, the wood panels were completely obscured by snowy white material, draped from the ceiling making it appear as if they were in some kind of massive tent. Pale pink and white flowers were woven into the cloth and trailed over tables and the elegant columns that lined the hall. Six delicate chandeliers hung from among the drapes, three on each side of the room.

Along one wall, a narrow table groaned with food, and small tables scattered around the edge of an open space—presumably for dancing—bore bowls of candy, chocolates and sweets. There was a strong smell of candyfloss.

“Aria. Mara.” A call from the right had Drew on high alert. He relaxed when a woman appeared, racing across the floor. She was followed by two men, both of whom were familiar.

If the boys were elegant, Alice was…spectacular. A tight corset cinched a tiny waist and revealed an impressive décolletage only barely contained in a snow-white linen shift. Long skirts were hitched up at the front, revealing bare legs that ended in Victorian-style knee boots surmounted by leather, buckled garters. Her hair was swept up under a jauntily tilted riding hat with short black veil. The look was completed by various straps and harnesses, fingerless gloves and a massive necklace of delicate gears and clockwork wheels.

Drew was speechless. Not so the boys who greeted her with wild excitement. She glanced at Drew. “Hello sexy bodyguard,” she said, a flirty lilt to her voice. “Are you going to sweep me off my feet today?”

“Not a chance,” Amara said, a hard edge to his tone. “He’s gay and out of bounds.”

Alice raised delicate brows and smirked. “Duly noted,” she said, then linked arms with Aria.

A small crowd had gathered, eager to greet the birthday boys, and they threw themselves enthusiastically into chatting with people who, Drew couldn’t help but notice, were all considerably older than them.

“Aria. Mara. Boys,” a deep voice boomed from the back of the room and the crowd parted giving Drew his first sight, in person, of Henley Graice. He couldn’t have been more surprised to find the man dressed, head to toe, in an immaculate Victorian tuxedo complete with top hat, which was modernized by a black silk shirt and gold waistcoat embroidered with a delicate tracery of wheels and gears. He was obviously in on it, whatever it might be.

The boys abandoned their friends to throw themselves at their father, knocking off his hat. Henley ignored it to embrace his sons. From the expression on his face, he was genuinely happy to see them. Drew couldn’t help but wonder why he’d abandoned them. He had to know what Julianna was like—didn’t he?

When the boys had finished hugging their father, Aria dragged him over to Drew. “This is Drew. He’s my bodyguard and my friend.”

“Both our friends,” Amara corrected.

Henley frowned, although Drew had the impression he wasn’t frowning at him.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Mr Chance.”

“I’m guessing all bad.”

Henley laughed. “Whatever makes you think that? No, don’t answer that question. In fact, it has been mostly good.” He took a half-step closer and dipped his head, his voice low. “I have a lot to thank you for, Mr Chance. I’ll be in London for a few days and I’d very much like to have a long talk with you. I’m afraid to admit I’ve not been a very good father to the boys in recent years. I’ve put my career first and it seems as if the twins have been casualties of that. I intend to remedy the situation and I’d like to have a candid chat about what’s been going on here.”

“Of course, Mr Graice. It would be my pleasure.”

Henley regarded him for a moment, with his head tilted to one side. “You’re not intimidated at all by me, are you?”

Drew narrowed his eyes. “I’m a former SAS special operative. It takes a lot more than you’ve got to intimidate me.”

Henley burst out laughing. “Please don’t think that’s a bad thing, Mr Chance. In fact, it’s very refreshing and I look forward even more to chatting with you.”

A commotion from just outside the door, snapped Drew’s attention away from Henley, and he automatically stepped in front of the boys, as did Jeff. Two other men followed suit. They nodded briefly to Drew, and he could only assume they were protecting Henley.