Since Yvette had worked for Evans Financial for almost thirty years, longer than when Griffin took over at the helm, I decided to ask her about the party attire. People mostly wore party or formal attire to what she termed as the Evans’ parties. She commented about how Griffin had carried on the same party traditions that his grandfather, father, and uncle-in-law had. Yvette’s eyes lingered on me a little longer than usual, and then she offered to make an appointment for me at a tux rental shop. I accepted because I didn’t know of any off the top of my head, and if she was willing to make me an appointment, then I’d gladly accept the help.
The day of the party finally arrived, and I turned off the main road into the long line of cars waiting for valet attendants to take their vehicles. While I waited, I could see some tents and light posts had been set up between Griffin’s house and the lake. It was overcast today, and some light rain had fallen early this morning, but it seemed to let up for now. Finally, I was able to hand my car off to the valet guy and made my way up the stone steps to Griffin’s home that I had been so eager to climb.
The front doors were wide open, and once I made it inside, I was offered a flute of champagne. I politely declined the offered drink with a quick shake of my head. The man had no idea how important this moment was to me. I was inside Griffin Miles Evans’ home.
The entryway was huge and was open from the floor all the way up to the second story ceiling. Dark wood covered the floors, door casings, and the railing on the dramatic stairs. Sand-colored paint and soft glowing yellow hues from the wall sconces gave the home a warm and welcome feeling. Somewhere in the distance, I could hear music being played, and somehow, I didn’t think it was coming from speakers. As I meandered amongst the others, I found a five-piece orchestra playing outside between some tents and the house.
I wandered down to one of the tents where drinks and food were being served and requested a rum and Coke. With my drink in hand, I walked toward the house and stopped halfway to admire the incredible architecture of his home. The exterior had a lot of dark stone masonry, and everything about the character and presence of the home pointed to being owned and designed by a strong male. The home screamed Griffin. Just as I was looking up at the second-story windows, trying to decide which one might be his room, Malcolm came over to me.
“Hey, Riley. Nice to see you. I’ve been wandering around bored out of my fucking mind,” Malcolm said under his breath as Mark Hull and his wife Yvette were coming up the path toward us.
“Bored, huh?” I asked.
Malcolm and I both paused our conversation and smiled and nodded at Mark and his wife. Yvette wore a rose-colored dress with a plunging neckline. One of her hands clutched Mark’s forearm while the other hand clutched a wine glass. As they walked past us, Yvette’s eyes raked up and down mine and Malcolm’s bodies. When they were well out of earshot, Malcolm laughed.
“She gets completely tanked at every fucking party. It’s going to be a long night for Mark, I bet,” Malcolm said. “Did you get some food, Riley?”
“No, I just got here,” I sipped my drink and gestured up toward the house, still wondering about which room was his. “Some house, huh?”
“Yeah, he seems to be doing just fine,” Malcolm agreed.
“He’s got an incredible view of the lake,” I commented and turned to gesture toward the lake. Now that I was facing the other direction, a small structure with the exact same dark stone exterior caught my eye. “Wonder what that little place is used for,” I mused out loud.
Malcolm glanced in the direction I was looking in. The small dwelling sat away from the house about fifty or sixty yards close to the lake with thick woods directly behind it. A pathway with small landscaping lights connected Griffin’s home with the smaller building.
“Who knows. Maybe that’s where he keeps his hired help,” Malcolm joked. The sarcastic joke made my stomach feel like it had been punched, but Malcolm brought up Griffin again, pulling me away from my thoughts. “I wish the fucker would show his vain face.”
Was he waiting for Griffin?
My suppressed and tightly controlled jealousy bounded out of my mouth before I could stop it.
“What are you waiting for him for?” I asked and rapidly tried to backpedal. “Are you so eager to share work stuff with him?” Because really, why the fuck would he be waiting for Griffin. Was he attracted to Griffin? I hadn’t picked up on that before, but then again, I had hoped that no one was picking up on that from me.
“Fuck work, Riley. I don’t give a shit about work outside of the hours of 8:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. Monday through Friday,” Malcolm said through the fake smile that he plastered onto his face as another high up walked by with his spouse.
I was annoyed that Malcolm wasn’t as dedicated to Evans Financial as I was. It pissed me off that he even had the audacity to continue working in the intern position. Malcolm would never advance within the company as I would.
“So,”
