The Universe of Discretion: Muse
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Michael BN
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13
Chapter 1
The wedding was a traditional church affair, and I noticed him in the front row, wrestling with a stubborn lock of dark brown hair. His struggle brought a smile to my face, a rare occurrence these days.
I didnât recall seeing him at the rehearsal dinner, which made me curious about his connection to the bride.
Natalia, the woman my brother was about to marry, was the daughter of Enzo Abano, the man behind the popular ice cream brand. Their peppermint chocolate chip was my go-to comfort food when my thoughts spiraled into darkness.
Our family, on the other hand, came from much simpler beginnings. Dad was a retired police chief and Mom taught high school.
My brother and Nataliaâs romance began shortly after he was hired as the general counsel for the Abanoâs charitable foundation.
Their whirlwind love story had everyone talking. They went from being a social media sensation to engaged to standing at the altar in just eight months. Only a few of us knew that the beautiful bride was expecting.
As the best man, I was supposed to be focused on the ceremony. I was supposed to remind my brother to breathe if he started to fumble his vows. But all I could think about were the steel gray eyes that had locked onto mine, as if they could see into the darkest corners of my soul.
When my brother began to trip over his vows, I had to pull my attention away. The rest of the wedding kept me occupied until I could finally unwind at the dinner table.
I had recently overcome a pill addiction, but that wasnât going to stop me from enjoying the expensive red wine that Enzo had personally chosen. It was divine, and by the fourth glass, I was feeling more than a little tipsy.
After dinner, my parents hit the dance floor, Grandma retired for the night, Uncle Peter parked himself at the open bar, and Aunt Susan and her dull new husband were deep in conversation with the Berkeleys.
I was the last one left at table number two when the man with the steel gray eyes slid into the seat next to me, a scotch on the rocks in his hand.
He seemed a little tipsy but not drunk.
I had made three rounds of the grand Elysium hotel ballroom, hoping to âaccidentallyâ run into him, but he had been nowhere to be found.
âCan you help me understand something?â he asked, his voice a deep, sexy baritone. âBack in the church, did weâŠyou know?â
âYouâll have to be more specific,â I replied, taking a sip from my glass. Why was I so drawn to him?
âOkay.â He rubbed his chin. âFor a moment, the world stopped spinning as I was drawn into a gaze that echoed with the voices of a thousand lifetimes. An old soul yearning for a meaningful connection with a kindred spirit, even if only for a fleeting moment.â
Holy shit! I could feel my cheeks heating up, and it wasnât from the wine. Was this some sophisticated pick-up line orâŠ
âWarlockâs Son Season 2, Episode 4,â he said, grinning. He was incredibly handsome, and he knew it.
âI never watched that show. Iâm not really into fantasy,â I admitted, relieved.
âAre you serious?!â he exclaimed, looking genuinely offended.
I quickly tapped my thumb against my fingers before extending my hand. âDillon, brother of the groom.â
To my surprise, he gently kissed my hand and said, âA pleasure, Dillon Brother of The Groom.â
He made me blush again, and I could tell he was enjoying it.
âCan I buy you a drink?â he asked, shaking his empty glass.
What?!
âPlease, donât tell me theyâve been charging you for drinks! My dad is paying for the open bar and if he finds outâŠâ
He invaded my personal space again, placing a hand on my knee and saying, âThey donât serve what I drink at the open bar, Dillon Brother of The Groom.â
âCan you stop calling me that!â I snapped. He was as frustrating as he was charming.
âThe bar in my room has whatever you want,â he said, a key card appearing in his hand as if by magic.
He placed it on the table and slowly pushed it toward me. Then he leaned in and whispered, âForty-fourth floor.â
I stared at the room key as if it were a venomous snake. Was this really happening? The idea was crazy but also thrilling. Would my thoughts sabotage me if I decided to go?
I picked up the key card and headed for the lobby. The forty-fourth floor was the penthouse, and I had to swipe the key to access it.
Who was this guy?
This was a first for me, and probably a last. I had to know where this would lead.
I opened the door to the room cautiously, my eyes half-closed. He was standing by the window, looking out over the stunning cityscape before turning to face me.
âIâm so sorry,â he said. âI thought I could do this, but I canât.â
I let out a breath I didnât realize I was holding. âIâve been shaking since I got into the elevator.â
âFor once in my life, I wanted to do something completely out of character.â
âHow about we just have that drink you promised?â I suggested, nervously tapping my fingers. What was it about him that intrigued me so much?
âIâd like that,â he whispered. âAlthough, I donât understand why youâre still here after my failed attempt at being recklessly impulsive.â
âOh, you didnât fail,â I said, my voice shaky. âYou had me totally convinced that we were going toâŠyou know.â
âYouâll have to be more specific,â he said, a faint smile on his face.
âDillon Francis,â I said, extending my hand. âNice to meet you.â
âA pleasure, Dillon,â he said, shaking my hand. âIâm Noah Black.â
Why did that name sound familiar?
My phone buzzed. It was Carter; my brother needed me. I wasnât cut out to be a best man, but after my suicide attempt, everyone was trying to keep me involved. They wanted me to feel like I belongedâŠlike I mattered.
But deep down, I knew the truth.
It was one of the many reasons why, four months ago, my mind, clouded by pills, told me to end it all.
Then, my thoughts took a sudden turn.
I convinced myself that Noahâs ego was as big as his luxurious hotel room and that he was probably just looking for a quick distraction from the wedding because it wasnât about him.
âI gotta split,â I announced, setting down my fancy cocktail. My thumbs were drumming a nervous rhythm against my fingers.
I was handing Noah an escape route from his failed experiment, but he stubbornly chose to accompany me on the elevator ride down. Would he back off if I made him sufficiently uneasy? I decided to test the waters with some pointed questions.
âSo, whatâs your gig? Banker? Arms trader? What kind of job foots the bill for a hotel room that big?â
I braced myself for his indignation, but he just chuckled. It seemed his charm wasnât entirely an act.
âIâve created something a lot of folks seem to like,â he replied, his words shrouded in mystery.
âThatâs not much of an answer.â
âWhat went wrong?â he inquired, his tone shifting to serious. âWe were having a good time and then you justâŠshut down.â
âLetâs not go there. You obviously needed a quick ego boost butâŠâ
My words trailed off as he tenderly pressed his lips to mine. He tasted like luxury, and I was already craving more.
For the first time in a while, my mind was silent, seemingly content to let me savor the moment.
The possibility of the elevator doors opening at any moment only heightened the intensity. Had I misread him? Or had my own thoughts deceived me yet again?
He pulled back and said, âI looked at you because youâre stunning. I invited you up because you looked back.â
I was at a loss for words. The elevator chimed, giving us barely a moment to gather ourselves before the doors slid open.
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