"Zach! Over here!"
Miles was waiting for me inside the main doors of the bus terminal when I arrived. I paused before heading over to him to glance over at the girl. We'd ended up travelling together even on the bus from Sudbury to Toronto but had never actually said anything to each other. She gave me a small smile and walked off without a word. I sighed and headed over to where my uncle was standing.
Miles was Mum's older brother. If there was anyone in the world I wanted most to be like, dress like and act like, he was the one. Showing up at the station dressed like he was on his way to or from a VIP party, though it was the middle of the night, was just part of his charm. At forty-something, he looked like the kind of guy who could get any girl he wanted. He also just happened to be the owner and manager at Crystal, one of the best-known nightclubs in Toronto.
"Hey, Miles! Good to see ya, man."
I shook his hand with enthusiasm. While he too was born and raised up north, he'd spent most of his adult life here in Toronto. He had always made a point over the years of coming up to see us, so he and I were already good friends.
He spoke quickly, all business.
"Listen, I know you must be tired, but I'd love for you to come down to the club tonight, after you've settled in, to meet some of the guys. I'm setting you up in my office. Don't worry, it's got a shower and everything. Zach, I am so psyched about getting you on the team, and I think once my guys meet you, they're gonna get why you're perfect for our place. Man, this rocks! You finally had the good sense to come down here. You were made for Toronto, Zach, I'm telling you. You're gonna fit in so well here. Already wooing the ladies on the trip down, I see."
He nodded in the direction of the girl, now gone. I laughed.
"Not really."
"Well, by the way she was eyeing you, she wished something had happened, methinks. Ah, well. Regardless, the ladies here in town are gonna go crazy for you. I know it!"
I chuckled to myself as we headed out of the terminal. It was shortly after one in the morning, and I was amazed at how busy the streets were. So alive! Lights of every colour blazed and flickered from storefronts. Whole walls lit up with neon advertisements, and hundreds of cars drove down the narrow streets, honking at each other and swerving in and out of traffic. The air was fresh and cool on my face, and there was a very light spattering of rain. The scent was so different from what I was expecting. Each block smelled different: curry and oregano, rotten fruit and vegetables, ash and cigarette smoke, and even the occasional hint of weed.
I followed Miles, clueless about where we were going and grateful that my suitcase had wheels. Men, women and some I wasn't even sure of, as varied and colourful as the signs above them, walked past us. Some were laughing, some looked very serious, and all had lives of their own, totally and completely individual. One asked me for change. I gave him the loonie I had in my pocket. We had homeless in Thunder Bay, so I wasn't surprised by it, but I was shocked by how young this one was. He had to be younger than me.
A woman wearing a very revealing outfit and the scent of ejaculation invited me for a "fun night." I grinned at her and then sprinted to catch up to Miles.
"So, what exactly am I doing at the club?" I asked, jogging to keep up.
"I'm making you a host, Zach. And trust me, you're gonna do great at it. Wanna know why I know you're gonna do great? 'Cause you're a people person, Zach. Can't say how excited I am to have you on the team. I mean, the last time I saw you, I came right back here and told my guys that I knew you'd find your way down here someday."
He stopped, astonishment spread across his animated face.
"I mean, Christ, Zach, just look at you! You were actually walking around TBay wearing an Alessandrini shirt?"
I laughed. This was why he was my hero.
We headed down a flight of stairs. Carrying my case, I trailed Miles through the crowd of people. The walls on either side of the staircase were made of cement, and there was a sign at the top with a red band, a red shield over top and the letters "TTC" in white overlapping each other in the center. When we got to the bottom of the stairs, Miles handed me something that was a cross between a dime and a toonie with the same raised letters on it. He grabbed my suitcase and heaved it over the turnstiles in front of us, and then he stuck one of the small coins into the slot and walked through. I did the same.
I barely had the time to take it all in. It was all happening so fast. I wanted to slow down so I could take in the scents, study the faces of the people as they flew past me. They were all so interesting, so different. I vowed to myself that I would come back here when I had the time.
"The subway?" I asked, once we were standing on the escalator.
Miles laughed.
"Keep forgetting you've never been outside Thunder Bay. Yep! We're takin' the subway."
Wow. I'd definitely heard of them, seen them in movies. Trains that drove under the city. My muscles tensed as I tried not to show my nerdy excitement.
We stood on the platform, waiting. There were columns here and there, and large advertisements adorned the walls on the opposite side of the tracks. One was for a Terminator movie, one of the sequels. Another was for a group called Humanist Canada. They were advertising that "You can be good without God." The tracks were sunken a good five feet below the platform. Wads of gum stuck to parts of the platform floor, and the garbage bins overflowed with sandwich wrappers, pop cans and chip bags of that day. A long, yellow, one-foot-deep painted line gave warning to keep away from the platform's edge. A wind blew at the hair on the back of my neck as a train arrived on the other side of the platform. I turned to watch it. It was so different to see these things in person instead of on a small television screen. The train came smoothly to a halt. The Star Trek double doors made a futuristic rushing sound when they opened. A three-tone warning rang and they closed again, and within seconds the train was on its way.
I glanced at the people around me, pausing at a pair about four pillars down. I first noticed them because the sharp-dressed black guy, facing me, was unusually tall. More than his height, his presentation was something to behold. He had it all: pale grey silk Zanetti suit, matching silver tie, glittering watch, diamonds on his ring, cufflinks and stick pin. Zanetti makes suits in his size? Sunglasses sat on top of short dreads that sprang from his lean head, and the lobes of his dark ears sparkled with huge square diamonds. He was chatting with the man who stood in profile to him. My gaze fell from the basketball-tall guy to the one facing the tracks. Wearing an equally expensive midnight blue suit (though I couldn't tell from where I was standing who had made it) was a guy in his mid-twenties. Long black bangs swept across his pale nose and cheeks. The rest fell in front of and behind his ear as he tucked part of it back with thin, delicate fingers. It ended in wisps at the bottom of his neck. His ear, clad with a silver cartilage cuff and several studs, was thin and slightly pointed. Even from where I was standing, several feet away, his lashes were long enough to make any girl crazy jealous and emphasized the massive size and shape of his eyes. Though he seemed to be about the same height as me, he had a very feminine bone structure, cute button nose and sharp angled lips. I was still staring at him when a vibration told us our train was on its way into the station. As I was about to turn away to face the tracks again, he looked down, said something and... smiled. My ears burned as I felt a quick drumming beat against my chest. What the hell was that? I shook the feeling off as best I could while being herded by the passengers behind me onto the train.
The street outside Crystal was jammed around the block with people waiting to get into the club. Every single person lined up against the wall was dressed up: scantily clad girls in skin-tight tops and dresses, guys with designer suits and expensive casual wear. They all stared at us in disbelief as we walked right past them. The monster huge bouncers opened up the massive black doors and we strode in.
The explosion of sound from inside was intense. The thump, thump beat of Depeche Mode's "Personal Jesus" shivered through my veins. Brightly coloured lights blitzed the entire room, sweeping the floor with blue, red and green hues. The place was already packed. I wondered about fire regulations, thinking about all those people outside hoping to get in. It didn't seem like they could fit another person in there. The scents of the place were a subtle mixture of cologne, spilled alcohol and sweat. The combined effect was completely intoxicating. Hanging from the ceiling, above the very centre of the dance floor, was a huge crystal rock. It was easily the size of a small car and reflected the strobe lights, making them dance across the room. Above the grinding bodies, and surrounding the entire space, were several tiers of balconies that held what seemed to be private areas. Some had guests leaning over the railings, watching the others dance below. Miles led the way through the crowd toward the back of the club and into the "Employees Only" area.
Girls wearing sexy light blue T-shirts that hugged the curves of their oversized breasts, with the same crystal rock depicted on the front, grabbed trays and headed toward the music. Many of them paused and whispered, nudging each other as I grinned a hello at each of them.
Miles glanced at the girls and then back at me and started laughing.
"Hoh, yeah... you're gonna do just fine here, Zach."
At the very back we went through another set of swinging doors that led to a narrow lobby. This area was more like the inside of a hotel than a nightclub. In the centre was an elevator.
"Hey, so... Miles, you own this whole building?" I asked.
"Yep, this one and the next one over too. Top floor of this one has my office, where you'll be staying for now. The rest of the floors are crash pads for the VIPs who need something secluded, away from the public eye. Each floor is a suite. I rarely fill them all up. Other building has offices that I lease out to luxury businesses catering to my guests, such as concierge and escort services, special event planners and real estate brokers for specific clientele. The main floor of that building also has a salon spa, which, incidentally, is free to Crystal employees. Second and third floors are the gym and dojo, also part of the Miles Taylor benefits package."
He winked.
We took the lift up twenty-six floors and emerged into what looked like a large condo. Floor-to-ceiling window walls surrounded the outside of the building and gave a fantastic view of the city. The place had that new leather smell to it, and the glass must have been thick as the room was totally devoid of outside noise.
"Shower's in there, and you can sleep on the couch there. Cabinet in there has a television, and there's a bar there. Help yourself to whatever you want. I'm gonna go down and let the guys know you're here. Phone's over there. Call me on my cell as soon as you're ready to meet everyone. I'll come back up as soon as you ring me. Feel free to take an hour or two to settle in. They aren't going anywhere for a few hours, and I know you must be pretty tired."
"Thanks, Miles. Seriously," I said, laughing.
I could barely keep up. The guy was pure energy. No wonder he was able to stay so young.
"You all set? All right. You know my cell number?"
I recited it for him. He laughed and slapped me on the back before heading out.
I didn't move for a long time after he left. Waiting for my breathing to return to normal, I stood gazing out over the city. Buildings of all different heights rose from the ground and glimmered in the night. The lights of the city glowed gold against the black sky. Some of the buildings I recognized from my Internet research. The CN Tower and the Dome were very easy to pick out. I wondered if Miles liked baseball and if he would be interested in seeing a Jays game.
I stopped processing it all and stared out across the city, its sleepless eye winking at me. I took deep breaths and focused on relaxing. Life here was going to be a bit of a whirlwind unless I learned to enjoy the quiet moments. I looked around at the room. So this was Miles's office. It was nicer than any hotel room I'd ever seen. It definitely seemed to have been converted from one, and an expensive one at that. The leather couch was easily over seven feet long, yet it didn't take up all that much room in this huge space. Laughing a bit at my good fortune, I walked over to the bathroom. As I'd expected, it was bigger than my entire bedroom back home. It had a walk-in shower, two sinks and a huge Jacuzzi tub. I was still laughing when I turned to the mirror. Ugh. With bags under my eyes and my hair all greasy, I looked pretty much how I felt. That shower was sounding better and better every second.
I held off, though, and walked back out to the main room to enjoy the view of the city once more. Scanning the room, I spotted a leather chair at the desk, grabbed it and rolled it over to the window. I then found a low glass endtable and placed it in front. I sat myself down, propped my feet up and peered down at the city below. This—I smiled to myself in disbelief—this is home.
***
"Thanks for taking the time to gather after another successful night here at Crystal!"
A cheer waved through the group of employees as Miles, standing on a box crate, addressed them in his booming voice.
"I know that many of you came in even on your night off, at my request, and I really appreciate it. I wanted to take the time to introduce to you a new member of the team here."
With a hand on my shoulder he spoke, loud and clear, over the murmurs while I, red-faced, put on my best smile and met the curious gazes of the thirty-some very attractive staff.
"Zach Taylor is my little sister's only son, and I am very excited that he has finally agreed to come and work for us here. I've mentioned Zach to many of you in the past. He is hard-working, intelligent, has an incredible sense of style, and I consider the club very lucky to have him on board. Please do take the time to welcome him to the team. As a way of getting him introduced to you, I am going to hold a party at my place next Saturday before the first shift, from three to eight p.m. Zach will be replacing Emmit as primary host for the Meridian Room. Since he's spent the last two days travelling, I will leave it at that and give the kid a chance to rest. Party on Saturday is not mandatory, but I hope you'll make it. See ya then, and have a great night, everyone!"
It seemed funny that he said "have a great night" since it was already four a.m. The mention of travelling made my knees turn to gelatin and had me realizing just how tired I was. I spent the next fifteen minutes shaking hands and even received the occasional surprise kiss on the cheek from some of the more forward waitresses. I was amazed at how beautiful everyone was. It must have been a hiring requirement to be not only gorgeous but refined and polished. A lot of perfume and cologne wafted my way during these interactions, and my head ached by the time things started to settle down. I made a mental note to ask Miles about medication before heading back up to the room for the night.
When the time came, Miles went up with me and showed where to find the Aspirin.
"Sorry that the sofa isn't a bed, but it's only until we find you your own place and get you settled."
"Nah... Seriously, Miles, I appreciate you putting me up like this, and for the job, of course. This is an insanely cool place you're running here."
He sat back in a lounge chair near the sofa, rested his feet on the coffee table and grinned at me.
"Yeah, they're a good group of kids. There's a few oddballs that I have to deal with sometimes, but I'm sure you'll have better luck since you're young and have a way with people. Listen, I won't keep you long. I'm sure you're totally knackered. Did you sleep at all on the way down?"
"A bit, yeah. I could do with a good eight straight hours, though," I said and, at the mention of sleep, yawned.
Miles took that as his sign to head out and stood up to leave. He grabbed my hand and gave me one of his firm hand-pumps that always left me feeling like a kid, clapping the side of my shoulder with the other.
"It'll be awesome having you here, kid. Kind of like having a little bit of Jess around. So what do ya say to dinner with me tomorrow night? I gotta head in to the club by eight, but maybe we could make it for six? I'll swing by and grab you and take you to one of my favourite joints. Seriously, best sushi in town."
I stared at him, forgetting my drowsiness for a moment.
"Sushi? As in... raw fish?" I asked, my jaw tightening to supress my gag reflex.
Miles laughed.
"Trust me, there'll be other stuff you can eat there that isn't raw. Don't worry, I won't lead you astray. Anyway, I'm gonna jet. Get some sleep, kid. Ya look like ya need it."
***
My work at Crystal didn't start until the Monday after the party, so the day after my arrival was the perfect opportunity to try to find out if Elva still lived in Toronto. I'd consulted city and transit maps The subway line to get there had a straightforward "U" shape to it. As a result, I didn't have that much trouble getting around. I used the CN Tower to help me get my bearings and only had to ask for directions twice. For the most part people kept to themselves, but on the occasions when I did speak with someone, I was surprised by how nice everyone was. The biggest culture shock for me was the variety of nationalities here in Toronto. In Thunder Bay there's a large group of Native people, but other than that, the residents are mostly Caucasian. The depth of colours and scents was incredible here. I'd never experienced such diversity before.
The Weather Network said that today would be a hot twenty-six degrees Celsius, with rain on the way. The humidity hanging in the air before the rain felt tropical. I got off the subway at College Station and walked the half block north to Carlton Street, following the map I'd made for myself earlier that morning. As I headed east, I couldn't help but crane my neck in awe, like a dorky tourist, at all the condo buildings towering over the streets. A streetcar passed by, and I grinned as I ticked my mental checklist of things that I'd seen here in the city. Having arrived at Church Street, I headed south toward McGill Street. The area that I needed to get to was hidden in an area that could only be accessed from Church.
Elva's street, it turned out, was a cozy little nook away from the busier streets, lined with Victorian-style row houses. I had a difficult time finding the right house as it was enveloped in trees and shrubbery, which obscured the number. I opened the front gate, walked the short distance to the steps, made my way up and rang the bell. I tried to ignore my nervousness, scoffing at myself since this was probably a long shot anyway. No one came to the door, so I tried ringing it again.
"I not interested!" said an old woman's crotchety, accented voice from inside. "Take peddling elsevere!"
"I... I'm sorry!" I called. "Madame Blavatsky? Are you Madame Elva Blavatsky? My name is Zach Taylor. I'm here because I have questions about John Anderson and the Gates of Haven."
There was a long silence as I waited for her to say something.
"Please, Madame Blavatsky, it's important that I find him."
Another round of dead air until I heard a crash against the door that made me jump.
"Go avay ! I know nothing and I not buy anything! So just go avay!"
I racked my brain to come up with some way to get her to speak with me. I pulled out the journal and tore out one of the blank pages from the back.
"Madame Blavatsky," I said, scribbling the info onto the paper, "I'm going to write my name, phone number, address of where I'm currently staying and the names of the people I'm searching for on this piece of paper. If you could please call me if you have any information, I would be eternally grateful. So sorry to bother you!"
I opened the storm door, slid the piece of paper inside the mail slot and waited for another thirty seconds to see if she would change her mind. Then, sighing, I walked out to the street, stopping once to glance back at the house. The curtain in the window dropped the second I turned my head. I waited there for another minute before conceding defeat and heading back to Crystal.
It turned out that the two phone numbers I'd found based on the journal were also a bust. The two A. Breslins were Arthur and Andrew Breslin, and not Alexander. Deciding to put my search aside for now, I focused my thoughts on finding a place to live.
On occasion in this period, when Miles had the time, he and I got together for dinner. For the better part of that first week, though, I spent my time alone. No matter how far I ventured out, I always managed to find myself by the end of the day at the subway station where I'd first arrived. I'd learned early on that the station was called Dundas. Sometimes I hung out on the subway platform, trying to stay close to where I'd seen those two intriguing men on that first day, not that I had any idea of what I was going to do if I ever saw them again. I just wanted to catch a glimpse... another view of that face that had affected me so much then.
It was on Friday night at this same location, as I was about to give up and head back to the club, that I saw him. Only this time he was alone. I'd been studying the journal for another possible lead, only glancing up every once in a while to keep an eye out for the two men.
Just before the last train arrived, I'd stood, gathered my belongings and headed toward the end of the platform, ready to board. He appeared, as if out of nowhere, right beside me. My shock was so great that the hair on the back of my neck stood on end and goosebumps slid all the way down my body from the top of my head. I must have been stuck in my gaping expression because, when he turned toward me, he smiled as though amused, as if I had said something humorous. His eyes were the same deep blue as the suit he'd been wearing the last time I'd seen him. I cleared my throat and turned back to the tracks.
"You look as if you wish to ask me something," he said.
Frig! My mind was a tumbleweed desert scene. I'd never expected to actually speak with him. Why was I feeling so moronic? I shook my nerves and flashed an embarrassed smile at him.
"Uh... hah! No, I... I mean, I was noticing, and admiring, your Dolce & Gabbana suit. Is that from this year's line?"
The expression on his face changed from amusement to surprise. He looked me up and down. I wasn't wearing anything special that day since I'd been just slumming it. All I had on was a pair of Roberto Cavalli faded jeans and a grey Brora V-neck. I grinned and showed him my fingers, which were covered in pencil lead from handling the journal.
"Wouldn't want to damage good stuff," I mumbled.
He was still staring at me when the train arrived. Putting my shoulder bag in place, I walked on and sat facing the doors. As I glanced up from my bag, which I'd placed in the seat beside me, I noticed that he hadn't boarded and was still standing there staring.
"Hurry it up, or you'll miss the train!" I called.
Jolted by surprise, he jumped on just as the doors were closing. Once we started to move, I took some cleaning wipes out of the front pocket of my bag to get the dirt off my hands. As I was working on the edges of my nails, I happened to notice that the D&G guy still hadn't sat down, even though there were plenty of seats to be taken. He was standing right in front of me, staring down at my hands.
"May I ask what it was that dirtied your fingers so thoroughly?"
I didn't like the effect that his voice had on me and didn't trust myself not to say something stupid, so I unfastened the main compartment of my bag and took out the journal. I fanned it to the middle section to display one of the smudged surfaces. With one hand holding the bar above my head, he placed a single, slender finger on the edge of the page to pull it toward him. I was lucky to have selected a section that was unreadable. With eyes cast down, his lashes took over, and I found myself staring at him openly. His nose was thin and curved up ever so slightly at the end. The ridges of his upper lip were defined and angular. Even the shape of his jaw was sharp. The charcoal D&G dress shirt under the suit, which matched the colour of the suit perfectly, had a wide collar and was partly unbuttoned with no tie, revealing his pale, protruding collarbone. The skin there was so smooth that I had a strange urge to reach out and touch it. I threw the journal back into the bag, keeping my gaze down to cover up my embarrassment over my thoughts.
The train was nearing Queen Street, so I slipped to the side to stand.
"This is my stop, so..."
I turned to find that he was behind me, as though heading off the train as well.
"You too?" I asked.
His amused smile returned.
"It would seem so today, yes."
As we walked off the train and headed out of the station, I turned toward him.
"Are you headed home?" I asked. "You live around here?"
"Nnn... no. My curiosity has led me in this direction. I am actually hoping that you will invite me for a drink."
He grinned at me and, without meaning to, I smiled back.
"Oh! Uh... yeah, sure. Zach Taylor, by the way."
I stopped walking and put out my hand to shake his. When he took it, he didn't shake it but instead held it there. His thumb stroked that sensitive spot between my thumb and my index finger.
"Alexander Breslin."
***
"Wait... What?" I stood there, frozen, as he smirked at me.
"I hope you do not mind my coming to find you. Madame Blavatsky is somewhat of a recluse and does not take kindly to speaking with strangers, even those as tempting as yourself."
He continued to smile as we stood there frozen, hands still clasped. I realized that my mouth was hanging open and clapped it shut. He had found me. While I'd been standing there waiting for him, not knowing who he was, he was...
"Wait... wait... How did you know it was me at the station?"
"I have followed you all night. I was not planning to speak with you, but... something made me change my mind."
His head tilted as he studied my face.
"I believe you were going to offer me a drink?" he asked, when I didn't move.
"Ah yeah... So, I'm over here."
I took my hand back to point at Crystal's entrance.
"You live in a dance club?"
"Uh... Not exactly. I live above it. Well, for now, anyway."
I took him by the elbow and guided him forward. I was jittery with nerves. Alexander Breslin was real, and he was was walking with me. I'd actually found someone who had a connection to my father. The bouncer was already starting to turn away the last of the latecomers, so when Alexander and I slipped past them to enter the building, there was a cry of dismay from the crowd behind us. I let his elbow go as we entered the club and moved it to the small of his back, guiding him through the crowds toward the Employees Only area. Once we were in, I stepped in front of him, pulling him by the sleeve of his jacket.
"Zach!" said one of the waitresses as she stepped in front of me, placing her hand flat on my chest. "So when do you start here?"
"Hey, uh..."
"Heidi," she reminded me with a sultry smile.
She was one of those bottled blonds who had obviously invested a lot of money in getting the figure that was now pressed against my body.
"Heidi, right! Monday. You comin' tomorrow?"
"Wouldn't miss it, sweetie. Hey, who's your new friend? He's yummy!"
She repositioned herself from in front of me to take a closer look at Alex and placed a hand on his cheek.
"My goodness, you're adorable. You should come tomorrow too. I bet the rest of the girls would love having you around. I'm sure Miles would clear it, right Zach?"
His gaze shifted from Heidi to me and he raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
"Heidi, this is Alex. I'll ask Miles, but I think that it was supposed to be an employee thing, wasn't it?"
"Pshh!" she said, waving a hand at me. "He's your uncle. I'm sure he'd be good with whoever you wanted to bring. Well, I do hope to see you again tomorrow, Alex. Time for me to do my last round. 'Night, gentlemen!"
She stood on tiptoe and kissed Alex on the nose. The expression on his face was of pure, unhidden astonishment. I couldn't help but laugh.
"Come on, Alex. Let's get out of here before you get fully assaulted."
I walked over to the back door and held it open for him. He still had a dazed look on his face as he walked through. Heidi was right. He was adorable.
"Come on in. Make yourself at home. What can I get ya?"
I walked over to the bar after turning on the overhead lights, chucking my bag on the floor next to the sofa as I went.
"Sorry about that back there. The girls here are pretty forward. I've already gotten more invites for after-hours, 'overtime fun' than I can count. She's right, though. I bet you could get any girl in this place that you wanted."
I had my back to him and was pouring myself a Coke, so I didn't hear him approach.
"Hmm... You think? What makes you say so?"
He leaned on the wall next to the bar, facing me with his head tipped to the right. He'd taken off his overcoat, and his hands rested casually in his pockets. Amusement had returned to his facial expression. I lifted the half-filled can of pop and raised my eyebrows in offer. He took it, placed it on the counter and stood there, arms crossed, waiting.
"Uh, well... I mean... you're the kind of guy that these girls here would go crazy for."
I handed him an empty glass and took my drink over to the armchair and sat. He followed me over, sitting opposite me on the sofa. He placed the untouched can and glass on the table, leaned back with his legs crossed and rested his arms on the back of the sofa. His gaze never left me and a small smile curled on his lips.
"What kind of guy would that be?"
"Oh, um... well..."
I took a sip of my drink to try to collect my thoughts. What the heck was I thinking, bringing this guy into my apartment? I don't even know him. My eyes rested on that collarbone that was now gleaming under the warm overhead spotlights.
"The girls here like guys who are good-looking and well-dressed and clean-cut. I mean, your hair is kind of long, but that's in fashion now, isn't it?"
He didn't answer me. Instead he uncrossed his legs and withdrew something from his pants pocket. It was the piece of paper I'd left with Madame Blavatsky. He opened and placed it on the table in front of him.
"So..." he said.
His soft, feminine voice was wreaking havoc with my senses. He looked down at the crumpled sheet.
"Tell me about this."
Rather than answer him, I put my drink down, stood to grab my bag, withdrew the journal from inside and handed it to him.
"Please, sit," he said.
His hand rested on the cushion beside him. The tops of my ears flared up as I attempted to find a comfortable seating distance between us that still allowed us both to view the pages of the book. I opened it to the front page as he rested his arm once again on the back of the sofa behind me. I was so aware of every single movement he made that it was difficult to concentrate on explaining the subject matter to him.
"Your name comes up here."
I noticed then that the sketch that my father had made of Alex resembled him, though it did not come close to showing his striking beauty.
"Interesting. And the person who wrote this, he says that he knows me?"
"I... I'm only going by what's in the journal. I haven't seen him in fourteen years," I admitted.
I realized as I said this that my father had written nothing about his having spoken with Alex. The journal indicated only that he knew of this person's existence. There were no words describing an acquaintance or any real interaction. The sketch was more like a study from afar.
"So, then... you don't know him?" I asked.
The disappointment made the back of my throat hurt.
"Hmm... No, there is no one in my circle of friends by the name of John Anderson," he murmured.
"What about the Gates of Haven? Ever heard of them?"
I could tell that he was staring at me as I asked him these questions because I could feel his breath on the side of my neck. I didn't dare face him. He paused for a long time before answering me. I had a sense that he wanted to say more but couldn't.
"I heard once," he finally said, "that the Gates of Haven are part of a story told to children when they are tucked into bed at night, a story of a scary place with monsters and demons. My knowledge does not extend to places of fantasy and myth."
I clenched my jaw in frustration and blew out the breath that I'd been holding. He's lying to me. He has to be.
"I suppose I should have known better than to think it would be this easy to find him," I grumbled.
"Hmm... So, please, do tell me about what is happening tomorrow."
"Oh... Crap!"
I jumped up from the couch and ran over to the phone to check the time. It was now after three a.m., and Miles would be just finishing work.
"It's a party to welcome me as a new staff member here at the club. Did you want to come? I should call Miles now to ask if it's okay, if you're interested."
Alex stared at me, considering his answer before saying, "Yes, I am most definitely... interested."
I blinked at his apparent double entendre, shook my head and dialled the number to call Miles.
"Hell yeah! Absolutely, kid! Here, I'll give you the address so you can pass the information on to him. Hey, did you want to come to the shindig with him? I was planning to pick you up and drive you myself, but would you rather come in with him? What time is he planning to show up for?"
"Miles wants to know what time you want to come for. It starts at three p.m. and only goes on until around eight, before the early shift starts at Crystal, but, I mean, you don't have to go for the whole time. He wants to know if I want to go with you there, but don't feel obligated or anything."
"Unfortunately, I have other engagements leading up to the end of the party, but since you are not one of the people working, perhaps I could pick you up from the party at eight o'clock?"
"Oh... yeah. Okay... Miles, Alex can't make the party time since it's too early, but he's gonna come right at the end to pick me up. Gimme the details anyway so he knows where to go."
I hung up the phone and stood there, unsure of what to do. We'd only looked through half of the journal when I'd gotten up to make the phone call, but sitting next to him like that had been unsettling. Alex stood and walked over to stand just in front of me. He stared at me for a moment. Even though he was standing closer to me than was socially acceptable, I found I couldn't move a muscle. I still had the directions in my hand, and he, glancing down at the piece of paper, slipped it from my grasp.
"Eight o'clock, then," he said. Then he walked over, picked up his coat and left the apartment without another word.
***
Miles's home was north of Toronto in an area called North York. It was a fantastic place: a two-storey, five-bedroom red brick detach, featuring modern interior design and a swimming pool in the backyard. When he and I arrived at the house, long before the others got there, a heavy-set, bright-faced woman with red cheeks was placing the finishing touches on the preparations for the party.
"Zach, meet the only woman I would ever consider marrying, if she'd ever agree to have me."
He grabbed her by her plump waist and, as she squealed in protest, planted a big kiss on her cheek.
"Feck, boy! Are ye rat-arsed? Ye be makin' me look like a tart, for Christ's sake! Beggin' yer pardon, child. He's usually not such a bollocks. I'm Hannah, dear. So lovely ta finally set eyes on ye."
She shook my hand vigorously and I laughed. They were quite the pair. I could definitely see her keeping Miles on his toes.
"Hannah, my love, is everything ready? Do you need our help?"
Miles continued like that, flirting and teasing her until she finally yelped and smacked him in the arm. As she was heading out toward the back of the house, she yelled back.
"I'd beat ye with me own rollin' pin, but ye'd probably think 'twas foreplay!"
I barked out a laugh as Miles beamed at me.
"I'm dead serious about that woman... if she ever agrees, that's it for me."
Some of the other employees brought their significant others to the party, a few came with their families, and others seemed as though they were angling for hookups in the near future. The atmosphere was relaxed, and since people had to work that night, the drinking was kept light. I spent most of the time chatting with the women who came up to me to strike up a conversation. It seemed, as I watched carefully, that the guys were less inclined to talk to me than the girls were. One of the women explained that the reason for this was the stiff competition when it came to the position that I had taken. Apparently, the role of host was supposed to be a promotion from one of the other positions, like bartender or waiter. Since Emmit's position had been given to someone outside the business, and to a relative at that, they didn't look at me with welcoming eyes. While I was not one of those people who needed to be liked by everyone, I could see that it would be a challenge working in this place if I was starting off with enemies.
As the party came to a close and the sun started to set, I kept my eye out for Alex, hoping he might show up a little early. People started to leave at around seven-thirty to get changed for work. Some of the women, at Miles's suggestion, used one of the two showers inside the house to get ready so that they could stay a little longer, while others, who worked the later shift, went inside and took a nap so that they would be able to handle the long haul of the late night ahead.
I was in the middle of a lengthy conversation with a girl named Darlene when I noticed him come out of the back doors of the house. He just stood there, leaning against the exterior wall of the house, scanning the crowd. As Darlene chatted away, I watched as his eyes finally rested upon me and he his face softened.
"So?"
Darlene nudged me in the arm, and I realized that she had asked me a question and I didn't know what it was she'd asked.
"Sorry, hun. Can we continue this conversation at another time? A special guest of mine has arrived, and since he doesn't know anyone here other than me, I don't want to leave him standing alone."
"Oh?" she asked, following my gaze to where Alex was standing. "Oh my gawd... that guy is gorgeous. Who is he? How do you know him?"
"He's... just a friend," I murmured as I walked past her to meet him.
Exhilaration at the fact that he was there made me weak in the knees. What's with me? I seriously needed to get it together, or I wouldn't be able to say a thing to him for fear of my voice cracking like a teenage boy in heat. My cool meter seemed to plummet the second he was within a certain radius. He still hadn't moved an inch. He didn't have to. Just his presence had an immediate effect on me. I hesitated as I approached.
"Zach! You takin' off?"
I jolted with surprise. I hadn't even noticed that Alex and I had been standing there staring at each other, saying nothing, for several minutes before Miles showed up behind me. He slapped me on the back as he passed me and extended an outstretched hand to Alex.
"Miles Taylor. Alex, right? Great to meet you. How did you come to know my nephew here?"
Alex properly accepted Miles's handshake but returned his gaze to me before answering.
"It was a combination of similar travelling routes and taste in clothing. Plus, he and I have an acquaintance in common, though it would seem my memory is not what it once was."
"Oh?" Miles turned to me. "Who's that?"
"Um... my dad," I answered.
As I expected, the colour drained from Miles's face. I'd neglected to mention to him that I'd come down here in search of my father.
"And you know him, or knew him?" Miles asked Alex. "Oh no, wait. You said something about lack of memory, so you don't recognize the name, huh?"
Miles turned his attention to me.
"So, you're really gonna try and find that guy? You sure you want to? I mean, that... sorry, but that asshole abandoned you and my little sister during a time that wasn't easy on her. He could have checked in on you from time to time, but he just showed up one night—after, I might add, a three-month absence, during which Jess was worried sick over him—packed up a bunch of stuff and left the two of you without even a proper explanation about where or why he was going. So other than the weekly deposits into her account and the divorce papers, she never heard another word from him again. This is the guy you want to find?"
"Yeah, but... it doesn't matter," I muttered. "It's looking like a lost cause anyway, so..."
Miles walked over to me, placed a hand on the back of my neck and yanked me into a hug.
"Ya still got family, kid. Ya still got family. Don't go wastin' all your time lookin' for something that ain't there."
"Yeah... I hear ya."
I stepped away and gave Alex a look that said "Please get me out of here." I'd argued enough with Mum all summer. I didn't want to get into it all over again with Miles.
"Yes... right," Alex said, springing into action to close the three-step distance between us. "So sorry to steal him away, but I've made plans to show Zachary here some of the other nightlife in Toronto before he is engulfed by his busy work schedule. I hope you will excuse our rudeness in leaving so early."
Then Alex did something I hadn't expected him to. He bowed to Miles, took me by the hand and led me into the back of the house. He didn't let go of my hand until we reached his car.
"Wait!" I yelled, skidding to a frozen halt as soon as I saw the car that we were headed toward. "That's a Gemballa Mirage!"
"Is it?" he said, looking at the car with vague interest. "Hmm. Well, get in."
"Wait... you didn't know what kind of car this is? Where did you get it?"
I know nothing about this guy. I don't even know at this point if I can trust him. What if this car is stolen?
"I borrowed it from a friend. I have no car myself."
He now stood next to it, looking back at me, his hand on the door.
"Have you changed your mind? Will you be going back to the party now?"
I hadn't budged. I needed a second. Why do I always feel like I'm being pushed over a waterfall with this guy?
"I... I'll go with you on one condition."
"Oh?"
He smiled, amusement playing within his eyes.
"Uh... yeah. I... I want to know more about you. So, tonight... um... you tell me more about yourself."
I wasn't meeting his gaze anymore, too nervous that he might see through my hidden agenda. I kept my eyes on his chest instead.
He walked back toward me and placed a finger under my chin, lifting it.
"And what will I get in return?"
"In return? Uh, I... I mean... I don't know. What do you want from me?"
I'd asked the question casually, but as soon as the words had escaped, I realized how it sounded and blushed.
He was still touching my upturned chin when his gaze dropped to my mouth.
"That, Zachary Taylor, is a very, very good question."
He dropped his hand, turned and walked back to the car without waiting to see if I followed.