Boss Undercover Series Bundle, page 53
His parents’ residence soon came into view, the twisting green vines running up at the side trellis extending up the sides of the manor. The usual stone columns forming the structure of the front stood proud and polished, and already he could see hired valets collecting guests’ cars as they headed inside. Zack cringed. He despised these sorts of parties, particularly ones that involved his parents’ guests, who were outright stuck up and couldn’t tell you the meaning of walking. Oh no, you had to be served as if you were a baby unable to move and twitch a finger.
“Shall I wait for you?” Wickes asked, parking the car near the edge of the lawn.
“Yes, I’m hoping I won’t be here for long. Otherwise, please just do come in and enjoy yourself, Wickes. Take a glass of champagne, maybe two, three, or four. There’s got to be a fucking dozen in here,” Zack replied as he exited the car.
Wickes chuckled before pulling out his phone, causing Zack to smile. If he knew that man, then he knew he would exactly be tapping his finger towards catch-up TV and comfortably sitting there for however long he had to, enjoying a couple soaps. Zack shut the door, his feet crunching against the gravel as he sighed once more at the sight of some late arrivals heading indoors. Just what he needed.
There was the struggle at these sort of parties, complete concentration for one, could just easily slip at the sound of a monotonous tone dragging on as one bragged about their achievements or discussed business. The majority of the females here dressed extravagantly and laughing tirelessly at another’s joke were housewives. And of course, they were tied up with drama; it came with the package of marrying one of these women. A rumour here and there and that summed up their tedious lives. Zack had heard a few; he could remember at his last attendance one woman had spread that another was flirting with the pool boy who was half her age whilst the husband dallied with a secretary at work. Just how cliché! No, when you walked through these parties, you could see nothing but falsities. You could see the insecurities of those who mistrusted their husbands, the odd gold digger scattered about, and the growing smiles on their faces. A true reflection in the mirror.
Take for instance now Zack, as he meandered through the grand living room, saw a wandering but not lost husband was flirting shamefully with another woman he was not wed to. Typical. Although this was not the case for everyone. As for Zack’s parents’ marriage, that was genuine, and the few elderly couples standing by appeared true enough.
But dear mercy did Zack hate these parties. If it wasn’t enough to reply with hello here and there to whoever glanced his way, it was refraining from collecting more than one glass from the hired waiter’s board.
The food selection was all right, partly because the small cakes were delicious. The food was small, meant to be nibble size, no choice to choose something sloppy or sticky; it would be a disgrace to offer a guest dolled up in a gown or suit something messy. And as for the music, he could already see a hired pianist in the far corner of the dining room. No CD playing from a stereo was allowed. It was all about keeping up appearances with these sorts of parties. Even as a child, Zack could not be allowed to run or play but stand at the foot of his parents and brother as they spoke and only answer when spoken to. Manners, manners, and manners was the word drummed into him as a child, not that he couldn’t see the good in them, but at parties, it was different. His plum cheeks had been squeezed so many times by strangers as a child that he was sure he’d be stuck with permanent marks. He hated cooing; it was as if he were a toy or diamond necklace on display.
There, standing in a blue gown, embroidered in diamonds across the waist and her hair stuck up in a fancy do, was his mother, laughing as another woman across from her spoke with a glass of champagne or perhaps prosecco within her hand.
“Mother,” Zack said, interrupting whatever conversation she was engaged with. Turning her attention immediately towards her son, she blinked several times, a notion he knew flashed her vexation. “Can I please speak to you for a moment?” Ignoring her displeasure, he gestured towards the door adjacent to the grand bookcase of pointless books he knew neither of his parents had read; it was only to give the appearance of being studious.
“Sure, Zack.” She smiled, evidently ticked off yet not wanting to appear to be so in front of guests. “Please excuse me, Sandra. I must go speak with my son. Enjoy the party, please do.”
Following after Zack, they headed into the study, a room that was very familiar to Zack for its ebony woodwork, dark green curtains, and occasionally lit fireplace. Even looking towards the bar, Zack could remember of the many times he saw his father sitting in the armchair as a young teenager, listening to his father speak of the business and how one day it would be either himself or Jared enlisted with such a great task.
“How dare you interrupt me like that, Zack?” his mother spat, releasing a handful of her gown she had held to prevent her from tripping up. “I was speaking, and you know how I hate it when people butt in. Whatever did I teach you, Zack? Where are your good manners?” Shaking her head, she frowned towards her son, who was taking not the slightest notice.
“Mom, what is this? Do I seriously have to be here? You know I hate keeping up my appearances,” Zack pointed out, dismissing her disgust.
“Yes, and that is precisely the reason I invited you over. So do not think for one second you are leaving. Jared is here too, somewhere. I’d like it if you polish up this attitude and make yourself useful by attending to guests out there. You know this is important for you in finding more investors and for getting your name out there.”
Zack sighed. “Fine.”
“Oh, and now that you’re finally here, you can meet someone,” his mother piped up, clasping her hands together. “Follow me. You’re not getting yourself out of this one, young man.” She picked up her dress as she headed back towards the door and ushered Zack to keep up. He knew this meant meeting a candidate for his possible partner in marriage. Despite telling his mother countless times before to remain distant from that part of his life, he knew that wouldn’t stop her.
Zack had to look a little pleased to be here as they meandered back through the crowd of people, replying with a hello here and there and smiling when he needed to. God, he hated parties.
“Zack, I’d like you to meet Angela Stockson,” his mother introduced, pointing indirectly towards the woman before him, who oddly was not who he had expected. In some sense, he had expected her to have a polished look and at least look rather stuck up, but instead, her blonde hair was left in its natural beach waves, accented with blue dyed tips. Several piercings covered her face, two on her bottom lip and a septum through her nose. There was no full coverage makeup, and her choice of gown was simple and effective, taking the competition away from all the other neighbouring females. All in all, she was a very beautiful woman, but just not enough to set his heart racing like someone he knew. “I will leave you two to it.”
“Hey there, handsome.” She jutted her chin out.
Zack smirked, immediately liking her confidence. “Hey, yourself.”
“Let’s go outside,” she perkily declared, pushing her hair to one side. “Keep up, handsome.” Turning on her heel, she began to weave through the guests, barely taking notice of those who looked at her in disgrace over her poor posture and frantic rush. Without breathing a word back, Zack followed in pursuit, her chocolate brown dress in sight as they headed out into the garden.
Once there, she shuffled over to one of the marble stone benches, taking a seat before digging her hand down her chest to retrieve a packet of cigarettes. Zack wasn’t sure if he shouldn’t have looked, but she seemed confident enough to not even care if he had. Slipping the roll-up between her lips, she held it there as she took out a lighter to ignite the tobacco he could see she craved. A little hesitant at first, Zack finally sat down next to her, resting his elbows onto his knees as his eyes stayed glued to the ground.
“Mmmm, god, I needed that,” she exhaled, a puff of smoke dancing away from her lips. “Want one?”
“I’m good.” Zack nodded, declining her offer as he sat a bit more back and began to roll back his sleeves.
“So…” Exhaling out again. “You want to fuck upstairs?”
Zack coughed, hitting his chest several times. “Whoa, you’re quick. I mean—any other day I would have, but—” His laughter died a little as he began to run a hair through his thick, jet black hair.
She chuckled before taking another quick drag. “I get it.” She paused for a second as she flicked some of the dried tobacco at the end. “That is the sound of someone who is smitten and head over heels in love. Although I’m little surprised you don’t remember me.”
“I—wait, we’ve met before?” Zack frowned a little, trying hard to pick up any memory from the scrutiny of her facial features.
Angela hooted with laughter. “Man, you were really being a fuckboy. Baby, I’m a little offended that you forget this face going down on you.” Zack consciously glanced down to his trousers. “It’s fine, though,” she continued, taking another short puff. “I didn’t think you would. I sorta changed appearance.” She smiled towards him. “But still nothing?” She shook her head with disbelief as Zack shook his head.
“Okay.” She sighed a little. “Picture me with a simplistic, bitch look. Y’know, blonde curled waves, no piercings, supposedly an innocent woman and barely any boobs.” Then she hissed in a whisper, “I had a boob job.” She pulled a shocked, dramatic face, causing Zack to smile with amusement.
“Anyway, I altered one day. I just thought, fuck it. I’m sick of people judging me. Seeing me as little Miss Stockson, daughter of Wayne and Daphne Stockson. Little Miss Perfect. So I cut my hair but…” She paused, tugging a strand of her hair and shaking it about. “It’s grown since then.” She dropped it back into place. “Got piercings, several tattoos that would you believe are all under this gown and totally pissed off my parents.”
“Wow,” Zack said, raising his brows. “Fair play.”
“I know, right?” She smiled, exhaling as she stretched her arms out and flicked the cigarette onto the floor before digging her heel onto it. “So I kinda suspected you wouldn’t remember me. After all, when we fucked, I was daddy’s little princess.”
Zack nodded his head, acknowledging to himself that he must have slept with this attractive woman. Not that he was surprised…back then he’d slept around. “So when…did we fuck?” he asked with curiosity, watching as her face lit up with amusement.
“Oh, sometime last year. It was at your friend’s party. Kyle, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, we hooked up in the guest bedroom. You had me all over. Rear, front, side to side,” she blabbered on, deliberately counting on her fingers as she held onto that growing mischievous smile. “Fuck, you even had me bending over onto that expensive table that you took the piss out of earlier when Kyle beckoned for no one to touch it.”
Zack nodded his head several times. “Well, that must have been nice.”
Angela laughed, shoving his shoulder. “Man, fuckboy, all over.”
“Yeah.”
“So who’s the lucky one?”
Zack swallowed. “The lucky one?”
“Y’know, this woman who’s stopping you from taking me upstairs, Mister,” she said, leaning back on her elbows as she slid her bottom onto the ground.
Zack kissed his teeth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Okay, okay,” Angela repeated, surrendering her hands into the air. “Tell me otherwise, I’ll won’t stop for a second to pull down those trousers and suck on that—”
“Okay, damn, you’re horny as fuck,” Zack interjected, grinning from ear to ear. She really was a fun person, just not who he was thinking of getting down to their knees and pleasuring the fuck out of him. “It’s complicated.”
“Complicated?”
“Yeah, complicated.”
Angela groaned. “What? You messing about with a married woman? Some—”
“No, I fucked up. But I just can’t understand why me refusing to back down and not doing the usual dick move and leaving a woman to mope, she keeps pushing me away and wants time. Like, I don’t understand you women. You complain when you want the man, but when he tries, you push him away,” Zack explained, not even caring that as he slipped down onto his bum to join her on the ground, there were a few lingering stares coming from indoors through the glass.
“Let ’em stare,” she hissed, smiling as she took notice. Then she inhaled, turning back towards Zack. “I believe I can’t help you on that because I can be the same. I suppose that’s makes us so damn lovable. You really love her?”
“Yeah.”
Angela hummed to herself, a gesture of amusement. “Well, then, don’t listen. I mean, she’s gotta like you for being so determined. I mean, I know I would. Just balance it out.”
“Well, gee, thanks,” Zack replied, moaning as he dropped his head back to look at the sky. “And just so you know, Miss Angela, this look suits you better.”
“Well, thanks, handsome.” She laughed in return, following with the same motion to shift her eyes up to the sky. “And just so you know, the loved-up puppy eyes suit you. Do you mind if I have it with your brother?”
“Be my guest.”
Leaving Angela, he tried to look like he was pleasing his mother’s wishes, he mingled about with other guests, ignoring the fact he could see his father across the other side of the room, casually looking over with an amusing smile plastered on his face.
It was only a short while after he’d complimented some woman’s attire, making her blush like a beetroot, that his father stumbled over, plopping a glass of whisky in his hand as he tagged Zack along with his stroll.
“Dad,” Zack calmly said, smiling on the outside as he continued to parade that perfection towards guests.
“Zack,” his father replied, jerking his glass up to one of the elderly men who waved towards Elijah.
“What interests you this time?” Zack asked as they headed into a quieter space. It was a struggle to keep his smile projecting through his gritted teeth.
“A little birdie told me you’d persuaded the board into funding some unknown project. I hope you’re not planning on anything, Zack. I’d—oh, hello, Davis.” His father abruptly halted his words, cheerfully addressing the man who’d entered along with his wife through the front doors, dressed from head to toe in pink feathers; surely, you’d think they got hitched in Vegas. “Please, go ahead. Spirits up ahead, champagne for the lady,” he added, gesturing his free hand to the side of him before he continued in that hoarse, deadly tone. “I told you to stick to the correct path, didn’t I?”
“Why, yes.” Zack smiled, slapping his hand on his father’s back as a photographer passed by and snapped a photo. “Just doing you proud!” he said aloud, enticing his father to join in his false show of laughter.
“That’s my boy!”
Elijah stopped Zack in his tracks. “If I find out you’re messing around with those stupid ideas of yours, I’ll step in Zack.”
“Haven’t you already been?” Zack spat slyly before drifting off in the other direction.
***
At least, for the remainder of the time he spent at the party, he had Angela to talk to. It was better than conversing with those who were too busy parading around their perfect lives. At around eight o’clock, he left, got in the car, and Wickes drove him home after he’d found him snoring his head off as his phone on his lap, continuing to play a soap he had been watching before he fell asleep.
Zack was exhausted; he just didn’t have the energy in him to make it upstairs to his bedroom. Loosening his tie off and kicking off his shoes, he fell flat onto the sofa, grabbing the nearest pillow as he relaxed his head on it comfortably.
It must have literally only been a second when he heard his front door. Annoyed, he shouted out, “Door!” He realised soon after he’d sent the maid off on a week’s holiday, meaning there was only him left in that lonely, complex penthouse.
There was another series of knocks. “Okay, okay, I’m coming!” he bellowed, nearly slipping on the floor as he attempted to find his balance. With more struggles, he finally got up and hobbled over as he rubbed his eyes.
A yawn locked onto him that as he opened the door. It almost immediately dispersed away at the sight of his unexpected guest. “Claire?” Blinking several times at the brunette standing there, her hair tied up in some messy bun, and today’s clothes wrinkled by the looks of a few hours’ nap.
“Hi,” she muttered, this time her eyes anxiously stuck onto his. “Can I come in?”
“Sure—yeah, come in.” He moved aside as his heart began to thunder as she entered and stood patiently only a few steps forward. Her eyes looked around in awe, intimidated by how huge the place was. If it wasn’t for the fact that nearly all the lights were off, she probably would have continued to look around. “Sorry, I just got back,” Zack excused himself, heading for the light switch until she protested.
“No, keep them off. It’s nice seeing the skyline.” She gestured towards the huge glass windows staring out onto the city.
“Sure,” he said, walking back over and not knowing what else to do except shove his hands down his pockets. “Di—”
“So—”
“Sorry.” Zack chuckled, his eyes lingering on her blushing cheeks at their unexpected clash of words. “You first.”
Claire smiled weakly as she walked down to the sofa. “So what did you come from?”
“A party—parents’ party. It was shit, like normal,” he replied, moving to just beside her. “Should have seen all the snobs there. It’s pathetic how all those people try to mirror the perfect lives.”
Claire chuckled a little. “I suppose I wouldn’t fit in then. Having to laugh when something isn’t funny or look at least like royalty.”
“You would fit in,” Zack muttered. “I mean, I’d have to teach you, you know, the tricks of the trade for dealing with these people, but I would just teach you to be you. ’Cause you’re perfect.”
