"Jeremy?"

"Dad. You're looking rather um... swashbuckling tonight." It wasn't easy hiding my amusement, not only at the irony of my father opting to be dressed as a dread pirate but also at the arrogance that he could pull off the look without looking like an overstuffed penguin wearing a Captain's hat and an ego the size of the Pacific ocean.

"Good lord Jeremy! What is that you're wearing?" The sheer outrage I was witnessing was worth every second of the base humiliation I was enduring with every stare and snicker from the other guests at my outfit. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Clearly I am. I came home, didn't I?" My father looked as if he were trying to say something, his guppy-like mouth moving, yet no sound was forthcoming. "Relax Dad; I will remain out of sight. As always. There are insurmountable rewards to being your invisible son." Walking away from my dad had always been the easiest thing in the world for me. I turned back briefly, taking no delight in my triumphant moment. "Or as the case just may soon be... your invisible daughter. I am sure that the operation will be worth every penny you are going to be spending on it." The expression on his face truly was priceless, yet it brought me little joy.

I grabbed a bottle of Cherry Vodka off the bar as I passed it.

"Would you like a glass with that, sir?" The barman's tone was polite, but it was amusing to watch him try not to lower his gaze to my padded chest.

"Nope. Just the pink drink for the pink son." I winked at the barman. It was a treat to watch as he tried to keep on his professional face.

I could not believe I had agreed to attend Dad's party; this was not how I had wanted to be spending my first Friday night home after nearly two years in Europe.

Chill the fuck out, Jer. No one here will even care if you slip away, but why give the waddling egomaniac the satisfaction of leaving now?

The ballroom was alive, too alive. Much as I wanted to stand right there in the middle of the party and flash my boobs – fake as they may be – to the crowd for no other reason than being the petty son of Lawrence J Channing the third, my heels were killing me. That and an unmentionable thing I'd had to do with duct tape to keep things from shifting around.

The patio. Yes. If none of Dad's marionettes had invaded it, my feet would be eternally grateful.

After a short while of sitting in the dark sipping at warm Vodka, boredom overtook me and I started to scan the ballroom in a dreary game of trying to pin the name to the donkey. I managed to recognize more of Dad's acquaintances than I had expected to, finding it funny how my father could fill a ballroom – it truly was an impressively large ballroom by most standards – with that many people, yet none of them could call themselves his friend. Lawrence J Channing did not have friends; he had acquaintances and business partners. 

▼▲▼

We were ushered inside by a smartly dressed older man in butler costume complete with top hat, which he lifted as he bowed ceremoniously. "Good evening. You may check your coat through that door over there, ma'am." He pointed toward a door on the other side of the entrance hall.

"Thank you." I nodded to him politely before turning to Jack with a kid-in-a-candy-store smile, still internally fan-girling because I'd never been anywhere that had an actual butler before. "Baby, I will just be a sec."

After checking my coat and bag, I slipped the faux-feather white and silver wings onto my shoulders. They flitted softly as I moved, making me smile at my reflection as I passed a full-length mirror; the white dress fitting snuggly over my bust, flaring out from just below its smocked waistline with the hem swaying softly to around mid-thigh.

Oh! Jack baby, you're going to love this. 

Jack's expression as I stepped out of the cloakroom was almost comical. His eyes grew big as ping-pong balls, looking like they would pop out of his head and roll onto the dance floor. His jaw dropped as his mouth formed a big O; he continued to stare at me as I drew closer. I smiled brightly before doing a twirl that made the skirt lift and flow seductively with me, taking his reaction as approval of how sexy I looked in my costume.

"So, do you like?"

My first hint that he wasn't happy was when his eyes narrowed to tiny dark slits in his bright red face and his hands balled into tight fists at his sides. "What the fuck were you thinking coming dressed like that?" he hissed between clenched teeth. "Put your coat back on. Now!"

I reeled back at the vehemence of his softly spoken words. "I most certainly will not. What is wrong with what I'm wearing?" I lifted my chin and stared back at him defiantly. 

He grabbed my arm and pulled me toward a quiet corner. "You look like a damn slut, that is what's wrong with what you're wearing. You will not emba..." 

"Jack!" came a jovial voice from behind us. "When did you get here, old man?"

Jack looked at me with a glint of steel in his eyes before turning toward the voice. "Edward! We just got here a few minutes ago. We were late; you know what women are like." He laughed. 

"Yes, I do. They are delightful creatures; there isn't anything we won't forgive them for," Edward said as his eyes swept my body with open appreciation. "And who might this angelic creature be, Jack?" 

"I'm sorry. Edward, this is my uh... friend, Trisha," Jack said in a clipped tone.

Edward bowed from the waist as he reached for my hand and lifted it to his lips, his eyes never leaving mine. "Charmed to make your acquaintance, Trisha." He smiled as he straightened back up; flashing a set of fangs that looked as real as any I'd ever imagined a vampire to brandish.

I smiled warmly back at him, not missing the annoyance in Jack's eyes as Edward's thumb stroked lightly over my hand that he was still holding. "It is indeed a pleasure." 

I nodded.

"Would you mind terribly if I borrowed her for a short while, Jack? I promise to take very good care of her." Jack looked as if he was about to protest. "My father is over by the bar, I am sure that he is wondering where you are," Edward said, the veiled threat in his tone not going unnoticed by either of us. 

"Yes, I am sure that he is wondering where I am. Will you be alright, Trisha?" Jack asked without looking at me, his attention somewhere close to the large patio windows near the bar area.

I nodded and without further hesitation, Jack turned and made his way into the lavishly decorated ballroom. 

"Can I get you anything? A drink? Maybe a tiny nibble?" Edward flashed his fangs at me again. 

I laughed, "A drink would be nice."

▼▲▼

The dance floor had become a mass of gyrating bodies in no time at all; I could only assume that it was a combination of the lively beat coming from the skilled band and the alcohol flowing freely. My gaze travelled beyond the crowd and settled on a couple in the entrance hall I did not recognise, the woman trailing a few steps behind the man, her face alive with unabashed wonder.

Now that is exactly how Cinderella looked when she entered the ballroom.

Bertram directed her toward the cloakroom and to my surprise I found myself tapping my foot impatiently, as I waited for her to exit – inexplicably curious about the outfit she would've chosen. She emerged a short while later, and I was not disappointed by the angelic vision in white, her excitement evident clear across the room. The dungy beige coat had been abandoned to reveal a provocative white dress that somehow radiated a touch of innocence, as well as a set of wings that fluttered lightly as she moved.

She drew a smile from me when she twirled like a little girl wearing a new dress; such unpretentious grace was rare at the shindigs my father hosted. Her companion did not seem at all impressed; his stance even from a distance was clearly one of displeasure. Unbridled anger welled up inside of me as he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her unceremoniously into a corner of the foyer, his body tightened in anger, her shoulders squared in defiance as obviously heated words were exchanged between them.

The fuck was that about? If only I were closer.

It was impossible to hear what they were saying, but his disapproval was tangible even from a distance. I was about to go over and intervene when my brother appeared and appeared to save the day. I wasn't sure which of the evils were worse.

Do you always have to be the fucking knight in sparkling armour, Edward? Even when we both know that you're more like a fiend in need.

"I was wondering where you're hiding, Jer."

I did not have to turn to know whom the sultry voice belonged to. "Preying on the unsuspecting innocent again, Morgan?"

Her throaty laugh excited me every bit as much as it annoyed me. "My darling Jer, you've not been innocent since the day I weaned you off your diapers."

"That's not all you weaned me off, Morgan. So let's not forget that you had a hand in my loss of innocence... more than just a hand, way I remember."

"You've never complained before..." Her fingers caressed my bare shoulders as she spoke.

"You know what they say, better to have loved and lost than to be eaten alive by a crocodile." I turned to flash her my sweetest smile. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a date with a bottle of vodka and a razor blade."

Morgan had been the one person I had hoped not to run into at the party, daughter to my father's most trusted employee, she had become my nanny when I was still a young boy. At fifteen years my senior she still looked every bit the hot vixen I had lost my virginity to all those years ago. After her father's death a few years ago, she had replaced him as my father's confidant. One more reason why I could never trust her.

"Your loss, darling." She leaned in to nuzzle my ear with her lips sending shivers of desire coursing through me. "By the way, you're really rocking that outfit. And if you were trying to give your father a cadenza, it's working." She threw her head back and laughed heartily before sauntering back into the party.

I turned back to scan the room for the mystery angel, but I had lost her in the crowd.

Dammit!

I could see her devil escort in a far corner of the room hanging on my father's every word as if they were rivulets of gold dripping from a rusted faucet. That would mean that...

Fuck! Where the hell is Edward?

The party was fast becoming rowdier and it was hard to see beyond the whirling mass of bodies without leaving the comfort of my darkened hideaway.

Why am I so intrigued by this woman? Why do I even care if she is about to become just another notch on my brother's ego plated bursting-to-capacity belt?

I did not care, not really.

I moved back into the shadows where I had a good view of the dance floor as well as the corner where my father was conducting his business in quiet oblivion to the party around him. The devil at his side kept throwing impatient glances across the room and as the throng of revellers cleared, I spotted her again.

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