Bad intentions, p.7
Bad Intentions, page 7
Vivienne has never even heard of someone taking this many hours to get ready for a party, but when Ruby steps from her dressing room in a white off-the-shoulder cocktail dress with silver beaded tendrils at her waist that fits like she's been poured into it, Vivienne decides the rigamarole has been absolutely worth it.
"Damn, Ginger," Vivienne says. "And I thought you looked good in yoga pants."
"I do look good in yoga pants. But I agree with the sentiment behind that remark; this is much more my speed."
"I'm mostly interested in the speed with which you can take it off."
"I'll let you set a timer. Later. But I get to take you out of that one first."
Vivienne chuckles. She's more comfortable in the dress she's chosen than she thought she'd be, even though the matching shoes are too pointy for comfort, and she's sure her hair is too big. The plunging neckline and spaghetti straps of the pewter beaded mini dress show off more of her tattoos than she thought would be deemed acceptable for an industry party. But according to the stylist's assistant who'd zipped her into the dress, times have changed since her last foray into the music scene.
The dress is short, it's form-fitting, and it's lined in the softest silk Vivienne has ever worn outside the bedroom; outside Ruby's bedroom to be exact. It's a party dress that feels like top tier lingerie, and the way Ruby is looking at her right now only reinforces that feeling.
"Deal," she says.
~
Vivienne doesn't remember industry parties being like this. Maybe it's just the alcoholic haze and the general blur of youth in hindsight that cause the inconsistency. Or maybe she just hadn't been invited to the right parties, or she skipped them to get drunk or do drugs and jam in some dive.
This one is something else.
For one thing, there isn't a bar. That is: there must be a bar, there has to be--somewhere--only the fifty or so guests don't have direct access to it. Instead, a small army of staff is constantly circulating, seeing to it no one's glass runs dry.
Vivienne and Ruby had each been handed a French 75 when they'd stepped off the elevator and each time her glass is less than half full, Vivienne finds a fresh drink being slipped into her hand by a careful and attentive server. It's a little weird, but she could definitely get used to this level of service.
There's music being piped in from somewhere, soft enough that conversation is easy, but loud enough to keep the rooms from falling silent.
Rooms, plural.
The wall alongside the fiftieth-floor elevator appears to have vanished, as has the wall containing Ruby's front door. The top floor of the penthouse stands now as one gigantic open space, with the party room on the elevator side open to the sitting room opposite. The giant sitting room with its little corner wet bar (not currently in use as such, she notes with consternation), oddly placed television, and spare furnishings makes more sense now; it's less a personal sitting room and more an entertaining space. Additional sofas matching the two usual ones have been brought in from somewhere, and the television has been raised off its day-to-day perch. It hangs high on the wall now, silent, but with behind-the-scenes reels of popular music videos playing on loop.
Both rooms are all glass on the Starcom Tower side, curtains and shades drawn aside for a full view of the skyline beyond. Vivienne wonders whether that's at all for the benefit of Ruby's recently single penthouse neighbor, but she doesn't ask.
What she does ask about is the bandstand. A small stage is set up in the corner of the party room opposite what Vivienne can only guess is the service door to the prep areas and kitchen. Upon it sits a bass, two guitars, a keyboard, a trap set, and a pair of microphones on stands.
"You booked a band for this?" Vivienne asks as she walks with Ruby to do a final inspection of the space just as the first guests are beginning to arrive.
"Nothing so exciting as that," Ruby answers, tapping an amplifier cord with the toe of her silver satin shoes to check that it's taped down correctly. "But put enough musicians in a room together and a jam session is bound to break out. Good things can come of letting them have fun and play together, so I like to make sure they're properly equipped."
"You gonna get up and sing?"
Ruby scoffs. "Absolutely not. Although the kids have been known to talk me into picking up the bass."
"Woman after my own heart," Vivienne says. "Also, I would like to see that."
"Perhaps you will." Ruby brushes a perfectly sculpted lock of hair out of her eyes. "But probably not tonight. Remember, this isn't a real party."
"Could have fooled me."
"Good. That's the point." Ruby raises her glass. "Mike and Katy can't suspect it's all a pretense. So it has to look just right."
As far as Vivienne is concerned, "just right" is an understatement. It's flawless. No one would believe the whole thing was thrown together in just a few days. But again, that was the whole idea. This party is yet another example of Ruby knowing what she wants and how to get it. There's a reason she's one of the world's most successful CEOs.
Tonight's guest list is what Ruby calls "last-minute" and "sparse," but there are clearly fifty or more people milling around. The assembled crowd is mingling, talking shop, nibbling on the strange-looking hors d'oeuvres being passed through the two rooms on tiny silver trays, and seeming to generally enjoy themselves.
Vivienne recognizes at least half the people here, mostly from television, but a few from album covers and publicity posters she first saw when she and Ruby had initially attempted to oust the demon Ramisiel from the building. Those particular posters never did get replaced--they were hopelessly corrupted by demon sap--but Ruby had taken the opportunity to redecorate, almost as though she had planned the whole thing specifically for this party. Ruby has that way about her, where one can never say what is intentional and what is serendipity.
In a way, the fact that the battle with Ramisiel was barely more than a year ago is positively mind-boggling. Because sometimes it feels like Ruby has been part of her world forever. But on the other hand, she's not sure she'll ever feel completely at home in this land of opulence and bottomless cocktails. Not that she isn't enjoying herself.
Ruby is a charming hostess all night, greeting newcomers, making introductions, and generally being the life of the party. Vivienne is impressed, if not surprised. There is an undercurrent of tension, however--that same sort of anxiety Vivienne so rarely gets to glimpse or feel. And the feeling only deepens as first one hour passes, then another.
"No Jaccob?" Vivienne asks, guessing at the cause. "I half expected to see him at some point."
"Half wanted to see him, you mean."
"Maybe I just wanted to see you blush."
"He was not invited." Ruby drowns that in half a glass of cocktail, which she apparently drank too fast, because she winces, only a little bit.
"But he knows about the party. Hence the windows."
"Of course," Ruby says. "Apparently he called and left his regrets with Lillia. Didn't say what conflict he had, the cad. Superhero business, probably. Or a lonely night in. Either way."
"Sounds like you wanted to see him."
"If Mike actually shows up, that'll be quite enough Stevens representation, thank you."
Vivienne's proved right, though, at least about the anxiety. When Mike Stevens and his plus-one arrive, Ruby's able to loosen up and get in the proper mood for reveling.
For Vivienne's empathy powers, it takes exactly ten seconds to tell, from the wave of earnest goodwill tinged with nerves, that this girl is totally fine. Great, even. Adorably perfect.
Ruby takes a little longer, of course. Not that anyone at the party might have known she was anything but totally relaxed. Vivienne, though, has learned to read Ruby even when her magic is in the way. And as much of that magical shield as she's wearing tonight, Vivienne has no problem spotting that she cares about Mike and earnestly hopes this girl is what she seems.
Katy Wolsten is a darling girl, around Ruby's height, with long, honey-highlighted chestnut hair that she wears in gentle waves down her back. She's dressed like the southerner she is, in a short chiffon frock with puffed sleeves and a floral print.
"Miss Ruby. Such a pleasure to meet you."
Katy offers an adorable little half curtsey--exactly the sort of thing Ruby would like--and no attempt to hug her, which Mike would probably know isn't Ruby's thing. So far so good.
"C'mon," Vivienne says, detaching from Ruby and putting her arms out.
Katy hugs her quite readily, and some of her nerves dissipate. Which tells Vivienne two things: she's comfortable with people, and she has no idea who Vivienne is. Most people would hesitate before hugging an infamous cape with a history of demonic possession, but Katy is just genuinely happy to make a good impression.
And the way she looks at Mike says everything Vivienne needs to know about what she's after, and it isn't fame or money. It's just Mike.
It's clear that Ruby can tell that, too. Everyone is happy. Especially Mike.
Which means their hostess is, too.
"She's a good hugger," Vivienne whispers to Ruby as they leave the kids whispering excitedly to each other.
"I can't imagine why you thought I'd need you to tell me that."
"You could probably tell."
"Hmm."
Ruby has her arm around Vivienne's waist for a good portion of the night. This is probably the kind of thing that was on the table when she asked Vivienne to choose between being "a" guest and "her" guest for the party. She wonders how many hours of beauty regimen were also in play. The party prep had felt excessive, but Vivienne is still pleased with her choice. Being queen-adjacent in a room full of entertainment royalty is more fun than she'd have guessed. Ruby refuses to dance with her, of course, even when a well-known trio takes the bandstand. Honestly, Vivienne's more than happy to sidle up in a back corner between tours of the party, which is even more fun than dancing.
When Ruby's phone buzzes, Vivienne only plays at a pouty face. Ruby has been back and forth with the security office all night in hopes of getting Katy's credential in order while she's still in the building. Vivienne still wants to needle her about the way she bends over backwards for their mutual ex-lover's son like literally no other human alive, but she's willing to leave it alone for the time being--at least until the handsome boy in question is no longer in the room with them.
When Ruby looks up from her screen, Vivienne can see in her eyes the news isn't good. Either Mike's girlfriend is turning out to be an international terrorist, or ...
"V," Ruby whispers.
Vivienne can sense her upset even through her masking--maybe it's just how well they know each other, but Vivienne can tell from Ruby's tone that something is very, very wrong.
"What is it?" she asks quietly. "Something about Katy?"
Ruby shakes her head. "It's Antonio."
"What?" Vivienne's guts lurch. She takes a sip of her cocktail, allowing the tingle from the sparkling wine on her tongue to distract her from the sudden bout of nausea. She figures losing the contents of her stomach on the quartz terrazzo floor in front of all the other guests wouldn't be a popular move. "What about Tony?"
"He's here," Ruby says in a whisper.
"Here?" Vivienne manages to stifle a choking cough. "Tony's here? In Cobalt City?"
"Here in the building," Ruby says. "And it looks like he brought a pair of henchmen, too."
"How hard are they crashing the party?" Vivienne asks. "They just weren't invited, or they're breaking in?"
"Well, nobody's fired any weapons, but they didn't exactly check in with the doorman, so--"
"Fuck."
"My sentiments exactly." Ruby seems uncertain, which is worrisome. "Do you think he knows you're here?"
"No idea. I wouldn't put it past him to be tracking me, but I don't know why he'd choose to come after me here. I'm a lot more vulnerable in a lot of other places."
"Yeah, you have a point," Ruby answers. "How ... How do you think he will react to seeing you?"
Vivienne isn't sure. They came to a kind of arrangement after their clash in Ruby's tower, and they've seen each other a few times since--sometimes under positive circumstances, sometimes very much not so--and she never knows what to expect with him. Only once this past summer, and the way they left things ... She shakes her head.
"We should get these people out of here."
"No."
"No?"
"No." Ruby shakes her head vigorously. "They haven't made it past the lobby yet, and that's the plaza-side lobby, and those elevators won't work without my say-so. Even if they were to manage to hack the system, they won't get farther than the office--the plaza side elevators don't go any higher than that. And security to the penthouse is the best in the world. The private floors are a little more hardened than the party room, but still ... These people are far safer up here than they would be trying to leave."
"Okay, you have a point. So what do we do then? Do we just call security?"
"I'm afraid if we call, they'll lock down the party," Ruby says. "And I'd rather not have to do that if we can avoid it. Everyone will panic and that won't help the situation."
Ruby exchanges a few words and cheek kisses with a pair of male actors Vivienne vaguely recognizes, then declines their attempts at small talk and dismisses them with the casual elegance one only develops over decades of practice.
Vivienne bites her lip and tries not to freak out.
Vengeance ... she hears in the back of her mind.
"No," she whispers. "You fuck all the way off."
"V?" The actor bros are gone, and Ruby is looking at her levelly.
"Nothing." Vivienne shakes her head. "What's our move?"
"I've got things I can do from here," Ruby replies, taking her by the hand and leading her toward the elevator lobby.
"What kind of things?" Vivienne asks her. "Because with the kind of tech The Raven hauls around with him--"
"One day," Ruby says, interrupting her, "I will let you read the absolutely scathing email my head of security sent our account rep at Starcom specifically calling out the fact The Raven put a bullet through one of my office windows that could easily have killed me. We had specific Anti-Raven upgrades installed when we did the repairs from the demon damage. Turns out Starcom has a whole file on the motherfucker." She smiles and waves at someone else she knows, whispering through her teeth. "Apparently Stardust had dealings with him a few years back."
"Yeah--" Vivienne's not sure now is the time to share the salient details of that episode. But, then again, she's pretty sure that time is never. "I kind of knew that."
It's a hedge and she knows it, but Ruby seems satisfied to leave it there.
"Well," Ruby says, "I had them outfit this place to combat everything they could even guess he might be capable of, including a few things they had to invent for the occasion."
"You did?"
"You're damn right I did. I wasn't sure yet whether you'd ever speak to me again. But I was already working on the bracelet, and in case you decided you weren't going to hate me forever--" She smiles at a partygoer across the way. "Knowing there was somebody out there who, it seems, would kill you the first chance he gets, and well aware that I almost gave him that chance, I wanted there to be someplace in the world where you were safe from him. And so I built it."
"Damn, Ginger." Vivienne's not sure she has the words for how that makes her feel. But even if she could find the right words, now's not the time to break down and say them. But she has to say something. "That's ... you didn't have to do that."
"But I did it," Ruby says, as though she hasn't just revealed the single kindest, most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for Vivienne in her life. "And it's done. And the fact he dared to come here tonight means he likely has no idea. Or he's every bit as arrogant as I took him for. Either way, we have the advantage."
"So ... what? We're just going to head down to the lobby and kick his ass?"
"Not the lobby." The elevator arrives and Ruby hauls Vivienne into it. She offers fake smiles and nods until the doors shut, then her face goes deadly serious. "You've got a fear charge?"
"There were enough people worried about making a good impression at the party," Vivienne says. "Also, you can be a little intimidating, Miss Boss Bitch."
Ruby looks pleased. "It'll do."
The Goblin Records flagship store in the middle of the night is nearly as creepy as it had been in the early stages of demon possession. The screens are on, but no longer streaming the content fed to them from the corporate server during business hours. The result is a ribbon of glowing off-black that reflects unnervingly off the copious brass fixtures. The crimson-colored carpet looks approximately the shade of clotting blood, and the flickers of the streetlights through the store's windows are enough to make Vivienne jumpy.
Or maybe it's just the knowledge Tony is in the next room.
Vivienne tries to calm herself by focusing on facts. This building had been a fucking fortress even before the recent Raven-specific upgrades. She'd gotten a primer on the tower when she'd first agreed to help Ruby with the Ramisiel situation, and a pretty detailed understanding of how things work while Azazel had effectively owned the place.
There are only three ways out of the plaza side lobby: the plaza door, the elevator bank, or through an interior door and down a brief hallway into the retail store. The door to the outside automatically sealed itself just as soon as it had been breached. The Raven had managed to get in through the door's basic digital/mechanical system. But the building is designed to know when the lock has been overcome and to trap any would-be intruder in that little lobby until authorities arrive with the override code. The elevators are similarly equipped, with an automatic system that seals their doors shut and locks both cars on the forty-seventh floor the moment the plaza door's security lock engages. The third door, the one that leads into the store, is also hardened to automatically seal itself in the face of a break-in.
Ruby says they have the upper hand, and she's probably right. That's less comforting than Vivienne wants it to be. But it's not nothing.
