Haunt [Aidan Hunter series book 2] [RE-WRITING]

Chapter 6

Golden Imperial Club. As ostentatious as its name.

I entered a large banquet hall, where there were about fifty guests. Wealthy, influential individuals chattering with one another. The place was illuminated in a bright golden glow by rounded light fixtures on the ceiling, with one crystal spiral chandelier at the center. The floor was covered by an intricately patterned carpet. The tables and chairs were draped in white linen. A vase with roses sat in the middle of each table.

The others had arrived long before I did. Honestly, formal events weren't my thing. In fact, events weren't my thing at all. I hated crowd and loud noises, and too much socializing. In fact, I hadn't even owned a tux before tonight. Charlie had better get some valuable information from this suspect of his, otherwise all the time I spent grooming myself would be for naught.

I found Henry near the open bar, with a glass of Bourbon. Last I remembered, he said he didn't drink. Neither of us did, in fact. I despised smoking and alcohol.

His tux looked like it could've been molded to him. I took a moment to appreciate the broadness of his shoulders and the neatness of his bowtie. The man probably knew how to tie one. I tugged at mine self-consciously, which despite my best efforts was still lopsided. I felt the need to make sure I looked the part, to impress him. It took me a moment to realize I was staring at him too long and another brief moment to pull my senses together.

Buttoning my cuffs, I went to him. "Henry."

He took a sip of the Bourbon and turned to me. "Mm?"

He glanced at me and spluttered on his drink. I didn't expect that sort of a reaction. I wasn't sure if that was positive or not.

"You brush up nice," he said. "Don't think I've seen you in a tux before."

"You don't look too bad yourself," I said.

He raised an eyebrow. "You actually made the effort to groom your hair. And you trimmed your stubble."

"Well, there's someone here I wanted to impress."

Coughing a little, he glanced away and took another sip of his drink. I shook out my hands – weird they felt like shaking – and dragged my gaze away from the brown highlights in his quiff.

"Where's the kid?" I asked. "He better not keep us waiting."

Henry gestured to the corner of the room with his glass. "He's already making his way to the target."

Charlie looked like a child in that tuxedo. I was sure he tried his best to look professional but dear Lord. He could try interrogating Margaret, but I doubt she'd take him seriously. I sure as hell couldn't.

"He looks like a seventh grader on his first prom," I said.

Henry snorted. He gulped down the last bit of alcohol before ordering another. "Old-fashioned."

"Are you serious?"

"Oh, it's not for me." He grinned. "It's for you."

"Hell no."

"Come on, give it a try."

The bartender served the Old-fashioned on the rocks. Henry handed it to me.

"In case you forgot my sensitivity to alcohol—" I said.

"It's just one glass," he said. "Come on, live a little."

I swilled the auburn liquid in the glass. It sure didn't look that bad. I took a sip and swallowed; it burned my throat and I coughed, slamming the glass back down.