Chapter 16 A Drinking Night
Damian was never the type to make the first move.
It was her, shamelessly clinging to him. Wherever he went, she'd find a way to tag along with her dad and brother, creating chance encounters, playing the damsel in distress, naïve one minute, savvy and cunning the next.
What finally got to Damian was a business deal.
In the world of the upper class, marriage was nothing more than a strategic tradeoff. If she stripped away her identity connected to the Astor family, the Hearsts wouldn't even warrant a glance. When the time came, a divorce settlement would lay cold on the negotiation table, turning her and her husband into nothing more than "Petitioner" and "Respondent".
Ashley took a sip of wine and muttered, "Overpowered by money, I suppose."
Hannah couldn't believe it. How could her role model be so materialistic in choosing a partner?
"Huh? Money alone isn't enough; you've got to have looks, charm, and height. Is he even handsome?"
Worried Ashley wouldn't be specific, Hannah brought up her cousin as a point of reference, "Compare him to my cousin Harold. Who’s more attractive?"
Truth be told, Damian's looks are one in a million; while many people are considered attractive, those at the very top overshadow a thousand intriguing characters. And Damian... he had more than just a pretty face.
Ashley scrutinized Harold and said, "Your cousin could have been a model. Where are you going to find someone better looking than him?"
Seizing the opportunity, Hannah stoked the fire, "Then consider my cousin, Ashley. You're in the same field, alumni, and isn't it romantic to think of transitioning from classmates to life partners? Joining our family would be drama-free. My uncle and aunt are wonderful, and they're quite well-off!"
Harold abruptly retorted, "Knock it off; Ashley's not my type, and I'm certainly not hers."
Ashley stroked her chin, pretending to ponder, "You know, Hannah, you might be onto something. Harold, maybe you should consider me next time you're looking. I'm not much of a cook, but I'm pretty solid otherwise."
Harold recoiled as if she were a ghost, "Why don't you go haunt someone else? Leave me out of it! You've bested me in debates, internships, research papers, and even outdoor survival exercises... Give it a rest!"
With a swift clap of his hands, Harold couldn't hold back, "Let me tell you a classic one. Back in sophomore year, there was this dashing New York guy interested in Ashley. She told him, 'You're nice, but we're too different culturally. Show me we can bridge that gap, and maybe we'll talk.' Then she asked him to recite some of William Wordsworth’s poetry out of nowhere. It was brutal!!"
Hannah choked on her food, laughing so hard that she sprayed it all over, “My goodness, girl, you're brutal!"
As Harold rattled off more of Ashley’s classic rejections, Hannah doubled over in fits of laughter.
Ashley ate her meal expressionless, her table manners honed since childhood and perfected over time with the Hearst family. She ate silently, taking small bites, her lipstick never smudging on the glass as she drank water, and her plate looked almost as neat when she finished as when she started, especially with fish.
"Seriously, Ashley, did you take dining lessons from royalty? Your plate is a work of art."
"Want to learn?"
Looking between the two plates, Hannah meekly shook her head, "No, I'm good with my less polished ways."
Seeing Ashley reach for another drink, Harold cut in, "You shouldn't be drinking with your wound. We'll save it for you when you're better."
"Oh right, Ashley, it must be difficult for you to apply medication to your back on your own. How about I help you with it before you head back?"
After dinner, Ashley hung around a while longer, enjoying some fruit, tending to her wounds, and after a chat, it was already ten at night. Harold escorted her downstairs, waiting for her ride-hailing.
"It's gotten cooler out, and you're dressed so lightly; don't catch a cold."
Without a second thought, Harold slipped off his coat and wrapped it around her, "Bring this to my law firm tomorrow."
The coat carried his scent and residual warmth. Ashley pulled it closer, "You're so thoughtful; it's a wonder you're still single."
Harold quipped, "Maybe I haven't found the right person yet."
Ashley joked back, "Should I suggest some dating apps to you?"
"Enough with the jokes. Get in the car and go home."
---
"You busy? How about a drink?"
Damian sat in his office four hours past the end of his shift, surrounded by paperwork, yet undeterred.
Receiving Hayden's call, Damian retorted, unamused, "Isn't there a bar near your place? Go there if you're looking to drink."
"Ease up, man. What's got you so uptight today? Remember, if you bail on drinks tonight, don't come to me with regrets later."
Damian stayed silent, ready to end the call.
Sensing his friend's usual temper, Hayden drew out his words with a teasing tone, "Man, Ashley's looking fine. She's even more stunning than she was three years ago, more composed, mature, and sophisticated. Imagine the heads she'd turn walking down the street. How many guys do you think would be green with envy?"
"You wouldn't dare touch her, would you?"
"Come on, man. I wouldn't make a move on my buddy's girl. I do have some standards, after all. But, if you don't appreciate what you've got, I wouldn't mind stepping in," Hayden reassured. Although he had always been overshadowed by Damian, they grew up together as best friends. Hayden had come to be aware of Damian's temper completely, even managing to figure out a unique way of handling their friendship, getting it down to a science.
Just when the anticipation reached its peak, Damian finally replied, "Twenty minutes."
Hayden couldn't help but grin, "We'll pop open that bottle of Champagne Billecart-Salmon you've been saving; don't be stingy."
It wasn't that Damian couldn't afford the pricey bottle of bubbly worth tens of thousands; it was a fine wine, scarce and not readily sold. Hayden wasn't lacking the cash; it was about the opportunity to indulge in such an exquisite beverage.
Damian brushed it off nonchalantly, "You're too much."
"You'll see it's worth every penny."
The Blue Star Club.
Damian's upscale establishment was a regular spot for him and his friends.
With top service, advanced security, and privacy in a prime location, it was a place of luxury.
In the exclusive suite, the scent of champagne filled the air. Hayden relaxed on the couch, flanked by two stunning companions, one in red and one in white, enjoying the night's indulgences.
His skilled hands played with a lock of hair of the girls as he greeted Damian, “Always punctual, Mr. Damian. Twenty minutes exactly."
