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A black and white suit tailored to perfection, a pair of Italian leather shoes, and my hair styled in the most mundane manner. I hate these kind of things. Especially this night in particular.
When all of my father’s colleagues, the New York elite, gather together to remind everyone on the outside just how much better they are. My dad, Fred Andrews’, birthday dinner was one of the most exclusive nights of the year, unless you were delivered a hand-written note on $4000 stationary by the man of the hour himself, you aren’t getting past security. My dad is the CEO and founder of the biggest architecture firm in the United States which consequently makes him one of the richest men in the country. Politicians, celebrities, artists, everyone in New York was dying to know what happened behind the doors of the Rose Club every February 5th.
Honestly, it’s nothing that exciting. Fantastic food, enough booze for an entire country, a shit load of rich (mostly white) people wearing evening wear that was more expensive than the average mortgage payment, and a lot of business deals. It’s no different than any other snooty rich people party.
Only tonight, I’d have to down an extra glass of champagne or two because my new ex-girlfriend was sitting right next to me. Betty Cooper and I had been dating for nine months before last night when she dumped me out of the blue without giving me much reason other than, “It’s just not working”. Of course, she showed up to my father’s dinner party anyways because why wouldn’t she? Part of me (the part of me who’s best friends with Jughead Jones) thinks she only dated me this long to snag an invite to my father’s party, but the other part trusts her more than that. The former is stronger.
She looks pretty. She’s wearing a long baby blue evening gown that matches her skin nicely and her hair’s down. She never takes it out of a ponytail. She hasn’t talked to me at all night long and I’m tempted to tap her on the shoulder and tell her she looks nice, but I figure I shouldn’t risk upsetting her in front of everyone. I take another sip from my champagne and do my best to look entertained while one of my father’s colleagues tries to strike up a conversation.
She asks me about work and how I felt about being promoted to senior architect at my father’s firm so quickly and I have to say what I always say, “It’s such a great job. I love working with my dad. I can’t believe I’m so lucky.” And to be fair, it’s partly true. I am lucky, it is a great job, and I do love working alongside my father, but I don’t give a shit about the family business and I hate being an architect.
I sound ungrateful, I know, but I’m not. I love my father and I’m proud of him for everything he’s been able to achieve, but I’ve known since I was fourteen that this wasn’t what I wanted to do, and now, over a decade later I’m stuck in a job that means nothing to me when so many others would kill to be in my position.
I take another sip of my champagne. This is gonna be a long night.
“Archie”
My father says my name with a seriousness that I’ll never get used to. Usually his voice is jovial and playful, especially on this night. “Yeah?” I say, turning my head towards him to see what all of the fuss is about. He’s looking off towards the door and for a second I’m confused; until I see them.
All three members of the Lodge family had walked through the doors wearing smiles that to the untrained eye looked genuine, but to my father and I were a clear declaration of war.
My father’s feud with the Lodge family was infamous in the business world and went all the way back to before I was born. No one really knows what started it all, including myself, but most of us speculated that it had something to do with Hermione Lodge, Hiram’s wife and the CEO of a major production studio. The Lodges were some of the most conniving, self-absorbed, heartless, people in the business world including, but not limited to, their only daughter, Veronica Lodge.
Veronica and I had been in the same class every year starting in third grade. She was two years younger than I was, but she was a genius (on top of being rich and beautiful) and skipped two grades. We’d spent our entire adolescence at odds and I always seemed to come in second place. She beat me out for valedictorian by point two, I got second place to her in the science fair every year, and she’d won class president by less than ten votes. Veronica was always a step or two ahead and as much as I hated her, she deserved it most of the time. She’s a fucking genius. A model, actress, author, and successful business woman at only the tender age of twenty-five while I’d spent the last six years at a job I hated to please my dad. I envied her.
Outside of a huge billboard of her latest Dior campaign that I’m sure was strategically placed outside my Manhattan apartment, this was the first time I was seeing Veronica since our high school graduation.
And I was staring. Like a lot. Veronica cocks a perfectly shaped eyebrow up at me as if to ask why the hell I’m looking at her, and I can only manage to tear my eyes away for a few seconds. Her hair’s a lot longer than the last time I saw her, it’s falling a few inches past her shoulders and it’s parted in the middle now. I like it better like this.
I’m staring again and I glance over at Hiram and Hermione who are shaking my father’s hand like they’re old friends. Like they don’t have spies planted in each other’s businesses or like my father hadn’t tipped the FBI off about some of Hiram’s illegal deals. I nearly chuckle, instead I just finish off my drink.
My dad is the first to speak, “Hiram, Hermione, what a surprise.” he says which actually means “Crashing my birthday party? How tacky.” They’re all smiling and Hiram leans into my dad as he shakes his hand, “Well our invitation just seems to get lost in the mail every year so we figured we’d just stop by. We hate missing your little parties.” Dad twitches a little bit when he hears the last part and I put a supportive hand on his back.
All of the other guests have their eyes on us, including Betty. We make eye contact for a second and she looks away before I can even muster up a smile, I just sigh and look at my empty glass of champagne and then over at the Lodges. Veronica has the same mischievous smirk on her face that she has every time she has a good idea and her eyes move between her father, my father, and I. This can’t be good. I need a drink.
“It was lovely seeing you here Mr. and Mrs. Lodge, but I’m running low so I’m going to get another drink.” I tell them, my hand still resting on my father’s shoulder. Before anyone can say anything else, Veronica chimes in, “I’ll join you.” She says and before I can protest she’s already got a grip on my arm. It’s firm yet gentle, letting me know that I don’t have a choice in the matter. I just smile at her, it’s a weak smile, but still a smile.
We’re standing in front of the bar when she finally speaks, picking up two glasses of champagne for the both of us. “So, Archiekins. How’re you doing? It’s been awhile.” I take the champagne glass from her and take a small sip to prepare myself. It’s small talk. Veronica Lodge doesn’t do small talk. “It has, yeah. Almost ten years since graduation, right? I’m doing...okay.” I say hesitantly, Veronica’s looking over her shoulder at her father and she’s got a hand slowly stroking my arm. I can’t even imagine what my face must look like.
“Good. I hear you’re working for your father. You must love that, daddy’s boy.” She says it without looking at me and without caution, as if she’s sure of every word that comes out of her mouth. She’s looking at me again now and she’s standing a little too close smelling a little too good.
“Yeah I...uh..guess.” I can barely speak full sentences now, Veronica’s set her drink down on the bar next to us and is adjusting my likely crooked bow tie, I never really learned how to put them on. Her fingers are fast and graceful and they brush up against my skin a couple of times. I’m confused for a minute, Veronica has a reputation for being a bit…handsy, but she always kept at a friendly distance with me. What game is she playing?
“What are you doing, Ronnie?” It slips out like we’re in Mrs. Smith’s AP Bio class again and we both look at each other for a second. It’s almost like she smiles at me, a sincere one, before she rolls her eyes and tells me that she’s fixing my bow tie and if I’d just learn to tie one like a real man I’d have nothing to worry about. I take another swig of champagne. Just like old times.
When she’s finished with my bow tie she places a hand on my chest right where my heart is and takes a step forward, “Is my father looking over here?” She asks in a sickly-sweet tone, I look up from my drink and over to where our parents are. They’re staring daggers at us and I just nod my head. Hiram Lodge’s stare could scare a tiger into submission and I try to take a step back in fear, but Ronnie keeps me close. “Perfect.” She says it like this was her plan all along and part of me thinks it is.
“Veronica, what the hell are you doing?” I whisper, trying to look anywhere, but back at Hiram. Veronica laughs a clearly fake laugh to anyone who knows her well enough, but ignores my question. “Are you still seeing that blonde girl sitting next to you?” Veronica asks, picking up her champagne again and taking a graceful sip.
I wonder how she knows about Betty before I remember that she’s Veronica Lodge and she knows everything, “Betty? No, not really. Why?” I ask cocking a cautious eyebrow at her. She brings a hand up to my shoulder and gives me a very specific look that says something even I don’t understand. “Relax, Andrews. If I wanted in your pants, I would’ve done something about it years ago. I just don’t need anyone getting in the way of what I came here to do.”
“Ronnie, what the hell are you up to?” She smiles at me, the same devious smirk that’s been on her lips since the second she set foot in the club. “Relax.” She tells me before getting up on her tippy toes, even while in heels she’s much shorter than me, and planting a quick, chaste, kiss on my lips.