no control

• thirty one •

elijah

My angel waded through the entrance of the golden-bathed foyer. Honey gold light radiated from enormous chandeliers overhead, glowing off the marble that covered the surface of every floor, pillar, stair, and wall. The space was mostly quiet except for the infrequent pitch of a voice from nearby, the ballroom probably.

"This is gorgeous," she murmured.

I looked her over and felt the strongest urge to grab her by the supple swells of her hips. "You're gorgeous."

She flashed me a coy, delighted smile. Curling my fingers into fists, I steeled myself from acting on impulse. I was used to being able to touch her, look at her, and speak to her as the sole object of my attention. It physically pained me to refrain from being closer to her.

The amber light scattered across her honey-colored hair and painted her fair skin bronze. Her eyes were wide as they soaked our surroundings in.

"This place was a personal mansion for an oil magnate in the mid-twentieth century," I told her. "Once he died, his family turned it into a venue. They use it for weddings and events now."

She blew out a breath. "How nice it must be to have this much money."

I chuckled, walking towards the doorway that led to the ballroom. "I could build five of these for you."

"You're such a bragger! You have to be exaggerating anyway. No one but like Bill Gates could afford do that."

"Bill Gates." I rolled my eyes. "You be astonished of the resources at my disposal if you think that old fuck is in any way impressive."

We moved in the bustling ballroom. People milled about in elegant dresses and tuxedos, chattering and drinking and nibbling on hors d'oeurves.

"Is that the bar?" she asked. "Seems like I'm gonna need a strong one to put up with you tonight."

I glanced down in time to see Gladys tip her golden halo of curls towards the counter that ran along the entire backside of the room. Multiple lines spread out from the bar.

"You happily put up with me all the time," I said. "And you're underaged, but nice try."

She peered up at me, the dark makeup around her eyes giving her a mischievous look. Her voice was low and conspiratorial. "Oh, so I'm old enough to be fingered but not old enough for alcohol?"

I couldn't help but smirk. My angel was feeling feisty tonight.

"One glass of champagne," I said.

She grinned and turned towards the bar. As soon as we joined the queue, a slew of people approached us.

"Elijah!" cheered Kris, one of the partners of my firm.

I shook his hand and nodded at him and his wife, Sara. They were dressed sharply and as groomed as ever.

"Kris, Sara," I said. "Good to see you both."

"Lovely to see you!" Sara said with a wide smile. Her eyes were locked on my angel. "And who is this?"

"This is my intern, Gladys," I introduced them.