Burning Honey Ch. 01

Author's note:

Long time reader, first time posting. This is really my first whack at any kind of romance. Hopefully it's a decent start. If there's interest, I'll continue - so please do give me any feedback you may have!




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"Can I get another, please?"

The bartender shot Aspen a glance from the corner of his eye. Sure, he'd been sitting at the bar for less than an hour and had just downed his third gin and tonic, but Aspen was fine, really. It was open bar at this deathly-dull gala - some charity thing thrown by Ruby's company - and its only redeeming quality was the top-shelf liquor flowing freely.

The bartender passed the drink over silently, clearly deciding it wasn't worth the trouble to say anything. Aspen didn't really blame him; he stood out like a sore thumb in his rented, almost-fitting rental tux among the sea of designerwear. He must have realized he wouldn't be getting a hundred-dollar tip from Aspen. He took the drink without comment and glanced at his ancient watch. One hour down. He sighed.

"Not enjoying the party?"

The voice came from directly beside him and Aspen would have jumped, had the gin not made him a little slow to react. He swiveled his stool around to come face to face with - it might have been the booze talking, but Aspen couldn't think of any other way to describe him - a man made of gold.

Tall and broad, the man seemed to take up Aspen's entire field of vision. He had that kind of year-round tan that Aspen felt sure came from weekending in places like St. Kitts or Nevis. His hair was a dark honey blonde, threaded throughout with streaks of sunlight - it was too long, Aspen thought, the tips curling at his collar, to exactly blend into the well-starched crowd of businessmen milling about. No, this man wouldn't exactly blend in anywhere. He was smiling at Aspen expectantly and of course his teeth were perfectly straight, though not, Aspen noted, the artificial white of toothpaste commercials. His eyes, warm and green-yellow, were crinkled by the grin, the slight laugh lines framing them suggesting that this was a common expression. He looked...well, he looked inviting. He must be some sort of schmoozing guru, Aspen decided, the guy they called in to broker business mergers or whatever men in suits did these days. He seemed persuasive somehow, although Aspen really couldn't say how he had come to that conclusion, as the man had barely spoken.

"Oh - it's fine- I'm just -" Aspen managed out before he was cut off by a rich chuckle. He stared just a little as the man made a flick of a gesture to the barman and was immediately presented with a glass of amber liquid and an obsequious sort of half bow. Looking at the fine cut of the man's suit - the perfect length sleeve just skimming over admittedly impressive biceps, the silk shirt with its topmost button undone underneath an ever so slightly loosened shiny gold bowtie - yeah, he was the type to leave a hundred dollar tip. Aspen didn't blame the barman for looking like he was on the verge of abeyance.

"No need to play nice," the man winked at Aspen before knocking back the drink without hesitation. "Painfully dull, isn't it? Not even any interesting people watching to be done, and most of 'em are as boring as they look," he grinned at Aspen conspiratorially. Aspen felt himself smiling back.

"It's not that bad," Aspen tried halfheartedly. "Well, okay, it is, but I don't know anyone here. At least there's booze." He raised his glass slightly to the man, who did the same with his freshly refilled tumbler.

"So," the man said, leaning in. "Does that mean you're crashing? taksim escort Because I could think of much better parties to crash than this one."

"No, no," Aspen hastened to correct him. For some reason his cheeks had warmed at the man's closeness. "I do know one person here - I came with my girlfriend actually, Ruby Santiago, she's just over-" Aspen made a gesture to the spot where Ruby had been deep in conversation with a few silver-haired gentleman, but she was gone. Probably was off having them sign an iron-clad contract selling their livelihoods away, knowing Ruby. "Well, she was over there," he finished.

"Well," the man said. He hadn't moved his gaze from his face, even while Aspen had been gesturing towards across the room. "She seems to have left you to the wolves, hasn't she?"

Aspen winced. "She does that sometimes," he admitted. "Oh - not that you're bad company, in fact you're rather..." He trailed off, not knowing what had gotten into him. Sure, he was no social butterfly, but why did he suddenly sound like a moron even to his own ears?

The man leaned further in and Aspen found he couldn't look away from the green-gold of his eyes. They felt scorching as they returned his gaze.

"You're rather..., yourself," He said lowly.

Just then an older man, portly and balding, approached them.

"Mr. Marsters, I thought you should know Mr. Ahern has just arrived," the man said, not sparing a glance at Aspen. It was strange to see this middle aged man treat the younger one - he couldn't be out of his early thirties - with such deference.

"Thank you, Mathison, I'll be there in a moment," he said, though he made no move to get up. He was still looking at Aspen.

The man he called Mathison hovered uncomfortably. "With all due respect, sir, I told Mr. Ahern--"

"Alright, I'm coming. No need to get your panties in a twist." The man stood. He nodded to Aspen and a slow grin grew on his face. Aspen felt something like nerves flutter up within him. "Nice talking to you..." The man said, offering him a hand. Aspen reached out and grasped it from his sitting position. "Aspen," he said. "Aspen Altier."

The man give his hand a gentle squeeze. "Aspen," he repeated, and then he loosened his grip, and strode away, Mathison close on his heels. It wasn't until they were halfway across the massive ballroom that Aspen realized the other man hadn't shared his own name.

~~~

An hour and a half later, Aspen was feeling just fine. Three more drinks had helped plenty with that. He was making his way determinedly towards the cab stand out front and, he thought, doing a fair job of it - he wasn't stumbling, not quite, although he didn't remember the pavement outside being so uncooperative when he was entering.

Ruby had sent him home. She'd dutifully collected him from the bar and made the rounds introducing him to people who all looked vaguely the same to Aspen's admittedly slightly unfocused gaze: men in luxury suits, women in stiff dresses. They all shook his hand and inquired politely as to Aspen's work - "He's a journalist," Ruby would answer crisply for him. "He covers the environment in big business - you know, greening initiatives and so on." That wasn't quite right, but they'd nod knowledgably and the topic would move right on to "company matters." Aspen hardly had to say a word other than to the bartender.

Finally, Ruby had taken pity on him. She drew him aside, her brown eyes gleaming with excitement. "Darling, go home, would you? I'm this close" she put her thumb and first finger together so they almost touched - "to getting Bernie to agree to try çapa escort out my restructure plan for R