Page 117 of Voyeur

“Yes, it is. We worked with an amazing caterer this year, and–”

“You’ll have to excuse me now, Miss Wrenley,” he said. “I seem to be out of my bourbon.” He pointed to his glass, which only held ice.

“I can get you a fresh drink,” Silver offered. “Which bourbon?”

“Oh, I can–”

“You know, my favorite way to drink bourbon is straight up, with a cigar in my hand,” Silver interrupted, taking a chance.

“It is, is it?” He sounded surprised.

“Yes. I don’t spend much on alcohol, usually. Tequila is tequila, you know, but bourbon is–”

“Oh, the type of bourbon is important,” he said. “I ordered this straight, and he put it over ice. I let him have it, but I drank it anyway. You don’t waste good bourbon like this.”

“My thoughts exactly. Victor, have you heard that Honor’s work alone at the charity has given more than a thousand caregivers much-needed assistance this year? Which, in turn, has given assistance to those suffering from the disease as well?”

“Oh, it’s not–” Honor started.

“I know they’re very successful. It’s why we’re all here.”

“Well, I think you know that we’re all here to make more money. Got to spend it to make it, right?” Silver suggested before taking a long sip of her champagne to gauge his reaction. “Anyway, you know all that; you’re a businessman. But I wonder if you know that the charity isn’t merely supporting the caregivers, though that is a noble cause. They support the others suffering as well. It’s about helping everyone involved with additional support, whether that be financially or otherwise.”

“I… had that idea, yes.”

“I think it’s easy for people like you and me, you know? When you come from money, it’s often difficult to understand why people might struggle financially when they get sick. They have insurance, right?” Silver smiled at him.

“Yes, they do,” he said, sounding interested.

“But insurance doesn’t cover everything, and not everyone can afford to even have it. It’s a vicious cycle, honestly. Honor helped me understand that.” Silver nodded toward her girlfriend. “It can be a challenge for people to care for their sick loved one, hold down a job, take care of kids or other things around the house, pay the bills, and everything else we all have to do. I won’t take anything away from cancer non-profits, but there are several of them in this city. There’s only one here that’s designed to support the whole family and extended network.”

“Well, I suppose you’re right,” he replied. “Miss Kincade, follow me to the bar?”

“I’m sure Honor would love to follow you to the bar. I’m afraid, I must excuse myself for a few minutes.” She leaned over and took in Honor’s dumbfounded and, somehow, maybe angry expression. She kissed her on the cheek, hoping she hadn’t overstepped, and said, “I’ll find you later.”

“Okay,” Honor replied.

???

Silver removed her jacket and tossed it on Honor’s sofa. Then, she kicked off her shoes, and her dress socks were removed after that. Honor had disappeared into the bedroom already. They hadn’t talked much on the way home, and Honor had been busy with Victor Andrews for much of the night, so Silver had stayed out of her way. They’d eaten dinner together during that part of the evening, but after that, Honor had gone back to Victor to iron out the details of his donation. Silver had headed to the bar for another drink and had watched Honor from afar, loving her more and more for how she did all of this for other people.

“Can we just go to sleep? I know I told you I’d make it up to you, but I’m too tired, Silver.” Honor returned to the living room already dressed in her cute pajamas.

Silver had removed her cufflinks and was unbuttoning her shirt.

“Yeah, okay. Honor, are you mad or something?”

Honor sighed and replied, “I’m tired, Silver. Let’s just get some sleep.”

“I know your tired look. This isn’t just that.” Silver pulled off her shirt and let it fall on the sofa.

“Babe, come on.”

Silver undid her pants, set them on top of the shirt to deal with tomorrow, and followed Honor as she walked back into her bedroom.

“Come on, what? Honor, just tell me. Is it the phone thing? I was bored; sorry.”

“What? No, it’s not the phone thing.”