Her Superhero Lover

Renee looked over and smiled, shaking her head. “You don’t have to worry about that. I think The Horseman is only the second sexiest man in San Diego.”

*****

The Del Mar Hilton was huge, in a Spanish neo-colonial style that made Renee feel, for the first time, like she was out of place with Grady. Smoothing her hands over the rich blue of her cocktail dress, she felt like fidgeting. “You sure I look okay?”

“You’re the most beautiful woman here,” Grady said, tugging at the cuff of his tuxedo. “How’s the coat hang?”

“Perfect, as you’d expect,” Renee replied. “You know, you’re the first guy I’ve ever known who has his own custom tailored tuxedo. I do have to give you credit though, you shine your own shoes still.”

“I love the smell of Kiwi, what can I say? But seriously, you look amazing in those heels. I’m glad you decided to go with the five inchers instead of the shorter ones.”

“That’s just because now we can dance and kiss at the same time without either of us having a major kink in the neck,” Renee joked, taking his arm and squeezing it. “And by the way, I appreciate the way you checked out my legs helping me out of the Lotus.”

“They’re more than worth checking out. Now shhh, we have to put on our airs and be on our best behavior,” Grady said, escorting her into the hotel. The grand ballroom had been set aside for the charity event, which apparently included an auction of donated goods and even some services from the various parties in attendance. “I actually donated two things,” Grady whispered as they came in. “Voelker Consolidated is giving away a Ming vase, and I’m also donating a one hour mix session from San Diego’s hottest young DJ to any local event they want, within scheduling limits of course.”

“Oh? Didn’t know you knew Jim,” Renee deadpanned, referring to Jim “BeatzTown” Garland, one of the other popular acts in San Diego. He and Renee had once been friends before professional jealousy had caused him to get snippy with her. “He’ll appreciate the publicity.”

“Wise ass,” Grady cracked, before whispering. “Okay, show time.”

Coming into the grand ballroom, the first thing that struck Renee was how purple everything was. Not only the flowers, but the lighting and the tablecloths all were various shades of purple. The walls and ceiling had gold and red highlights, leaving her feeling like she was back in time. “I swear, if Julius Ceasar shows up talking about crossing the Rubicon, I would not be surprised in the least,” she whispered. “I feel like I should be wearing a toga.”

Grady nodded but didn’t answer, instead leading her towards a group. “Marcus, Sophia!” he greeted two of them, extending his hand. He shook hands with a black haired man and traded air kisses with a middle aged, slightly overweight woman, both of them looking like they were in their late thirties or maybe early forties. “How are you doing?”

“The golf game’s going well, but my putter seems to be wonky right now,” the man replied as he shook Grady’s hand. “How about you, Voelker?”

“Well, you know how it is, I never can get my chip game good enough to really have to worry about my putter too much. By the time I’ve hit the green I’m already over par, so it doesn’t really matter. Marcus, I’d like to introduce you to my date for this evening, Miss Renee Williams.”

“Ah, the DJ I read about in the paper,” Sophia said, extending one bejeweled hand. “Sophia Rutledge. It’s a pleasure. This golf obsessed buffoon next to me is my younger brother, Marcus.”

“Thank you, it’s nice being here,” Renee said. “I must admit though, I’m totally lost when it comes to discussion of golf or anything like that. The only golf club I’ve ever held is a putter over at a mini-putt range.”

“I wouldn’t concern yourself with it, dear. It’s a horribly expensive waste of time, in my opinion,” Sophia replied. “The only reason I let Marcus indulge in it is it lets me get on with the real family business.”

“Which is?”

Sophia looked almost insulted that Renee didn’t know who she was, but Grady saved her. “Marcus and Sophia own two hospitals in the city,” he said, taking her arm. “Apologies Sophia, but my girlfriend is one of the healthiest people I’ve ever met. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her even sneeze.”

Leading her away, he smiled sheepishly at her. “Sorry. Marcus is okay, but when Sophia is having one of her moods, she can be a bit difficult to deal with.”

“I can tell. And they are your friends?”

Grady shook his head. “Hardly. Honestly, I can’t call any of these people my friends. They’re business partners, social acquaintances, sometimes rivals, and a few I might even call my enemy, but no, nobody here is my friend.”

Renee thought about it, things falling into place. “It’s kind of like some of the people in City Heights,” she said as they made their way over to the hors d’ourves table. “When I was growing up, there were a lot of hustlers, pimps, drug dealers and gangsters. Watching them, I learned a lot about how those groups operated. Later on, I remember watching National Geographic and seeing a special on how supposedly young people join these groups in order to find friends and acceptance, a family. But what I remember was different. Everyone was distrusting of everyone else. You trusted your own group just enough to know that if another gang came by, they’d draw down on them before they drew down on you. But real friends? No. A lot of homies, bloods, cuzzes and ni**az, but no friends.”

“Sounds like the Heights and Del Mar aren’t all that different,” Grady said. “Just the weapons are a bit different, that’s all.”

The event started with an hour of hobnobbing and schmoozing. Renee quickly felt lost, as comments went over her head, perceived slights were ignored, and through it all Grady seemed to deliver as good as he got. More than once she saw the tightening of the eyes or the slight flaring of the nostrils that told her whatever it was Grady had just said, it had angered the other person, while at the same time amused the other people around them, or at least was an unreturnable comment.