Chapter 75: Familiar Faces

Giovanni arrived an hour early.

This would’ve surprised absolutely no one who had known him in high school.

More surprisingly, he didn’t immediately call Alexander to announce his presence or ask if he was ready. He simply parked in the condominium’s visitor area, entered the lobby, and found an empty chair near the windows.

He had brought a book.

Naturally.

By the time Alexander finally stepped out of the elevator, Giovanni had made it halfway through a Chapter. He had almost convinced himself he hadn’t been checking the elevators every few minutes.

Almost.

The doors opened.

Giovanni looked up.

Then stopped reading.

Alexander hadn’t dressed like a CEO attending an awards ceremony, which Giovanni privately considered a relief. No three-piece suit, no vest, and certainly nothing remotely resembling the formal charcoal ensemble he’d worn on the day of the Marriage Bureau disaster.

Instead, he’d chosen dark trousers and a pale blue button-down beneath a lightweight navy jacket, the collar open just enough to keep it from looking overly corporate. He looked polished because Alexander always looked polished, but tonight the outfit had enough ease to suggest he intended to see classmates, not negotiate an acquisition.

Alexander noticed Giovanni staring.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You’ve been hanging around my father too much."

Giovanni closed his book.

"I was checking whether you were actually dressed for a reunion."

"And?"

"You passed."

Alexander looked him over in return.

Giovanni had apparently reached a similar conclusion about the dress code. He wore a crisp white shirt beneath a dark olive jacket, no tie, and black trousers that somehow made him look formal without suggesting he’d come straight from a board meeting.

They didn’t match.

Not exactly.

But standing side by side, they looked coordinated enough that Alexander immediately noticed and decided not to mention it.

Giovanni stood.

"Ready?"

"I’ve been ready."

"You came down precisely on time."

"Which means I wasn’t late."

"Technically."

Alexander narrowed his eyes.

"Are we going or are we having the reunion here?"

Giovanni smiled.

"Going."

Before Giovanni started the car, he reached into the rear seat and handed Alexander a small paper bag.

Alex looked inside.

"A sandwich?"

"Compliments of Matteo’s."

"I thought we were going to dinner."

"We are."

"Then why am I eating before dinner?"

"Because reunion dinners operate according to laws separate from normal meals."

Alexander raised an eyebrow.

Giovanni continued.

"Someone will give a speech when the food is ready. Someone else will insist on taking pictures. Then half the class will disappear to greet a teacher. By the time you eat, whatever was meant to be hot will be cold."

"Very optimistic."

"I’m prepared."

He handed Alexander a bottle of mineral water.

There was another sandwich for himself.

Alexander opened his.

"What’s in this?"

"Chicken. No peanuts."

"I wasn’t asking because of allergies."

"You should still ask."

Alexander gave him a look.

Giovanni bit into his own sandwich.

"Stay away from anything with peanuts tonight."

"Fine."

Alexander took a bite.

"And you stay away from raisins."

Giovanni looked offended.

"I wasn’t planning to eat raisins."

"I’m reminding you."

"Raisins aren’t dangerous."

"Debatable."

Giovanni started the car.

Alexander immediately added, "And since you refused to bring a driver, you aren’t drinking."

"I don’t drink much anyway."

"Not much isn’t none."

"Fine. No alcohol."

"Or punch."

Giovanni looked over.

"Why punch?"

"Because reunion punch always contains something nobody admits putting in it."

"Then coffee."

"Will they have coffee?"

"If they don’t, I’ll survive."

Alexander glanced toward his phone.

"I’d feel more confident if I asked Elias to follow us."

Giovanni stared.

"We’re going to a school reunion."

"And you’re driving."

"I drove here."

"That doesn’t prove you’ll be fit to drive later."

"I just told you I won’t drink."

Alexander considered him.

Giovanni sighed.

"No alcohol. No mysterious punch. I’ll drink coffee, water, or whatever fluorescent juice they serve."

"People will think you’re sick."

"Then they can think I’m sick."

"Or taking medication."

"Who cares what they think?"

Alexander looked at him.

That answer, more than the promise, settled it.

"Fine."

"No, Elias?"

"No, Elias."

Giovanni smiled faintly and pulled away from the curb.

Most of their classmates had arrived early.

Alexander and Giovanni arrived precisely on time.

Dominic arrived an hour late.

Apparently, some habits did survive adulthood.

The old high school had changed less than either Alexander expected.

New buildings stood toward the rear of the campus, the main walkways were better lit, and the landscaping had matured enough that trees they’d once thought large now looked enormous.

But the auditorium still stood.

So did the courtyard.

The old basketball court had been renovated and partly enclosed, which made it perfect for the reunion. Strings of warm lights crossed the ceiling, old class photographs lined the walls, and tables were arranged around a central open space that could later serve as a dance floor.

At the registration table, every attendee received a name tag.

Alexander looked down at his.

ALEXANDER VANCE

Below it, someone had thoughtfully printed:

Still answers to Alex.

He stared.

Elena Marquez appeared beside him.

"You’re welcome."

"You did this?"

"The committee did."

She handed Giovanni his.

GIOVANNI MERCER

Still answers to Gio.

Giovanni smiled.

"Accurate."

Alexander pointed at Elena.

"You still owe me an umbrella."

She froze.

"What?"

"Blue umbrella."

"That was yours?"

"You borrowed it."

"I thought it was Patrick’s."

A familiar voice came from behind them.

"I’ve never owned a blue umbrella."

Patrick Lim appeared holding two welcome drinks.

Alexander stared at him.

Patrick stared back.

Then held out one of the drinks.

"Want one?"

Giovanni started laughing.

Some things really didn’t change.

Within minutes, familiar faces seemed to appear from every direction.

Samuel Reyes had become a lawyer and immediately denied ever asking Giovanni for help with homework.

"I asked for academic collaboration."

"You copied number seven."

"I was collaborating."

Claire Villanueva still played piano, though now largely for herself rather than audiences. Miguel Santos had given up guitar professionally but apparently still kept three at home.

Adrian Castillo, former prom king and once the most shameless campaigner in school history, had become a dentist.

Alexander stared at him.

"You campaigned for prom king harder than most politicians."

Adrian smiled, showing off his new set of veneers.

"And won."

"You gave away candy."

"Effective platform."

Elena appeared beside them.

"He also promised everyone longer lunch breaks."

"I had no authority to provide them."

"Which sounds even more political."

The laughter came easily.

Too easily, perhaps.

Within half an hour, Alexander realized he’d gone several minutes without thinking about whether anyone was watching him and Giovanni together.

That was probably because nobody appeared particularly interested in making the evening uncomfortable.

People had careers.

Children.

Ex-spouses.

New spouses.

Aging parents.

Health complaints they were somehow already old enough to have.

The scandal surrounding Alexander and Dominic had been enormous to outsiders.

To people who’d once watched all three boys fail a chemistry experiment together, it was apparently only one thing among many that had happened since graduation.

No one asked.

Alexander noticed.

He appreciated it more than he could say.

Dominic arrived while everyone was laughing.

He’d clearly dressed for an entrance.

His black suit was perfectly tailored but softened by the absence of a tie, the shirt beneath it a muted burgundy that stood out just enough under the lights. His hair was styled with meticulous care, and for anyone who didn’t know him, Dominic Sebastian would’ve looked effortlessly elegant.

Unfortunately, everyone who did know him also knew Dominic rarely did anything effortlessly.

He paused near the entrance.

No one noticed.

Beatrice was already calling everyone toward the front. Patrick laughed loudly enough to be heard over the music, Elena threatened someone over an old photograph, and Alexander and Giovanni stood with several classmates who apparently had far more interesting things to discuss than whoever had just walked through the door.

For a fraction of a second, Dominic’s carefully composed expression slipped.

Then the smile returned.

He straightened his jacket and stepped farther inside.

Apparently, if he wanted anyone’s attention tonight, he’d have to earn it.