Chapter 22

The Violet Mansion was filled with a variety of white-collar and bearish queers who were horny, thirsty for draft beer, and hungry for half-off appetizers. A block of Taylor Swift songs blared in the place, which most of the patrons sang to, including queer bankers, police officers, mechanics, lawyers, and professors. The floor was black marble, the walls were silver and white stainless steel, and the ceiling was covered in faux diamonds.

Jax sat at the W-shaped bar and requested two shots of Jim Beam, which he then chased with an imported bear from Brussels. As he tried to enjoy his beer, his cellphone vibrated in one of his pockets.

“Fuck,” he whispered at the bar, reading Will’s number and name on the phone’s screen.

Of course, he couldn’t take the call because of all the noise inside the bar, which included Taylor singing “All Too Well” and gay chatter from the bar’s Happy Hour visitors. Instead, he slipped the phone back into his khakis, took a sip of his beer, and relaxed.