Connor
It had been a week since the party, and the house still wasn't quiet.
Which was mental, because Edward's 28th birthday party was supposed to have been small. That was what Liam had promised. Liam, Edward's dad, in his very London, very rich-man voice, had said, "Just a small gathering, Connor, darling, nothing big," while swirling a glass of something that cost more than my first car.
Small ended up being two hundred guests.
Two hundred.
Vasili, had taken that "small" and turned it into host-with-the-most mode. He was dramatic in a way that made even Melanie look subtle, and he had decided that if we were doing a party, we were doing it properly.
