Chapter 6 #2
To sum it up in one sentence. My history with Reed Prescott was painful and messy, and it needed to stay as part of my past. For both our sakes.
After his behavior at the club, I had no doubts that Jasper would still go after Reed somehow. And I couldn’t let that happen, not to someone I still cared so much about.
Speaking of the slut that was Tate fucking Parker.
I nodded in acknowledgement of Mrs. Parker’s fingertipped wave.
She looked more like she was going to prom than a charity event.
Tate wasn’t with them as she was still in France.
I dragged my gaze from Mr. Parker. I was surprised they still attended charity events, as they rarely put their hands in their pockets.
As Daddy powered through the rest of his speech, I slid the list of items that would open for bids after dinner towards me.
“Anything you want me to bid on for you?” Jasper questioned from my side, like I couldn’t do that myself, the chauvinistic pig.
That comment had nothing to do with being generous; it was all about control.
My fiancé's expression was too smug for my liking that evening.
He liked to show me off like a trophy. The girl I used to be would have loved that. I emphasize the ‘used’ to be.
Pushing the list back into the center of the table, I shook my head and lifted my eyes off where my name was printed.
I was listed under Lot Ten, or at least, "A Date with the Chair of the Trust’s Daughter," was. I had volunteered for the last three years for a bit of fun, and Jasper had been forced to go along with it. It’s not like he had anything to worry about.
When I’d first offered time with myself for money, I had been the Mayor of Newport’s daughter, but of course, Daddy had stepped down when he went back into business with Jasper and his father, Theodore.
The date was always in a public place, and the press were usually involved.
It helped to raise the Charities’ profile.
Our engagement was announced on the evening of my twenty-first birthday as planned, and so everyone in Newport knew about it.
It was just a charity publicity stunt, and that was it.
Last year, Mr. Alfred Cumberworth had won me for nine thousand dollars, and I had earned every fucking penny.
He was a retired accountant, overweight and balding, and around the same age as my father.
He also had rank breath and had gotten handsy as the night dragged on.
I hadn’t been amused and ended the date by stomping on his foot.
I remember Jasper had found it funny, and of course, he would; the Cumberworths of this world posed no threat to him and his plans.
I imagined that if it had been a young guy of a similar age to me, he would have been laughing on the other side of his face.
And yes, my fiancé had two of them. Didn’t all would-be politicians/businessmen?
“I must say, I’m not happy about Lot Six. Where the hell did that come from? Prescott showed little interest in tonight’s event when your father tried to get him to come.” My ears pricked up. What was he harking about? Grimacing, I placed a manicured finger on the list and drew it back.
Spying Lot Six, I read the small print and my pulse twitched.
It was an original leather football autographed by the ex-Giants star quarterback, number forty-seven, PRESCOTT; donated by the NFL shop. Well, I’ll be damned. Maybe the shop had donated it, and it had nothing to do with Reed?
Warmth pooled in my stomach, and the hairs on my neck stood on end. That was odd. I cut a look around the room as Daddy rattled on, and there he was, on a table at the back of the hall, right next to the door.
Reed Prescott.
As if reading my mind, my father’s voice suddenly changed tone.
“And I must say we are truly honored tonight, especially when he didn’t think he’d be able to make it.
Not only do we have a member of the school’s alumni back with us, but a star on the football field.
Ladies and gentlemen, NFL legend, Mr. Reed Prescott, the newly signed quarterback for the Rhode Island Patriots. Welcome home, Reed.”
A huge round of applause erupted around the room as Jasper growled, “What the hell?”
The neckline of my dress suddenly felt tight as I studied the room and watched Reed push to his feet, his expression suggesting that he felt humbled by my father’s words. He nodded and in turn clapped the guests in the room, who all beamed back at him; crowd-pleasing kiss-ass.
I scowled as he lowered himself back into his seat. He was sandwiched between a tall blonde woman and my brother, Phoenix.
Nix!?
That fucking traitor. Not once had he mentioned that Reed would be there that night.
I dug my nails into my palms as my rat of a brother saw me looking over and gave me a hesitant little wave.
Yes, I had told him to mind his own business and keep out of the shit between Reed and me. But I didn’t mean it!
I turned away again as Phoenix then raised his champagne glass to salute me. My chest tightened, and the room suddenly seemed so much smaller.
I jumped slightly as Jasper’s fingers found mine on the table.
He had hair on the back of his hands, and I’d always found it revolting.
Thankfully, that was the only area of my body he touched frequently.
We hadn’t slept together and probably never would: unless it was one of those wedding-night-only things.
Nice and old-fashioned. It wasn’t something I was looking forward to.
I had my vibrator; I didn’t need a man. Yeah, tell your pussy that when it clenches, every time you see Reed fucking Prescott.
“Did you know he’d be here?” Jasper hissed gruffly in my ear.
I tried to pull my hand away, but his grip tightened. “Who?” I husked.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know who I mean, Storm. That will only make me more suspicious.”
I gave in with a huff. “No, OK? I’m as surprised as you are.”
The lady across the table shushed us, and Jasper released my fingers, mouthing an apology and then shooting her one of his winning smiles. He could be charming when he was pushed into a corner.
As Daddy was in the process of finishing off his speech, I slid my hands from the table and onto my lap.
I suddenly felt hot and breathless. The gray satin dress I wore left little to the imagination, and if anything, I should have been cold.
It had a high neckline but was backless.
It pinched in at my waist and breasts, and the skirt section fell to the floor, the long slit showing my entire leg from ankle to thigh.
Jasper didn’t like it. Too revealing, he’d said. That’s why I wore it.
As I glanced back towards Reed’s table, his party of people all looked thoroughly entertained, although not by my father. They were talking and laughing, but it wasn’t loud enough to be rude.
I wondered who the girl was. I was certain I’d seen her in one of the catalogues I had back home. She was probably a fashion model or something. Typical.
Reed and Phoenix were sitting at the ‘fun’ table, and I was stuck with Jasper and the cast from Cocoon.
My mood dipped. There was a serious excitement drought in my life, and I knew I needed to do something about that before I exploded.
I thought about Lot Five, which I had spied earlier.
It was a purple sports motorcycle, a special, lightweight bike for a lady.
I felt an urge to bid on it, do something reckless.
Both Jasper and my father would totally disagree with me riding a bike.
Not ladylike enough. I couldn’t see myself riding one either; I just wanted to prove a point.
Feel alive again. My mom always said I could do anything I put my mind to.
At least she did when she’d been sober, before the news of ‘Phoenix’ had come along.
Maybe riding a bike was one of those things I could put my mind to?
I thought back to the sexy asshole biker who had given me the death stare that day outside the fire station.
Maybe that was a sign? I could do badass too, couldn’t I?
“You’re to stay away from him, Stormy. Understand?” Jasper’s voice said at the cusp of my ear. I remembered what Reed had said to Jasper. ‘You already have something else of mine.’
Smoothing my hands over the silk of my dress as it kissed my thighs, I put on my practiced smile and replied. “Whatever you say, darling.”
“Good girl.” How I hated it when he praised me in such a way.
After Daddy’s speech was finally over, he made his way to the head table amongst another burst of applause. The caterers then started serving the first course. It was like a military operation as they filed into the room like ants.
“I must say, your fiancé is a good sport, dear. Allowing you to put yourself up for auction again this year.”
Mrs. Peters wasn’t being rude on purpose, but her words still made me feel like a hooker. Her dirty old letch of a husband, Mr. Peters, was looking at me as if I were one, which of course didn’t help.
Her use of the word allowing also pissed me off, as if I had to get permission from Jasper.
“We have a good understanding, Silvia,” Jasper said as he popped a piece of bread roll in his mouth. “It’s a bit of fun and for a good cause.” I found it amusing that they were on a first-name basis.
“Indeed. You must be pleased to have a fiancé that is so trusting,” Silvia added. I almost choked on my soup, and Jasper handed me a flute of champagne. To those keen eyes watching, he was being the gentleman, helping his lady to clear her throat, but I knew exactly what was behind that gesture.
Don’t let anyone see that this thing between us isn’t real.