Chapter 7
7
Samantha
The car my parents had sent to bring me to the event pulled up a curved driveway, stopping in front of a massive seaside estate. When I stepped out of the vehicle after taking the gloved hand offered in assistance, I could hear waves crashing in the background. The air tingled with the fresh scent of sea salt and a light breeze tousled my hair.
The oceanic atmosphere combined with the moon’s rising was magical and I felt my spirit rising with a sense of anticipation. Maybe the night wouldn’t drag on interminably, maybe I’d even enjoy myself and not mind the content front I was doomed to always display in front of others.
The soft crunch of tires against the gravel sounded behind me as I made my way up the stairs, passing the uniformed staff and security. I entered a foyer adorned with statues resembling gargoyles and other mythological creatures. Taking a moment to appreciate the fine artwork, I lingered before raising my eyes. I knew no one in sight, and this was my first larger society outing in Boston, having only attended small dinners previously. I’d put it off as long as I could before my parents had become insistent. Squaring my shoulders, I followed the direction the small crowd appeared to be headed in and entered a vast ballroom.
It was gorgeous. High, vaulted ceilings, massive, curtained windows with cushioned bench seats, candelabras flickering against the wall, and chandeliers with dangling crystals to refract the light set the mood. A fairytale setting complete with a small, live orchestra.
While I stood there gawking at the finery, my mother approached, air kissed my cheek, and let me know how beautiful I was. She took my arm and led me to my father, who greeted me, and then introduced me to several individuals. They were older, likely in their sixties, and possessed an air of entitlement, looking down their noses after judging those who dared to wander too close to our small group.
“Must be tough, doing all that on your own,” a graying senator with a large belly straining against his suit jacket’s buttons remarked. I gave him a small smile and noted his lack of sincere interest. His eyes were scanning the room, searching for more stimulating conversation. My parents must’ve filled him in on my business venture moments before I’d arrived.
Sending my father a weak but polite smile, I let my mother pull me to the side. “Samantha, there are many eligible bachelors here,” she stage-whispered in my ear. “You’re thirty years old.”
I winced. She wasn’t trying to set me up with a man older than my father, was she? “Mom, please, not tonight.”
She accepted two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter and handed me one. “Timothy is here somewhere, as well. He won’t make a scene, but I thought you should know. You need to make friends; it's been months now.” I’d been busy with my shop, and she knew it.
A woman chose just that moment to be within my mom’s line of sight. “Sara, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Samantha.” My mother had spotted her and waved her over. “I’ll let you two get acquainted. Sara, so good to see you. You look well.”
“Thank you, Grace,” Sara gave my mom a small smile, “you too.” Mom beamed at her and took her leave.
“Hi,” I greeted the woman in front of me, who did not look particularly well. Her skin had a grayish tinge and her eyes appeared too big for her head. She almost looked like a teenager although I could tell she was near my age.
“Hi,” she said in return. “First time here?”
I nodded. “I’ve been avoiding these events for a while. I had my fill back home, I suppose.” My parents had kept tabs on me from across the country, making sure I fulfilled my duty of attending society events to keep up appearances. .
She giggled. “I avoid them too. Couldn’t worm my way out of this one though.” She rolled her eyes while I examined her. She wore a sleeveless black cocktail dress with a gauzy scarf over her shoulders. The crook of her arms were scarred and scratched; her thin frame covered with goose bumps. She noticed my perusal and adjusted her shoulder covering accordingly.
Clearing my throat and sending her an encouraging smile, I glanced up. “You want to tell me who’s who around here?”
Her face brightened. “Sure. Over there,” she nodded toward a corner, “that’s the old money. They don’t acknowledge me or my friends.”
“How nice of them,” I remarked, earning a grin. “What about that group?” I tilted my head toward a small knot of men and some women who appeared to be heading outdoors. Timothy was amongst them.
Sara raised her eyebrows. “Social climbers, lawyers, some doctors. They’re all right, I guess. The politicians are up front by the music. I guess your family already knows them. The people by the entry, they just show up whenever. They summer out here or on the islands. I think there’s a lot of tech people. I don’t know all of them. My dad is one of the doctors here in Boston; he’s a heart surgeon.” I knew which islands she meant—Nantucket, Martha’s Vineyard, and possibly even Block Island.
Looking around the room, my eyes snagged on a small group of men. They were all tall, well-built, every one of them clad in fine-cut black suits. I noted the rings and tattoos on a hand gripping a crystal glass, his other hand moving as if to punctuate whatever he was saying. Another man, his hair pulled back in a ponytail, had ink traveling up his neck. He was tugging on his cufflinks.
“What about those guys?” I couldn’t look away.
“Oh them? I know them. I’m trying to avoid one of them.”
I looked at her quickly. “Why? Who are they?”
“One of their group owns a huge company, but I don’t see him, no one ever does. They all work together. They own a lot of things.” She wrung her hands.
“But why are you avoiding them?”
She shrugged. “I don’t want to talk about it. They’re, well, they’re different.”
“Different?” I glanced back at the gathering in time to catch one’s eye. The scar down the side of his face startled me, and I looked away. Movement near the doorway snagged my gaze but I couldn’t see anything, and I looked back at Sara.
“I don’t know how to describe it. It’s not something I really care to talk about.” She squirmed and sighed. “They just noticed you, so they must’ve seen me. I gotta go. Nice to meet you.”
Sara darted away, leaving me bereft. It was all I could do not to look over my shoulder as I made my way back to my parents thinking about the strange conversation I’d just had. My new friend had seemed spooked and nervous. The group appeared harmless to me, if not extraordinarily attractive and well-dressed and with a bit more ink than what was considered acceptable. I let out a breath. I’d navigate Boston society on my own; it’d just take longer than I’d like.
I’d almost reached my parents when I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around to face a tall blond. “Let me introduce myself, I’m Matthew.”
“Samantha,” I answered, staring into his light blue eyes. His outstretched hand was waiting for me to clasp it, so I did.
“Welcome,” he said, releasing my palm. “Care to dance?”
His hair was shaved close on the sides, the almost white length on top slicked back. I debated agreeing to his company until I realized it would please my parents. If I accompanied a man at least once, I’d be off the hook for the rest of the night. “Sure,” I said, smiling politely.
He led me, a hand against my lower back, to the center of the dance floor where a few other couples were already entwined. Matthew kept just enough space between us while I was in his grasp to allow me to feel comfortable. He asked me a few questions about where I was from and what I did for a living, and told me he was into collecting property, including real estate. I wondered what property there was to collect outside of homes and businesses but didn’t ask. The lights flickered and dimmed overhead, midway through the dance and a few startled gasps resounded throughout the room. They flicked back on, and my dance partner chuckled. “I should let you go, Samantha. It was nice to meet you.”
I said goodbye and glanced at my mother. She sent me an approving smile and turned back to the group she was mingling with. Instead of heading toward her, I made my way to the outdoor patio.
Crossing the space, I navigated my way through the cushioned couches and lit fire pits. The space was heated and cozy, although expansive, lining nearly the length of the building. Placing my hands on the stone railing at the far end, I looked out over the water. The full moon was reflected along the rolling surface and the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore provided background noise over the chatter that surrounded me.
“This is where she killed herself.” I turned and Sara joined me, leaning her forearms against the white marble.
“Who?” I asked.
Sara pointed to a rock border in the distance. “A girl, I sorta met her a couple times at a casino. Kinda met her, I don’t think she liked me. They say she threw herself off the edge over there. They never found her body.”
“Well, that’s creepy.”
“I think she was pushed,” Sara remarked, raising an eyebrow.
“You think she was murdered? Why are you telling me this?”
Sara shrugged. “Just filling you in. It's one of those unspoken things with the elite.” She continued, “Kiara was killed, I swear. How do you think that guy got that scar on his face?”
“He killed her?” The scar faced man didn’t look like a murderer, but many killers never did. I would avoid that group anyway; they sounded like too much of a headache. “Are you accusing someone of homicide?”
The woman who’d joined me seemed to want to be my friend, but the gossip turned me off. She was pretty, well-dressed, and came across as friendly. I didn’t understand why she’d want to begin a friendship with such a tale.
Sara never answered me. Her eyes widened as she peered over my shoulder. She clutched her purse and rushed away, leaving me by the railing. I grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and went back inside, disturbed by the strange conversation.