six
Vivienne Delacroix
I’m relieved when dinner is over and dancing recommences. Halfway through, my feet are dead tired, and I just want to sit down. But that’s not how we do things. I have to dance with every last founding son of appropriate age before I can be done for the night. I have to smile and make small talk and pretend I don’t notice that Chaz, who doesn’t have the same pressures, spends the whole evening dancing with or sitting with Krissy.
It’s silly of me to resent that. He can’t help that he’s not a founding son. He doesn’t know anyone but Krissy, and he’s too socially awkward to mingle and make new friends. There are maybe five or six other Faulkner High families in attendance, but their kids aren’t any friendlier to Chaz than the Willow Heights kids, who make up the majority of high schoolers in attendance.
I have to take a break between the last few dances to let my blistered feet rest. I wore dancing shoes, and after a lifetime of attending these things, I’m an equal dance partner to just about anyone on the floor, but I’m not used to dancing for hours on end.
While I’m resting my feet before the last song, Chaz finally comes over and squeezes into the chair beside me at one of the tiny round tables at the edge of the dance floor. “Hey,” he says. “Are we ever going to talk? Or are you going to keep ignoring me all night?”
“Both,” I say. “This isn’t the place to have this conversation, Chaz.”
“What conversation?” he asks, drawing back with wide eyes. “Are you breaking up with me?”
“No,” I say with a sigh. “I just don’t want to fight in public, especially at a party with my family and all the families they want to impress in attendance, okay? It’s… Tacky.”
“I’m tacky?” Chaz demands, staring at me like he doesn’t know me.
“Not you,” I assure him, reaching for his hand.
He draws away. “Is that what this is really about? You think you’re too good for me because my family isn’t in the same tax bracket as yours? Or because we don’t have six generations of millionaires?”
“Chaz,” I hiss, lowering my voice. “Stop it.”
“I don’t think I will,” he says, stiffening and sitting up straight.
“It’s not about my family or yours,” I assure him. “It’s about the fact that I told you it makes me uncomfortable how close you are with Krissy, and instead of respecting our relationship and making me comfortable, you spent the night with her.”
“I didn’t spend the night with her,” he says, rolling his eyes. “She spent the night at my house, and I told you, nothing happened.”
“And that’s all I ever get,” I say. “Words.”
We stare at each other for a minute. “You get my loyalty,” Chaz says after a pause. “I’ve never cheated. What do you want me to do to prove it? Ditch my best friend for my girlfriend?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I would never ask for that. I just want you to have enough respect for my feelings about it to know that spending the night—or having her spend the night—wouldn’t be cool with me.”
“Which is why I didn’t tell you,” he says, throwing his hands up.
I stare at him for a second, watching the realization dawning in his eyes. He tries to backtrack, seizing my hand and apologizing, but I pull away. “No,” I say firmly. “If the only way you know to avoid hurting me is to lie, then you’re not trying to avoid hurting me at all. You’re trying to avoid being caught.”
Chaz protests, but I can’t stay another moment. I know I’ll cry if I do, and I’m not going to cry in the middle of the Founders Ball and become the object of anyone’s pity, or worse, the subject of gossip for the Garden Club’s next meeting. I jump to my feet, grab the silky skirt of my floor length gown and hike it up far enough for me to walk away as quickly as I can in my heels. I hear Chaz calling after me, but that only makes me hurry out of the ballroom faster. I punch the button to the elevator, glancing back over my shoulder to make sure he’s not following me. When I see the empty hallway, I can’t stop the tears.
He didn’t follow me.
Even though I didn’t want him to, I expected it. As silly as it is, I’m crushed that he didn’t come after me.
I step into the elevator and try to hold myself together. The floors tick by with agonizing slowness before the car finally comes to a stop. The doors whisk open, and I step out, only to see Jacob Darling kissing his brother’s girlfriend up against the wall in the hallway. I rush out and pass them, trying to find a quiet place before the tears come.
The dining room sits darkened, the doors open and the tables empty and bare. Relieved to find an empty room and some privacy, I step inside and let out a breath. The moment I do, the tears overflow down my cheeks. I feel like such a fool for crying, for arguing with Chaz in the middle of a formal event, even for believing he’d never hurt me.
The next minute, I hear giggling and a low murmur as the couple from the hall has the same idea I did. I know I won’t have time to fix my makeup and get myself together in time, so I grab my skirt up and hurry across the room, barely noticing my sore feet as I rush for a side exit. I shove it open and burst out, ready to be alone in the blustery fall night.
I freeze solid as an ice sculpture the moment I step outside.
A dozen staff members stand around smoking cigarettes, their shirts unbuttoned and untucked, their gloves off, their manner casual. All conversation and laughter ceases as they turn to stare at me with my red formal gown drawn up, tears streaking my cheeks.
“Uh, ma’am,” says one of the younger servers. He straightens from where he’s leaning on the wall and gives a slight bow, like we’re still in the dining room. “Can I get you anything?”
“Nah, don’t jump up for her,” Sebastian says, slouching against the railing. “We’re off duty, boys. But maybe we can bottle up some of those rich girl tears, so the next time we spill our champagne, we can dump those out too.”
A couple of the guys laugh, and I burn with humiliation. Sebastian can turn on the charm for my grandmother all he wants, but I know what he’s about. I go to school with him every day. I’ve watched him torment my boyfriend, my friends, and everyone who’s beneath him on the social ladder. He’s mean.
“You okay?” asks a petite girl with small but enviable curves who’s standing so close to Sebastian that she’s practically in his arms when he turns toward me.
“I’m fine,” I mumble, lowering my head and swiping at my face, hating that they’re all staring. Having all these strangers in work uniforms pitying me is worse than having the people upstairs in their designer dresses staring.
“Come on, you can tell us,” Sebastian taunts, flicking his cigarette through the railing. “Did you break a nail? Spill some Cristal on your dancing shoes?”
I hate how he makes me feel small, how his words cut through me the way most people can’t. Sebastian brings out every insecurity and gives me new ones I didn’t even know I had. And more than that, I never know when he’s going to play nice and make me think his opinion is worth caring about, and when he’s going to let his true colors show.
I turn away and take a deep breath, running my fingers under my eyes to wipe away any tears and makeup left. A couple girls are sitting on the curb next to an electrical box, where two more guys sit having a smoke. Beside them, a couple of dumpsters sit beyond an elevated door where trucks must back up to unload directly. Sebastian and the tiny girl stand on a concrete ramp with a railing to the left of the door, and a few others stand along the ramp and the area around it. I take it all in while I collect my battered emotions.
“Actually, I got in a fight with Chaz,” I say, turning to Sebastian and lifting my chin, refusing to let him belittle me. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
He lets out a snort of breath and shakes his head. “Why are you with that little dickweed anyway? Oh, I remember. Because he’s from a good family.”
He laughs bitterly, glancing at the others, who all snicker like they’re in on some inside joke.
“I’m not a snob,” I say, squaring my bare shoulders.
“Right,” Sebastian says. “That’s why you’re out here hanging out with the help.”
More laughter follows his statement.
I glance around, a knot forming in my throat before I meet his eyes again. “I don’t think I’m better than you, Sebastian.”
“Good,” he says, resting his hands on the railing beside his hips and propping his foot up on the lower rung. “Because you’re not. But we do things differently in our circles, so why don’t you run back to mommy and daddy? We’re just taking a smoke break. We’ll go clean up the kitchen in a minute. We’re not looking for any trouble.”
I shoot him an incredulous look. “Are you serious right now? You think I came out here to tell you to get back to work?”
“No,” he says. “You came out here crying because your puny little boyfriend probably forgot to tell you that you’re pretty enough times tonight. That’s your world. This is ours. So just leave us alone and let us have it. And don’t go running your mouth about us when you go back in there.”
“What would I run my mouth about?”
A few guys chuckle and shake their heads. “You really think I’m going to spell it out for you so you can get us fired? Get outta here, Princess.”
I take a step back, feeling stupid. Maybe they’re taking a longer break than they’re allowed, or one of those cigarettes isn’t filled with tobacco, or maybe it’s something else. Whatever the case, I resent being called a snitch. I’m not some goody-two-shoes who’s going to tattle on them like we’re in kindergarten.
“I’m not going to get anyone fired,” I say, drawing myself up. “And if something’s going on… Maybe I could help.”
“You don’t belong here, and it doesn’t concern you,” Sebastian says, tipping his head back and looking down at me coolly. “You couldn’t handle our crowd, anyway.”
“How do you know?”
“Because that’s what you call a party,” the girl in his arms says, tipping her head toward the hotel behind me and cracking a grin.
“What do you call a party?” I ask.
More laughter follows, and the last of the smokers finishes his cigarette and tosses the butt to the curb.
“I’d show you, but I told your brother I’d keep my hands to myself,” Sebastian says, giving me a slow, sexy once-over.
“You think I can’t hang with you?” I ask.
“Nope,” he says, pushing off the railing. “Let’s go, boys. We got a kitchen to clean. And I’ve got a princess to escort back to the ball before they come looking and accuse us of something.”
“I can’t go back there,” I say quickly when he takes my elbow and guides me back through the door. We step into the darkened dining room, faintly lit by the open doors to the hall. Soft moans and deep grunts come from the shadows in the far corner, and my face heats.
“Well, you can’t stay here,” Sebastian says, ignoring the noises. “We got shit to do.”
The couple in the corner quiets, though we can still hear their panting breaths.
A familiar voice echoes down the hallway outside the dining room. “Vivienne!”
My heart does a little flip, though I’m not sure if it’s happiness that Chaz came after me or fear that he’ll find me. I’m not sure I’m ready for the conversation we’ll have, not sure what I want to come from it. I need time to think. I stiffen in Sebastian’s hold, and he relents when I plant my heels.
“Hide me,” I say impulsively.
“What?”
“Hide me,” I repeat. “I don’t want to talk to him.”
“Uh-uh,” Sebastian says, shaking his head. “No way. You’re not going to use us to hide from your little boyfriend when you need us, and then get us in trouble because Little Miss Perfect can’t handle things on the wild side.”
Outside, I hear Krissy’s annoying, high pitched giggle. “She’s got to be here somewhere. Oh, Vi-iv, where are you?”
My blood goes cold.
“I can handle it,” I say, turning to Sebastian and searching his bright green eyes. “Please. I’ll—I’ll help clean the kitchen.”
He snorts. “You really think we need help from some pampered princess who’s never gotten her hands dirty in her life?”
“Please,” I say again, seizing his hand and stepping around him when I hear their voices nearing the dining room. I can’t believe he brought Krissy to help look for me when he knows I was already upset about their relationship. Did he tell her what I said, bring her along so she could assure me nothing happened? I’m seething with embarrassment at the thought, with hurt and anger at Chaz. The last thing I want right now is to have to face either of them.
“Please,” I beg. “Help me, Sebastian. I won’t get in the way, and I won’t say anything to anyone. Just don’t make me go back out there.”
“We’re going to a party afterwards,” he says. “And not this kind of party.”
“Then take me,” I say. “I can handle it. I’m not a goody-girl. I’ll never tell a soul anything that happens tonight. I swear.”
I catch a glimpse of Chaz and Krissy passing the open doorways and shrink behind Sebastian. A little smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.
“Vivienne!” The voice is loud, right outside the door. If they look in, they’ll see us.
Sebastian grabs my hand and darts toward the kitchen, pushing me against the wall and flattening his back against me when a frame fills the doorway.
“She’s not in here,” Krissy says, turning away without looking at the back wall. He attention is caught by a soft whimper the Montgomery girl lets out in the back corner.
“Unless…”
“Get out,” Jacob barks, the sharp command in his voice reminding me that he’s not such a sweet flirt to everyone.
“Sorry,” Krissy says with a nervous giggle, ducking back into the hall.
“Come on,” Sebastian whispers over his shoulder, reaching back to grip my hand again.
We dart sideways, he pushes open the swinging doors, and we dive inside. A laugh bubbles up inside me, and I have to cover my mouth to stifle it.
Sebastian’s hypnotic eyes sparkle with mischief as he smiles down at me, his fingers still linked through mine, our bodies closer than they should be. Behind him, the kitchen is bustling with staff, and a Makaveli song thumps from a radio on one counter.
“If you want to come with us tonight, you can’t be Princess Vivienne Delacroix,” he says. “No good girls allowed. Only bad girls hang with us. Once you step into our world, you’re not a founding daughter or the one calling the shots.”
“Okay,” I say, my heart hammering in my chest. I know I should drop his hand, but I can’t seem to let go.
“I mean it,” he says, his fingers tightening on mine. “This is my world. You don’t get to come into it and try to make it like yours. You don’t get to boss me around like you do in tutoring. I’m in charge here. You do what I want, or you walk right back out the doors and go back to your party.”
“I don’t make you do whatever I want,” I protest.
He gives me a hard look and drops my hand. “You come into my house, you follow my rules. I never said they were the same as your rules. If you don’t like it, go home.”
I swallow hard, my pulse fluttering. I don’t like what he’s saying, but I don’t want to go home. Now that he’s challenged me, I don’t want to back down, either. I know I have nothing to prove, but for some reason, I want to impress him. I want him to see me as something other than a good girl, a nerd, a rich princess. I want him to see me as an equal, as someone cool and confident, who can handle anything and doesn’t care what anyone thinks.
“Look, it’s not that complicated,” he says when I don’t answer. “Either you’re in, or you’re out. If you have to think about it, then you don’t trust me enough to be here.”
He reaches behind me and shoves open the door to the dining room.
“Trust you?” I demand, crossing my arms and not moving. “Why would I trust the guy who bullies me and my friends?”
“Why would I trust you not to tell your parents what goes down with us?” he asks. “Your dad’s a lawyer, for fuck’s sake.”
“I don’t snitch,” I say through clenched teeth.
“Or you could tell your brother, for that matter.”
“What does Rob have to do with anything?”
“You think he wouldn’t kick my ass if he found out I was corrupting his innocent little sister? He’s already threatened to get a restraining order if I touch you.”
“He did what?” I demand, indignation rising inside me. That little shit. I don’t need him going around trying to be some kind of hero or telling me who I can or can’t hang out with.
“I’m his best friend,” Sebastian says. “Of course he’s going to tell me I can’t fuck his baby sister. That’s his duty. Why don’t you go on home and let big brother protect you? I’m not giving up my friendship because you got a taste for the rough stuff.”
“I’m his big sister,” I grit out. “And who said anything about fucking?”
Sebastian hesitates, clearly torn as he stands over me, his gaze searching mine. At last, he cracks a grin and steps back, letting the door fall closed. “Cute. So, you in or out? I got work to do.”
“I’m in,” I say, a shot of adrenaline pulsing inside me. “My lips are sealed. Now show me how it’s done in your world.”