Chapter 18
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
Iris
M om flutters around, tidying things and fussing over Rue who’s near her. But she’s studying us all, trying to make the best of what she sees as a bad situation.
Heath glares at Quinn, who stopped by. I’ve warned her not to say a thing about the bar, because Heath’s got a way of getting things out of her.
“Heather,” she says, “you’ve never looks so beautiful.”
“Bite me.”
“Not interested in rabies.” Then Quinn looks at Mom. “What does it say, Mrs. Gardener?”
The letter sits, opened, the thick slate-gray cotton paper with the silver writing on the front. Our address, to the head of the household, is ominous.
And the way Mom’s being, I don’t even need to see or hear the contents to know what it says.
She hasn’t said a word in the hour since it arrived, just fluttered and sighed and fussed.
I called Quinn for back up.
At least Mari and I never made it to the Black Briar when we went shopping.
That would have caused more problems as everywhere we went I swear we were watched.
Instead, we went somewhere nice off the square, which meant Reece had to wait with the other servants outside with our stuff.
It made me shamed to do that, but as he muttered, we had to do it.
So we did and I don’t think Heath heard about the altercation. If he did, he knows we went somewhere nice after and not to the Lower Side.
Or maybe he’s just got bigger things to mull on.
Maybe I do, too.
I try and swallow over the growing lump in my throat.
Mom pulls out a chair and sits, and Rue scampers over to the tall glass pitcher and pours Mom a glass of the ginger lemonade.
“What do you think it says?” I hiss. “That I’m the best. Read the room, Quinn!”
She shrugs and mouths, “I’m trying.”
Mom hands back the ginger lemonade. “Oh no, Rue. Something stronger. Some wine, please.”
If things didn’t have a dire sting, I’d laugh. Mom isn’t much of a drinker. Then I sober, the laughter leaking away. Have I driven her to drink?
Strain pulls at Mom’s mouth and when Rue returns with a glass from the drawing room, Mom takes a ladylike sip, sets it down and says, “Well, you’re still in the running, Iris.”
My heart sinks. “For Luxe?”
Heath’s gaze cuts to me, a warning.
“No, dear. The Season. Pen called me and said you didn’t make a good impression on the Monarch.” Then Mom smooths a hand over the tablecloth and pushes the envelope toward my brother who’s standing in the middle of the dining room.
Dahlia dutifully takes it to him.
I exchange a look with Mari, and Quinn slips her hand in mine and squeezes.
I’m glad for the support. I just wish I had Violet here. She’d make everything better than this.
The mood’s slipped. Low.
Right now, it feels like we’re at a wake.
Which, I guess we are.
For my eligibility and reputation.
Everyone’s at that wake, mourning that death of eligibility and reputation, except me. I’m at a party in my head, screaming yes to the heavens.
Heath frowns. “That promise of being good, Iris? Of accepting callers and the like?”
“Yes?” My brother’s killing that inner party.
“Not good enough. Clearly.” He takes a breath like he’s gulping down booze. Then he looks at Mom. “We need a dress for this ball that’s coming up. A makeover. Nice hair, makeup, something that says soft, eligible. Approachable.”
Mom perks up at that. “We can go shopping?—”
“First thing in the morning,” he says.
“I bought a dress and shoes, Heath,” I state.
He waves that off. “You can wear that later. Mom’s dealing with this.”
“But—”
“Or I am.”
I stare him down and he stares me down right back and Quinn gives my hand a squeeze, but then his terrible, cold and thundery gaze hits her and she lets go. The traitor.
“You are not.”
“Don’t argue with me or I’ll buy all your dresses.”
“Mom, girls, go about your business. Iris, my office. Quinn—” He shakes his head and this time there isn’t even a flicker of amusement around his mouth. “Why are you even here? Go home.”
“Don’t be an ape, Heather.” But Quinn gives me a hug and leaves. I trail Heath into his study.
“That was rude.”
“Everything you do is rude and out of order, Iris, just taking a page out of your book. He stands at his desk, back to me, as he looks at something on his laptop. Then he straightens. “You need to up the game.”
“Up the game?”
“In finding a match.”
“There’s only been one ball, Heath. The Season just started.
I didn’t like the dude you dragged in here.
” I cross my arms and tap a finger at my cheek.
“I am allowed to choose someone I like, right? Or is it just anyone? You don’t care if I’m happy or miserable, you just want to mate me off to the highest bidder regardless if I like him. ”
“Not the highest bidder,” he says, all sarcastic, “just the one who’ll take you and isn’t scandal ridden.”
I throw my hands up. “That’s right, we need to stop the scandal of Dad’s money issues, don’t we?”
“Iris.” He slams a fist down on the desk. “Drop the attitude. You’ll go out with whomever asks and that’s final. That is, if any turn up to ask you out.”
“He’s with Alicia.”
“She’ll drop him like he’s hot.” He clicks his tongue. “I’m aware she’s a vacuous creature.”
I narrow my eyes. “Did you try and date her?”
Heath, for what it’s worth, looks horrified. “Good god, no. I’ve just seen her in action. But you could learn from her?—”
“How to be a bitch?”
“How to play the game, Iris,” he says softly. “She’s going to play it hard, find the best, the richest, the most eligible and do her damnedest to win him. She’ll be the person he thinks he wants. Do that.”
“You want me to lie?”
He huffs out air. “I want you not to be a pain in my ass.” Then Heath leans against the desk. “I want you happy, but I want you happy with a mate. And there are more Alphas coming in for this Season, if Stephan’s to be believed. Which he is. He hears things, passed it along.”
I make an immediate note to visit Violet. I miss her, and I can grill her damned mate, too.
“Fine,” I push out. “I’ll be on my best behavior. Happy?”
“I will be. When you prove it to me.”
“When did you become such a fascist, Heath?”
He shrugs. “When my younger sister decided to try and single-handedly bring more scandal on the family. Now, go. I’ve got a dress shopping expedition to deal with in the morning.”
True to his word, Mom and Heath head out as soon as the stores open. And I’m…I’m stuck inside.
Rue’s learning a new dance in her room that she swears is the latest thing and plans to debut it at the ball.
Violet isn’t answering her phone but I think she has a host of doctor appointments booked by Stephan today. I check my messages, and yep…she does. Knowing Vi, I send her a text.
Hope the checkups go well, let’s hang soon. Miss you the most, Iris X
Dahlia’s downstairs practicing for her part of the orchestra for the ball as there seems to be a small orchestra this time…
And Mari… I don’t know where Mari is.
I couldn’t be bothered searching the house for her, so I pick up my phone and text.
Where are you?
Mari responds a few minutes later.
Mari
Don’t b mad, Iris. I tagged along with H and Mom. Figured u might want H soothed a little and led in a nicer direction.
And???
She goes silent.
I repeat the message.
And???
Finally she responds.
Mari
I’m sure we can work with it. Dress is the best of the bunch. I nixed the hair appointment and threw in ‘frugality’ and said I’d do it. Mom picked the makeup.
Oh. God.
Are they putting me in some shapeless floor length gown?
Actually, when I think about that, I could make that work, so I’m betting whatever was chosen is more hideous.
Hair by Mari would work if I was another person, but she likes soft and romantic, natural looks. I…don’t.
And while I trust her, she’s going to have to work with Heath and Mom. If Mom chose the makeup, it’ll be pastels, a garden of spring colors for my face which will be wrong. And I’m betting there won’t be liquid eyeliner to be seen.
I give up and throw myself on the bed.
One ball. One.
That’s all I need to get through being forced so far in the opposite direction from my style—one.
One ball and then I can be me again. I’ll go out with these idiots and not choose one of them. And hopefully by next Season, Mari’s debut will be so exciting no one will pay attention to me. That’s the plan anyway.
I’m about to get up and find a book to read when my phone lights up.
And my heart starts a wild, urgent beat.
Unknown number.
Killian
You still interested in attending the meeting, Icy?
Killian.
Heat pools inside, down in my pelvis and I try and breathe. It’s just a message.
But my hands shake as I text back.
When?
Killian
Ten p.m. Saturday.
What? My chest tightens. But that’s the Rivers of Light ball. And he knows I’m a supposedly rich Omega.
If I go to the meeting, I’ll cause scandal by not showing to the ball. If I attend the ball I can’t shake the feeling I’ll be missing something important and life changing.
Fuck.
There’s no way around it.
I’m going to have to go to both.
If I sneak out of the ball and attend the meeting, then I’ll have to make like Cinderella and sneak back in before midnight.
No biggie.
Right, and I can mate with whoever I want, like a Delta.
The shake’s worse as I text him back.
Where?