Chapter 5 30 September 2016 #2
At that moment, Madison breezed in from the terrace in an Oscar de la Renta midi dress in deep aubergine. Her red waves tumbled loosely down her back.
‘Where’s Elle?’ she asked Alice sharply. ‘And what are you doing in here, gossiping? Why didn’t you come get me immediately?’
Alice got to her feet, stammering. ‘I’m sorry. She went to her room, I think? With Beatrice?’
‘Unbelievable.’ Madison cast Hannah an icy glare, then shouldered sharply past them, towards the back of the penthouse.
‘I’d better…’ Alice trailed off, then slunk after Madison. It seemed unlikely she’d make it past the threshold of Elle’s bedroom door.
Left to her own devices, Hannah stood and made her way over to the Harringtons’ butler, an older man named Charles Stewart, who was making his rounds with a silver tray.
As she reached for a glass of red wine, she thought she caught a flash of disapproval in his eyes, but he kept his lips pressed together tight.
Everyone else was drinking, and Hannah could have one glass without her parents suspecting anything.
She’d felt perfectly sober after that glass of champagne last New Year’s, after all.
She wandered out onto the wraparound terrace.
It was occupied by a couple of the Harringtons’ friends, but now devoid of anyone from Prescott.
Cashmere throws had been draped over chair backs, a nod to the autumn chill likely to set in before the party concluded.
But she had no intention of sticking around that long.
It had been nice to be invited, but Elle was dealing with breakup drama, and Hannah was still on Madison’s naughty list, so she took a healthy sip of wine, then another, and pulled out her phone.
Things are getting weird over here. Meet me at the Harringtons and let’s take a walk?
Hannah placed her phone on a small teak patio table and waited for Oliver Morgan to text her back. She didn’t have to wait long.
What’s going down at Chez Harrington? The Upper Edge has been suspiciously silent all night.
Theo dumped Elle and now it’s all hands on deck. Which is my cue to head out. Can you meet me or not?
Ooh, drama of the highest order. Yeah, I can meet up. Give me fifteen to get over there.
Fantastic. Text me when you’re close and I’ll meet you out front.
Ten minutes later, Hannah had finished her wine and returned to the living room. Theo Fitzgerald was gone. In the library, Elle had resumed her place in the same club chair by the now-smouldering fire. In a matching chair on the other side of the fireplace sat Madison DuPont.
Hannah turned to listen to the pianist. She did feel for Elle, and she’d make a point of giving her some extra grace at school next week, no matter what nastiness she wrought, but she’d had enough of the duelling queens and their power plays for one evening.
She glanced at her phone, waiting for Oliver’s text.
He should be outside any minute. Maybe he’d be in the mood for tacos or dumplings.
The quail skewers, mini croque-monsieur bites and spiced madeleines that were circulating had been tasty, but hardly a meal.
In that moment, the elevator doors opened, and Oliver stepped through the vestibule and into the Harringtons’ living room in an outfit that was technically formalwear but much louder – and much oranger – than anything else being worn to the party.
Hannah rushed over. ‘I thought we were meeting outside?’
‘Relax, relax. We’ll leave in a minute. But first, a word with Mademoiselle Elle.’
‘Are you sure? We should probably…’
This seemed like a bad idea. But Oliver nodded, and Hannah pointed to the library.
Oliver had taken no more than two steps before Madison was on her feet and walking briskly towards them.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she hissed, blocking Oliver’s path. Then she turned to Hannah. ‘Did you invite him?’
‘I—’ Hannah began to say, but Madison didn’t let her finish.
‘You both need to leave, now.’
Before Hannah could respond, Bash was beside them. He gave Oliver a once-over, eyes trailing down and then up his orange, double-breasted Sebastian Cruz Couture jacket, then coming to rest on his diamond-studded collar. Without saying a word to Oliver, he turned to Madison instead.
His tone was soothing. ‘Our girl is in a fragile state tonight, and we all need to keep things mellow. For Elle’s sake.’
‘We were just…’ Hannah gestured weakly to the vestibule.
‘Leaving, I’m sure,’ Bash said. Any camaraderie they’d shared earlier on the sofa was gone. It was every person behind Elle now, and Hannah had upset the order of things by inviting a bright orange distraction into the Harringtons’ demure and stately quarters when clearly the opposite was desired.
Oliver planted his feet. ‘I thought I’d stay for a drink, say a few words to our host. Looks like Elle could use a bit of levity tonight.
’ It struck Hannah that for all the contempt Oliver showed for Prescott’s elite, he was desperate for acceptance.
Even the tentative nods of approval they’d shown Hannah had been denied to him for years.
‘The fuck you will,’ Madison hissed, voice shimmering with venom, but low enough so as not to be overheard. ‘Elle is not your host, and the last thing she needs is new money trash stinking up her night. You’ll only remind her of Gemma.’
Hannah cringed, but Oliver’s face remained impassive.
In a flash of deep aubergine crêpe and shimmering red locks, Madison turned to Charles, who just as swiftly placed the silver drinks tray on an end table and took Oliver firmly by the elbow.
‘Right this way, Mr Morgan.’
‘I—’ Oliver began to protest, tugging at the butler’s grasp, but just as quickly, the fight drained out of him. ‘Fine, you can chill. I’m leaving.’
The butler released his hold, and Oliver walked back to the vestibule, spine arrow straight.
Madison turned to Hannah. ‘You’ve got a lot of nerve,’ she said through clenched teeth. ‘Not sure if that’s admirable or suicidal.’
‘Guess you’ll have to keep me around to find out,’ Hannah muttered. Then, without waiting for Bash or Madison to reply, she hurried to the elevator and jammed her finger onto the button.