Chapter 12
12
Cat
M y asshole father eats lunch at the same restaurant every Saturday. It’s a see-and-be-seen type of place, which he vastly prefers to a family meal at home. As a child, I wondered why he didn’t want to eat at home, with me. As a teen, I grew to relish the weekends he was gone. Saturdays alone were bliss. My stepmom would inevitably be at the spa, so it would be just me and Brenda Archer, baking cookies at her house and trying to get Theo to help us decorate them. Half the time, it ended with him squirting icing on my face and running away with my best-decorated specimens.
And for the last few years, I waited for my dad to leave on Saturday morning, packed my bags, and left for the weekend. To Blair’s, where she’d take me to bars, and we’d go dancing. Or most recently, to weekend classes to shore up my English degree and turn it into something that could actually get me into business school.
I push open the door to the restaurant and immediately spot my father in the corner. He’s with a group of men around his age, and a lone woman. Probably Celia Drake, the only remaining woman on the board of Peterson International. The host gestures for me to go ahead when I tell him why I’m here, and nerves begin firing inside me. I press a fist to my stomach. I’ve already sweated through the blouse under my coat.
I will not panic.
Regrettably, my voice comes out high and nervous when I greet my father.
“What are you doing here?” he snaps.
“I came to talk to you.” I lift my chin. I didn’t want to do it here, in front of all these people, but I’m sure as hell not going back to Rockwood.
He gives me an insulting brow raise. His cronies are silent and still. “Run out of money already?”
I redden. “No.” Every snappy retort and brilliant comeback has fled. My father knows better than anyone how to make me feel small.
“If you’re not here to tell me you’re marrying Arnold Worth, I don’t want to hear it. You know the terms.”
Ha. Vicious satisfaction buoys me. He has no idea. “I don’t need to marry Arnold Worth,” I say. “I am married.” I hold my hand up so my father can see the massive diamond Theo bought. I hate the ring and how it feels like a lead weight, but my father will understand. It’s bigger than anything Arnold Worth can afford.
Thank you, Theo. For being the cocky jerk I know you to be, and for being so very good at throwing things in people’s faces.
My father’s eyes narrow. “Who married you?”
“Theo Archer,” I say with a small smile.
For a brief moment, my father looks unsettled, but he quickly recovers. “The Archer boy?” he scoffs. “You always were obsessed with him. Like mother, like daughter, I guess.”
Arnold Worth’s father laughs. He’s also named Arnold Worth, because he’s a pompous and uncreative prick. His primary interest in life is kissing my father’s ass. I narrow my eyes at him. He’ll be the first to go after I oust my dad.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I shouldn’t even dignify my father with a response, but every time he brings up my mother, I can’t help it.
“She always had a weak spot for the unwashed masses.” He shrugs, smiling, knowing this will drive me crazy. He’s so good at this, twisting a conversation to go in his favor.
I dig my nails into my palms. I need to regain control of this conversation. “The shares are mine. You’re done. If you step down now, I’ll let you keep Rockwood.”
I won’t have enough shares to oust my father without the board’s help. But maybe the estate is enough to tempt him to give up the company.
“Step down?” He barks a laugh. “You have a lot to learn about business, girl. I won’t step down. You’ll have to get rid of me the hard way. If you can stay married for that long. If the Archer boy doesn’t get bored and divorce you the first chance he gets.”
If the Archer boy doesn’t get bored. I fight to swallow down the embarrassment. My dad knows Theo left, even if he doesn’t know that it was mere days after we kissed.
It doesn’t matter if Theo gets bored. We’re done after a year. As soon as I have the shares.
I’m frozen with rage as my father shakes his head and turns back to his lunch martini and steak. Arnold Worth the Third slaps him on the back and mutters something in his ear.
The board members ignore me, and I turn on my heel and walk out the door.
I’m sweating under my coat, and the late February air feels deliciously cool on my cheeks. “Fuck,” I mutter as I pull out my phone. That went badly. Worse than I expected. Every confrontation with my father makes me feel helpless. I keep waiting to impress him, just like I keep waiting for him to change. I text Blair.
Cat
I’m going to need a lot of alcohol later.
Blair
I’m free after my shift later. List night? ?
I smile despite the awfulness of the encounter with my dad. Blair loves list night.
Cat
You know it.
A message comes through from Lane as Blair responds.
Lane
You did not tell me you were marrying Theo! What the hell? And now this pops up on social media!
She sends a link to the picture the PR firm posted. I click it. Theo and I look like we just got out of bed. I have sex hair, and my hand with the ring is pressed to his arm as he kisses me. My stomach flips. I scroll to the comments and suck in a breath. I shouldn’t have looked. I knew what I’d find.
R1nggurlmissy: he’s so hot
Addictive_lady: no way this marriage lasts. she’s the worst. he’ll get bored.
Hottatertot: I’ll marry him if he needs a wife
Lovely. I shut the app, nausea rising at how I’m portrayed. I don’t need to see that people think Theo will get bored. I already know I’ve never been enough to hold his interest. I open my texts with Lane.
Cat
Come over later. I’ll explain everything.
“You married him? Really? I thought he was joking.” Lane bursts into the mansion later, her arms full of bags. “I brought supplies. I know he never has food.”
“Oh, thank god. He ate chocolate mousse for breakfast this morning.”
She shakes her head and follows me into the living room. “He lives like a college guy. Well, except for the massive mansion and the professional decorator. Other than that. Wait until he throws a party.”
“You’ve been?” I turn to her with a bottle of wine I snagged from Theo’s wine cellar. An actual cellar. There must be five hundred bottles in there. When I asked if I could drink them, he just shrugged, pressed a key into my hand, and told me they came with the house.
“Oh, I’ve been. Miles goes. Theo was back for the holidays and threw a party over Christmas. He had a hot Santa who made lewd comments when you sat on his lap. And a giant Christmas Tree pi?ata filled with hundred-dollar bills and little bottles of liquor.” Lane squints. “And a hot chocolate bar. It’s a bit fuzzy, honestly. I think he spiked the cocoa.”
I laugh. “That sounds like Theo.”
“So how the hell did you end up married to him? I mean, I’m glad. Miles told me you were friends. But it’s a bit sudden, isn’t it?” She accepts the wineglass I pass her, and we curl up on the couch.
I tilt my head. “It’s not real. Miles told you that, right? Theo said the only people who would know the truth were you two, Jonah, and Callie.”
Lane reddens. “I just assumed, you know, since Miles and I fake dated and ended up together, that maybe you and Theo—”
“Oh no.” I shake my head, and wine sloshes in my glass. “No. Definitely not. We’re not an item. He doesn’t even like me. I don’t like him.”
“Okay.” Lane makes a face. “Forget I said anything. So you married him because…?”
“My inheritance. Mainly, the shares of my mom’s family company that my dad is running into the ground.” I wince. “I saw him today. It did not go well.”
“Yikes.” Lane reaches over to squeeze my arm. “What happened?”
“He won’t step down.” My shoulders slump. “I didn’t really think he would, but he’s setting me up for a battle with the board. He’s the old guard, I’m new. I have no experience, he’s been CEO for thirty years. And he’s just such an ass.” I shake my head. “I keep waiting for us to have a conversation that doesn’t end in threats or insults. ”
“Maybe it’s time to give up on that,” Lane says softly. “Didn’t he take the money from the Montauk house you sold to Miles?”
My mouth twists. I surreptitiously sold one of my family properties to Lane’s boyfriend last year, in an effort to get free from my family. “Yeah. My tuition money. He seized the account.”
“He’s an asshole,” Lane says. “I’m glad you’re out of there.” Lane doesn’t know everything about my parents, but she knows enough to hate them.
“Out of the frying pan into the fire,” I mutter.
Lane laughs. “Come on. Living with Theo won’t be that bad. The house is nice, at least. And I bet he has all sorts of gadgets.”
I nod. “Fifty-seven cars in the basement garage, if the tabloids are to be believed. And naked photos of himself on the walls.”
“Really?” Lane’s eyes are huge.
“No. Though maybe in his bedroom? He does have a pretty big ego.”
“A big ego, eh?” Lane wags her brows, and we dissolve into laughter.
When Blair arrives, we’re on our way to being well and truly drunk, and I’ve managed to mostly forget about my father’s awfulness.
“What’s next on the list?” Blair asks as she snags a glass of wine and sets it on one of the trays. The couches in here are huge and squishy, and all the footrests come with trays so that we can balance a glass of wine or a snack on the end.
“Ooh, I forgot it was list night.” Lane rubs her hands together.
“No you didn’t,” I respond. “You just like to pretend you aren’t scheming.” Lane, like Blair, is way too into the list.
Blair cackles evilly, and Lane high-fives her.
“I mean the list is pretty tame,” Blair says.
“It has do something bad on it,” I proclaim, waving the sheet of paper in the air.
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Blair scoffs. “Besides, I know that in parentheses, you added and don’t get caught . What’s your plan for that? ”
“You know.” I gesture vaguely. “I’ll do something a little bit bad. Like shoplifting a soda and giving it back later. Peeing behind a parked car.”
“Wow. A rebel.” Lane is fighting a smile. “Is that the plan for tonight?”
“Let’s see what I have left.” It’s a lot. I created the “get a life” list when I moved out of Rockwood. It seemed like a great idea at the time, but I’ve already crossed out all the easy stuff.
“Okay. We’ve got learn to drive . That’s not happening tonight. Skinny dipping in the ocean. In February. No thanks.”
Lane scrunches her face. “Miles is in LA with the jet, or I’d offer to take us somewhere warm.”
“Sounds like tattoo time to me,” Blair cuts in.
“Ooh.” Lane leans in. “Maybe Theo’s name in a heart?”
I roll my eyes and go back to the list, ignoring the back side of the page, where I’ve listed the things I can’t tell even my friends. “Slam my hands down on a cab and say ‘I’m walking here.’ Did that. Dance on a table.”
“Dance on a table.” Blair sits up straight. “It’s Saturday night. Perfect night for dancing on a table.”
Lane claps her hands. “Let’s do it. But wait.” She frowns. “I don’t know anywhere you can dance on a table.” Lane is not a partier. She, like me, likes quiet nights at home. But she does like causing trouble, and she’ll always stick up for her friends.
“Oh stop.” Blair rolls her eyes, but she’s already pulling out her phone. “Let me ask Daryl. He’s young and fun.”
“He’s going to send us to a gay bar,” Lane says.
“So? Best place to dance on a table, in my opinion,” Blair replies while speed texting.
“Because”—Lane grins—“after the other night, I think it’s time for a little payback.”
“What does that mean?” I ask warily.
“Didn’t you say Theo was pretending to be out with a woman?”
“He was,” I say slowly. “But he’s not with her.” And it made my insides twist with anger when I saw him. I felt like I was going to throw up on the bar. And why? I have no claim to him. He’s an ex-friend and a fake husband, nothing more.
“So what?” Blair says. “You want to live a little, right? This is how you do it.”
“Dance on a table, flirt with men, do some shots, let loose.” Lane’s eyes are bright with excitement.
“I don’t know.” I chew my lip. I shouldn’t have started the list. It’s too much. Nerves take flight in my stomach. I should stay home. It’s safer here. That familiar tug grows. Don’t reach for too much, Cat. Every time I have, I’ve been slapped down. You’re not that kind of girl. It’s my stepmother’s voice that rings in my head. Well meaning, sure, but she’d decided who I would be before I ever got a chance to. I take a deep breath, look my friends in the eye, and say, “Let’s do it.”
The nerves are back as we step out of the cab in front of Hedonism. I know Theo comes here. It’s sexy and mysterious—a black painted door, a velvet rope, and a bouncer in a suit.
“Can we get in here?” I hiss at Lane. I don’t have an invitation, and I’m no one these days.
“Totally.” She winks at me. “I called ahead and let them know we were coming. Theo’s name opens lots of doors.”
“It’s good to be him,” Blair mutters, smoothing her silk dress over her thighs. She’s in all black, looking sexy and dangerous. I’m in a short dress that Lane lent me. The navy silk drapes low in the back, open nearly all the way to my butt. It’s held up by jeweled straps. Not something I’d normally wear, but stuffing armfuls of Valentino into my suitcase wasn’t top of mind when I fled Rockwood.
“You look great. Stop fussing.” Lane swans up to the bouncer and shows her ID. He nods and opens the door. Two steps, and we’re enveloped in pulsing darkness. Music thumps, growing louder as we pass through the coat check and down the hall. It’s low and sexy, with a beat that vibrates through my body, setting the fine hairs on my arms on end and making my stomach tumble .
Lane grins at us. “I see why people do this,” she shouts as we step into the main area. “I’m getting drinks.”
Lane orders something that’s fruity and definitely too strong, and we make our way to the clusters of low-slung couches. The furniture is velvet, gilt and jewel tones. Curtains hang at intervals, the rich brocade a backdrop for plants spilling obscenely from their pots. It’s a riot of life.
“It’s like a debauched Versailles,” I say to Blair, who is looking around with a half smile.
“This is where Theo goes?” she responds, tilting her head to a couch where a man and two women are a tangle of limbs.
“He’s a bad boy.” I shrug, even though the thought of Theo here fills me with nerves. Ugh. I could see it too. His eyes half-lidded, his hand gripping the straps of the woman’s dress, like the man’s big hand is doing. The man sees me looking and cocks his head in invitation, a smile playing over his lips. I jerk my gaze away. “That guy just propositioned me. With his eyes. ”
Blair bursts out laughing. “What did you expect? The name of the club is Hedonism.”
“I don’t know.” My cheeks are hot, and I so badly want to have even 10 percent of Blair’s cool acceptance. I’m not totally innocent. I’ve just been sheltered. And fuck, I don’t want to be anymore. I want to be like Lane, with her tattoo bared between the swells of her breasts, her hips swinging as she walks back from the bar. I want to be like Blair, who looks positively bored at the writhing bodies around us.
So when Lane offers us shots with a wicked grin and then snaps a selfie of our group, I down the drink in one go and ask for another.
“Let’s go, wild child,” Blair shouts.
Let’s fucking go, indeed.