7. West
CHAPTER 7
WEST
Cordelia Calloway is on a mission. It’s clear in her measured steps, her calculating eyes. She looks between Nora and me in a low, assessing sweep.
Her smile is sharp. “West. You made it.”
“Of course. Mom, this is Eléanore Montclair. You know her brother, Raphael. Nora, this is my mother, Cordelia.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Nora shakes my mother’s hand. “This is such a beautiful house.”
“It’s a pleasure.” Mom’s voice is warmer than it was only a moment ago. “I’ve met Raphael many times over the years. It’s lovely to meet his family.”
“Nora just moved to New York.” I put my arm around her waist, and she doesn’t move away. Doesn’t flinch either. Thank god. “She’s my date.”
“I didn’t know you were seeing someone, West.”
I look down at Nora and make my voice teasing. “It took her a while to agree to go out with me.”
“You wore me down,” she says with a pretty, fake smile.
“This is wonderful news,” my mother says, as if we’ve announced a pregnancy. There’s genuineness in her voice, and god knows she’s probably analyzing how great a Montclair-Calloway union would be.
The estate safe, and a wedding to rival the royals.
“I hope you’ll enjoy yourself here tonight. And West, darling, when you have a moment, there are a few people I’d like to introduce you to.”
My hand is pressed flat against the velvet of Nora’s dress. “Later, perhaps,” I say. “I’m going to show Nora off first.”
Her eyes narrow. It’s tiny, but she heard my no for what it was. “Of course. Enjoy yourself, darling. Both of you.”
She walks off, disappearing into the throng of people she’s all personally picked. It doesn’t take long before someone pulls her into a new conversation.
Of course she still wants me to chat with the eligible young women she’s invited, just in case Nora and I don’t work out. Doesn’t matter that I’ve told her over and over again that I don’t welcome, want or favor her interference.
That the more she pushes, the more I’ll resist.
But Cordelia Calloway has never said no to a little manipulation. I’m sure at least six women here were specifically invited for me to meet.
My arm is still wrapped around Nora. She turns to me, and my hand finds the curve of her waist. In her heels, she’s only a few inches shorter than me.
“Why are those women over there,” she murmurs, “staring at me like I’m the enemy?”
“Because they probably think you are.”
Her teeth dig into her full lower lip, and heat shoots through me at the sight. There’s something unexpected in her beauty, something unique. It hits you right beneath the breastbone.
She’s not someone you look at and forget.
“Explain it to me,” she says. “If I’m going to play this part tonight, if we’re… dating tonight… tell me.”
I look past her. There are too many people in this room, too many ears that might overhear. So I nod toward the opening leading to the dining room instead. “Come. Let me show you around.”
She nods, but her eyes are still narrowed.
“And yes, I’ll explain it to you.”
“Good.”
My home has been transformed over the past few days.
There was a line of cars on the tree-lined driveway coming in. Fairhaven rarely has this many guests anymore. After my father died, and since my mother moved into the city, it’s mine. For now. I’ll lose it in five months if I don’t find a way out of the damn marriage rule. Like the controlling bastard he was, the Maverick is still dictating the family’s decisions from beyond the grave.
I’ve never been less grateful to John F. Calloway.
The usually quiet rooms are filled with a low hum of voices of laughter, of music, creating a background swirl of noise. There’s a champagne tower flanked by the open French doors to the terrace and the ocean beyond it. Champagne coupes all stacked upon one another with the golden liquid overflowing.
I reach for two from the top and hand Nora one. “My mother,” I say, “loves to play games.”
Nora looks at me through long lashes. “Like you?”
“She enjoys a different kind. The social ones. This fundraiser is for a charity she’s on the board of.”
The people around me are vaguely familiar, and I know it’s only a matter of time before we’ll be set on by the hordes. There was a time in my life where this sort of thing energized me. The social game, the connections, the strategies. I was young and eager to prove myself.
Then my father died, and I took on the helm of Calloway Holdings, and I had to make sure I don’t become the Calloway that fucks it all up. That Cal Steel doesn’t fail, that the family wealth remains diversified, that our thousands of employees are well-treated.
Making small talk with my second cousin twice removed over the latest political dealings in Washington feels like a waste of time after that.
“But you don’t like being here.” She looks at me with eyes that see far more than I’d like. “Do you?”
“This is my house.”
“You know what I mean. The party.”
“Not particularly.” I’d been the heir for years before Dad passed. But that day was far in the future, until it suddenly wasn’t, and now all of them want access to and influence over me. Leveraging old family or friendship connections into donate to my gubernatorial campaign.
“Huh.” She takes another sip of her champagne and looks around the room. She’s tense, even if she’s wearing that soft, serviceable smile. Such a pretty liar. She doesn’t want to be here either.
“You mean something by that huh .”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
She rolls her eyes, and the placid smile breaks. “Fine, I do.”
“Tell me.”
“Just that I always assumed you and Rafe, Alex and James too, had all the power in the world. That you never did anything you didn’t want to do.” She lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “I guess everyone bends in some ways.”
“This is my house. It would look bad if I wasn’t here.”
“Right. You know, I can’t help but feel like none of this is an explanation as to why your mother is trying to present an entire harem to you.”
That makes me scoff. She wants nothing of the kind. She wants me with a ring on my finger, and not in a courthouse kind of way. No, my mother wants the spectacle. Another giant Calloway wedding, just like her and my father’s.
She’s just as committed as I am to making sure I fulfill the clause of the trust. She’s just determined to go about it in a different way.
“My mother believes in tradition,” I say. “She loves legacy, which means she’d love for me to produce an heir and a spare.” My voice comes out dry. It’s a half-truth, but the details of the trust aren’t publicly known. And lord knows the last thing my mother wants is for me to find any kind of happiness or love. Not that that can be found in marriages, anyway. I’ve seen what society matches look like.
It’s all manipulation and games.
And not the fun kind.
“So she’s trying to set you up?” Nora asks.
“She’s trying to engineer somewhat organic meetings between me and single women she’s vetted.”
Her eyebrows draw close. “And you’re not interested in any of them?”
“In being pushed together with someone I don’t know by my mother ? No. You’re my shield tonight, trouble. Just like I’m yours.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Trouble? It’s the truth, isn’t it?” I look through the open doors and past the terrace. The sun has long since set and the ocean is just a sea of darkness at the end of the property. “You’ve been trouble since you arrived in this city.”
The practiced, easy smile she’s worn all night is nowhere to be seen. I feel a dark satisfaction at seeing the real her again.
“I’m not trouble,” she says. “I’m just trying to live my life.”
“And causing chaos in mine,” I reply. “But we’re allies tonight, and we have an audience.” I lean in closer; I can’t help myself. “You’re not wearing your lovely fake smile right now.”
“I don’t fake smile.”
“Yes. You do it all the time.”
“You’re impossible.” She takes a sip of champagne and runs a hand over her neck. The movement sweeps her hair to the side, revealing a curve of pale skin.
I look away.
Like my little sister , I remind myself again. It sounds mocking now. She’s always been pretty and off-limits. Pretending tonight doesn’t change a thing.
A group of people across the champagne tower watch us with undisguised interest. I almost never bring dates to parties like this. Haven’t for years, at any rate. But here I am with Nora by my side.
There will be talk in the morning.
We move through the crowd, stopping to chat with various guests. I introduce Nora as my date, watching as eyebrows raise and whispers start. She plays her part well, laughing at the right moments and charming everyone she meets. Most people recognize her last name; her brother is no stranger to these parties, even if he’s not here tonight. Some recognize her from the campaigns and the billboards she’s graced during her years as a model.
We get separated during a discussion with some of my business associates, and I find her again a few steps away, sampling from a tray of bacon-wrapped dates.
“Stay close to me,” I tell her.
“Are you worried about the safety of your own party, in your own house?” She grabs another glass of champagne from the tray. “That doesn’t sound great if I’m meant to stay here. Rafe called this place a fortress.”
“It is. When it’s not filled with people.” I lead her out of the house and onto the terrace. The spring air is cool, and it smells like the ocean. Our dock is lit up with a few lights at the far end. “The entire perimeter is controlled. You’re safer than in your apartment.”
She raises an eyebrow and nods out to the ocean. “The entire perimeter?”
“We have naval mines in place, yes, and a state-of-the-art ballistic submarine operates out of the boathouse.”
Her lips part. “What?”
“My guards patrol the outer fence and the shoreline.”
“Asshole,” she mutters, turning to face the water. A breeze catches her dark hair, lifts tendrils of it.
My hand tightens at my side. She’ll be staying here, week after week. Night after night. I’m going to have to ask Ernest to give her the wing farthest from mine. I need to put space between us.
Entire corridors of space.
“West!” My sister walks toward us, her strawberry blonde hair loose around her shoulders. “There you are. I’ve been dying to meet your date.”
Nora turns too. Her smile is back, like it never left, serviceable and charming. “Hi!”
“Hello.” She extends a hand to Nora. “I couldn’t believe it when Cecil told me that Mae had told him that my brother brought a date tonight.”
“Amber,” I warn.
“I have so many questions,” she tells Nora.
I narrow my eyes at them both. “No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do.” Amber takes a step closer to me. “You should head into the library. Cecil is here, and he has news for you. Something about Calloway Steel and an investor meeting?”
Damn. That might actually be important. I find the closest security guard, who’s standing by the edge of the terrace, and nod to bring him over. “Keep your eye on these two,” I tell Sam. “You don’t let my sister or my… date out of your sight.”
“Yes, sir,” he says.
I give the two women one last glance. One dark-haired and one reddish, looking at each other with barely disguised curiosity.
How much trouble could they get into?