Chapter 4
CHAPTER
FOUR
Stephan
“ A re you going to talk to her?” Pen asks from under the cover of her cabana in the shade.
She doesn’t usually like the displays of the hypocrisies of society. Then again…
“Nope.” I throw myself onto the cushions, big fat ones in silk and brocade. It’s quite comfortable, actually, because whatever was laid down on the ground for cover is soft and slightly bouncy.
And I’m not letting my mind explore ways I could make this floor fun. Not with my fucking aunt so close.
We’re on a small hill under a huge tree, and Pen has the pale green gossamer curtains drawn back to watch everyone run around and try to impress the fucking Monarch. Who, in typical fashion, is not showing her face.
But she’ll be watching. And no doubt expecting me .
“It’s only proper, you know.”
“Don’t care, not going to happen, Pen.”
She makes a sound from her chair. It’s a lot like disapproval. While disapproval isn’t something I’ve had to experience since I became famous and the darling of the screen and Stitch posts, along with the tabloids themselves, I know it well. And it sends me tumbling back into the past.
One of her staff offers me fruit and cheese on a platter. I’m fucking loaded even without the family money, but I don’t have staff like servants. It’s a different world here, all right.
“I didn’t realize you two were on talking terms.”
Pen flicks a crumb of cake off her throw that covers her legs and sips her drink. “We’re not. She’s?—”
“A controlling battle-ax without one shred of humanity?” I say, offering her the smile that’s made me millions. “I thought so.”
“Don’t flash that thing at me, Stephan. It won’t work.”
The smile vanishes, and I narrow my eyes. “What thing?”
“That award-winning idiotic smile. It belongs to the movie star, not to you.”
“Hate to break it to you, Pen, but I am that movie star.”
She lifts her chin, her gaze sweeping back out to the scene below. “What do you think of our available beauties?”
Something in my gut tightens. “I’m not interested in mating. And if I were, the Omega in question wouldn’t be some boring hothouse thing with no idea of actual life.”
She takes a deep breath. “This is a nice place.”
I get up, after helping myself to a handful of grapes. “So’s the real world, Pen. ”
“There are some lovely Omegas. I’m quite taken with the Gardener one. Violet? A surface pleaser, but with substance.” She nods thoughtfully, watching as some kids tear past.
I go to the tent’s opening and scan the park and the picnic. It’s the stuff they like to make movies about—with me in them.
Overdressed girls swan around in groups, mothers crane their necks to see what other mothers are doing, or fuss over their kids. And the guys? They’re just waiting for the fruit to fall and get sampled by them.
I’m sure there’s some who want the real thing, a romantic match. But it’s all fucking bullshit.
The only truth in this whole scenario is Pen’s well-meaning ways, and how pretty much everyone out there is trying to catch a glimpse of the old self-labeled Monarch herself.
She does rule the Council everywhere, but she prefers to stay here, where society is everything.
“I’m not about to go near a Gardener girl.”
“Why not? Even a dance, Stephan? But as far as matches go, you could do worse.”
I turn and face Pen. “I’m not on the market, and I’m not courting.”
“Stephan—”
I stop her with a hard look. “You know that Heath’s my best friend. So any Gardener girl would be from his family, and therefore off my radar completely. Got it? Good.”
One penciled eyebrow rises in a challenge, but she doesn’t say a word. It fucking annoys me just the same.
“Anyway, I’ve got things to do. ”
With that, I leave.
The trouble with making a dramatic exit is I really have nothing to do. I don’t want to go and mingle with the boring well-bred. I certainly don’t want to have to sign autographs or make small talk with fans.
Scratch that. No one here is that gauche to ask for an autograph, but I don’t feel like playing nice.
I don’t want a fucking cupcake, and I don’t want to give any mate-hungry Omegas the wrong idea.
Heath’s here, but I spoke to him already, and just from that small exchange it was clear that even his burdens have burdens, this day being one of them, so he’s going to be no fun.
I could go set up my town home, rearrange some things, remove dust covers, drink the booze cabinet dry.
Which is a problem. I know I shouldn’t do the latter, not on my first day.
There are people I have to see, people I don’t want to see who no doubt don’t want to see me, but…I need to do it. So I skulk through the wild maze, one that will take a person out to the other side of the park, and then I can just go to the lower side of town, catch a show, pick up a girl, have some?—
“You look like you don’t want to be here,” comes a young female voice with a note of accusation. I turn.
There’s a girl there, long dark hair, jeans and yellow top. She’s got a bedazzled phone in one hand that matches the color of her top, like it’s got chips of yellow diamonds and topaz all over it.
She’s pretty, on the teen cusp between grownup and child. She tilts her head and puts her hand on her hip. “Why?”
“Go away, kid.” I start walking away.
She follows, skipping along. “You were talking to my brother. How do you know Heath?”
Oh, fuck. Is she his sister? That girl, Violet? Health barely spoke of his family when we were in school, but I know he has sisters. Everyone knows the Gardeners were blessed with a handful of Omegas, but their names are what I don’t know.
What the fuck is wrong with this place? She’s a child. She should be playing with her friends, not looking for a mate. Why would Pen even mention her as a good match for me? That’s fucked up.
“We went to school together. Now go away…er…Violet.”
She gasps. “O.M.G., do you know Violet? Do you think I look like her? She’s so pretty.” The girl grins. “I’m Rue.” She glances at her phone then at me. “Do you have a younger brother? All the online info about you says you don’t talk about family, but if you do have a younger brother, do you think he’ll like me? I want to mate with a handsome man just like Violet does, so you’re handsome and you’ll mate with her, and your brother can mate with me!”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. The girl might be thirteen or something, but she clearly is already mate-hungry.
“No brother, and I’m not looking for a mate. ”
She isn’t bothered. Rue rolls her eyes, tosses her hair, starts trotting along next to me to keep up with my longer strides. “Why are you here, then? Everyone knows all the boys—except my brother because he’s too busy filling in for Dad—are looking for the perfect Omega. We’re all Omegas, did you know that? Of course, Heath isn’t. He’s an Alpha. He should be finding a mate, hopefully one with some brothers because I plan to have a group to pick from when it’s my turn. I can’t spend a whole summer devoted to mate hunting. But see, Heath can’t do that, either. Not after Daddy died. He’s head of our family now. But Violet’s in the running. She’s better than the other girls. They’re all fake.”
I don’t think she took a breath once during all that.
Her phone pings, and I can hear the familiar voice from the speakers. A Stitch post.
“….so no use crying over spilt honeyed cranberry. Not even if it ruins a gown of gold. Accidents happen…”
Rue gasps.
Is this fucking kid going to follow me all the way to the Lower Side? I’ve got to ditch her. “Don’t you have something to do?”
“Well…I could eat more of those cupcakes with the lavender icing, but Mom said not to. We’ve gotta save face for Violet. She could totally be the Monarch’s next Luxe, so Mom doesn’t want me to ruin her chances. It’s so cool.”
“Other people have Omega daughters,” I mutter.
She makes a soft sound of delight. “Did you hear what the QB said? She just mentioned when Iris accidentally on purpose tripped and spilled her cranberry juice over that bitch .” Rue drops her voice to a whisper on the last word. “ Those girls, Lara and her new friend, were being nasty to Violet. And Vi’s the nicest person ever. Iris says too nice.”
She pauses, and I speed up.
“Wait up!”
I stop, turn, and smile tightly. “Go back, kid. Okay? I’m just here for the summer. If you want an autograph, you can have one, or a photo. But just go back to your stupid picnic and see if you can spot the Monarch.”
She looks at me like I just slapped her.
“I’m fourteen. Not a kid. And I was being nice. You’re rude. I don’t want a photo or your stupid autograph. You know what? Heath might like you, but sometimes he’s got terrible taste. And as for Violet?—”
“I’m not looking for a mate, okay?”
Rue sniffs. “She’s way too good for you.”
And with that, she spins and stalks off, breaking into a run.
With the kid gone, I continue on, ignoring the guilt over being mean to Heath’s little sister. I’ll give her a signed photo. She’ll want one, when she gets over this. I’ll get her tickets to my next movie. Whatever.
But one thing is for certain—I’m not taking part in any of this circus of fucking balls and dances. And I’m not courting or mating with anyone. Especially Violet fucking Gardener.