Chapter 13
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
Violet
I hold up another dress, and Iris snatches it away.
“This is nothing but subjugation.” She throws it in a pile. “Wear the jeans, heels, and the pretty flowing top. It’s a good compromise.”
“I can’t. Mom doesn’t want me in jeans?—”
“The day after the ball should be casual, to show you’re not a painted wonder.” Then Iris pulls a face and sticks a finger in her mouth, mimicking gagging. “A new dress every day is ridiculous.”
Last night, Stephan invaded my dreams, his scent and touch, his kiss… I didn’t want to wake.
“We can go to a seamstress,” I say. “Or I’ll just repeat wear. It’s fine.”
“Nope. You’re the Luxe. They’ll crucify you for wearing something twice. ”
“But you just told me to wear jeans. They’ll crucify me for that, too.”
“Less likely, but never mind. I’ll handle it.” She pulls out more clothes. “We’ll repurpose. I can make you new outfits, from casual to dressy. Mom has gowns I can rework, too.”
“If she lets you?—”
“She will.” Iris pulls out a simple loose dress, throws me a pair of black leggings and a black thin cardigan. “Wear these with these shoes.” She hands me a pair of slightly heeled black sandals before pointing to my bathroom. “Go. Put it on.”
Iris knows more about fashion than I do, so I listen and head to change. When I’m done, I stare in the mirror. With the cardigan, the top has shape and the heels and leggings give it an edge. It’s like a new outfit.
I open the door. “What do you think?”
“Fab,” Iris says. Then she gathers the mound of clothes.
“For real?” I say. “And are you sure you can redo all those clothes? It’s a lot.”
“I’m the best with needle and thread in this house. Just call me your fairy god-sister. But I’m also expecting my bathroom cleaned for a month.”
I gasp. “A month ?”
“Hey, we had to let a lot of help go. And I refuse to scrub toilets.” Iris cackles out a laugh. “So, do you want new clothes or not?”
I sigh. “Fine, deal.”
“Great.” With a wide grin, she pushes out of my room just as Rue bounds in, her phone held high .
“O.M.G., Vi! You’re famous. Are you going to mate with him? I asked him that, but he was mean to me.”
My head spins. “Stephan?”
“Yeah.” She rolls her eyes and flops on my bed, crossing her legs as she starts to scroll. “But he probably thought I was a fan. Mom said Heath’s received a flurry of invites from Alphas wanting to take you out on a date!”
More Alphas?
I should be thrilled. This is what I wanted, after all, to have my pick for my mate. But this feels like it is much too soon.
And Stephan…
Spots of color burst in front of my eyes, and I sit, limbs suddenly too heavy and too weak to support me. My chest tightens.
“Has anyone come to visit today?” I ask, voice small.
“Not yet!” Rue almost squeals. “But soon, you’re going to have men kick down our door just to see you. How exciting!”
I can’t breathe; my throat’s closing.
Calm down.
Think oak.
Rich, earthy, slightly sweet.
Yes…
The stress eases a little, and I breathe in.
“QB posted about you and Asher. All of Stitch won’t stop talking about you two. Want to see?” Rue thrusts the phone to my face.
I lean back a little to read the small print under the Queen Bee’s symbol of a bee with a crown. “Oh, God.” And it’s double oh god when I see it. “She called my dress vintage…”
“That’s just the QB keeping it real. The dress was retro, but you sizzled! Asher couldn’t take his eyes off you. Did you notice?”
“I-I didn’t.” And that spotlight’s hot, even in my room. “But his name’s really Stephan.”
“I like Asher better. More… flashy. But Trixi is my all-time favorite star. I wish the Monarch would let pop concerts play here, or Mom would let me go to the mainland. She sells out every show, but maybe Asher can get me tickets. When you mate him…”
Rue keeps rattling on, but I tune her out.
A line of Alphas interested in me, wanting to take me out? I shudder.
But it’s the only way I’m going to be able to find someone nice, someone with money who can help boost the family. Getting mated during my first Season would be the best-case scenario—most girls take three. It would mean clearer, better paths for my sisters, too.
I have to think about them first.
I can’t be too picky.
Rue’s stopped talking, and she poses and takes a selfie.
“Are you coming for the walk?” I ask.
Nodding, Rue jumps up. “You bet. Being seen after the ball’s sooo important. Especially for the Luxe.”
“This is…” Horrible. “A lot.”
“No, it isn’t. You’ve just got to play it cool. Not seem desperate. Don’t jump at the first date invitation you get. Maybe wait until the next event. Oh, and you can’t be all over Asher?— ”
“Stephan.”
“—there. Mix it up, mingle. And then you can start rejecting and accepting. And I can help! It’s gonna be fun. Come on, Vi! We need to go.” Rue stops, draws a breath, and then plunges back in. “We’ll bring Mari, she’s a natural at drawing attention while seeming not to be doing that. You’re perfect at making everyone at ease. And I’ll do the talking. It’s the perfect team. Let’s go!”
It’s a nice day, the perfect amount of warmth and breeze. Mari wants to go to the lake and draw. Rue wants to window shop, so we do both.
Mid-morning is spent in and out of shops, from the latest teen designer shop full of rip-offs, to an old-school arcade hall we have to drag Rue out of.
But what we don’t do is join the town square crowd that’s gathered to watch an oncoming parade. The buildings are old and beautiful, with residences above them and bars, restaurants, and exclusive shops on the ground level. We could have blended in if we wanted. Instead, we head out to the parks.
Mari takes us to an empty section of beach that’s cool and shaded and partly hidden under the boardwalk.
As we settle, we eat lunch—some sandwiches Rue made—and sink our toes into the wet sand. She doesn’t stop her bouncy conversation, even when Mari starts to draw in her sketchbook. Finally, Rue’s so engrossed in some show she’s watching on her phone that she stops talking.
I look over at Mari. There really isn’t anyone here. It isn’t a spot to be admired and seen in, and I wish the whole Season was a metaphor for this spot. But it’s not. The Season is the town square parade on steroids.
“Hey, I’m going to stretch my legs, go up to the boardwalk.”
“Go. I’ll join you in a bit. I want to get this seagull.” She nods at the bird that’s just sitting in the sand, feet tucked in and eyes closed.
I like the darker quiet of the ocean and the worn wood of the boardwalk, but my mind is on one thing and I see it in the distance.
The boathouse.
It’s stupid to think Stephan would be there again, at this exact moment. But the possibility of seeing him again has me drifting toward it.
Someone’s there, and my heart starts to go wild.
Oak is redolent on the breeze.
It’s him.
I don’t think; I just walk towards him. “Stephan?”
He turns, and my knees nearly buckle. The scruff’s still there, and he looks so good. Handsome in this light. Better than the pictures I looked at last night when I’d searched him on my phone. He hadn’t been lying about his filmography. Or about his reputation as a bit of a wild card in Emporia. But those things made him feel more like a dream. Here, he looks real. Tangible.
I smile, but he doesn’t return it. He looks up and down the boardwalk promenade and then grabs me, hauling me into the shadows of the boathouse.
“What are you doing!” I hiss. My head spins. All I can smell is him, and his heat becomes a part of me .
“Shhh!”
He’s close, way too close, and everything throbs in time with my heart.
“We’re everywhere on social media.” I breathe the words. “If we’re seen in here alone?—”
“I know.” His gaze drops to my hair ribbon still wrapped around my wrist since last night, and a small smile lifts his lips. “I wasn’t supposed to be part of the Season, but the fucking Monarch wants to torture me.”
I swallow. I want to touch him. “You could leave.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“It’s complicated. I’m here for the summer and apparently now on the fucking market.”
“It can’t be that bad. You could find a mate…”
He laughs softly and misery streaks through me. “Not my style. I like my independence.”
My lungs twist. “Oh…”
Stephan captures my chin with his fingers as he tips my face to his. “You sound disappointed, Princess.”
Oh god, I start melting, and thinking is beyond difficult.
“I’m not,” I say, trying to seem aloof. I shake off his hold on my face. “I have a line of Alphas interested in me now. All because of the ball.”
His eyebrows rise. “Oh really?”
“You said it yourself, you’re famous, and that elevates me,” I say. “Because of our dance, I now have my pick of all of Sabine.”
I’m exaggerating, but his comment about not wanting a mate wounded me and I’m not sure why. Maybe because all these secret touches and that kiss… It means it meant nothing.
“The problem for you is that the girls will hate me and want you more. You won’t be able to escape the swarms of Omegas. Not to mention that if the Monarch has her way, which she almost always does, you’ll be mated by the end of the summer, whether you like it or not.”
His expression falls. He knows I’m right.
Silence stretches between us, and I debate about leaving. I’ve already been gone too long—Mari and Rue will realize I’m not on the boardwalk anymore and come looking.
“We could help each other,” he says suddenly. “Team up in a way.”
I look at him. “Team up? How?”
“I don’t want a mate—that’s obvious—and the only way for it to stay that way is for me to pretend to pursue you. Like you are the only one I have eyes for. I’ll be smitten. Lovestruck. And if my heart is set on you, the other Omegas will step off.”
“An act…”
He nods. “It’ll make you desirable to every one of Sabine’s Alphas. Even the most untouchable ones,” he says.
“There’s no way that’s going to work,” I reply.
“Men always want what they can’t have. And when there’s another powerful Alpha interested, it sparks competition. Believe me.” There’s a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Then at the end of the Season, you and I part ways—me heartbroken, blissfully single, and ready to return to Emporia, and you in the arms of your perfect mate. I get to trick the Monarch into thinking she’s won, and we both get exactly what we want. It’s perfect.”
I frown. “It sounds too risky.”
He searches my face. My heart flips and spins. “You need buzz. The title of Luxe can only do so much, so we create drama. Bend the rumors in our favor. We give Stitchers like the Queen Bee what they want.”
“You’re confident this will work?”
“Acting to be in love? Easy. It’s sort of my specialty.”
It sure is. And I had almost fallen for his charms, but it’s clear now Stephan Ashford and Asher St. James are just two sides of the same coin.
Anger stirs.
How many other girls has he led on?
I’m an idiot.
But his proposal has some merit. His acting skills fooled me into thinking he was interested in me, so I have no doubt he could convince others.
Stephan steps closer to me, his earthy oak scent engulfing me and making my head whirl. “So, Princess. What do you say? Do we have a deal?”
This could lift me, help me pick the best Alpha for me and my family. And then, at the end of the Season, I’ll never have to see him and his stupid handsome face ever again. I’ll be happy, mated, and I’ll make sure to never watch an Asher St. James movie for as long as I live.
“Deal,” I say.