37. Rich Assholes
Rich Assholes
Liam
Istepped out of the marble shower, leaving Cerise still beneath the water cleaning up after our paint fight. After drying off, I wrapped a towel around my waist, about to get dressed and head downstairs to make us dinner, when a knock sounded on my front door.
“Did I just hear someone knocking?” Cerise called. “Who is it?”
“No idea. I’ll go check.”
Entering my bedroom, I snatched a shirt laying across the back of the chair in the corner. The knocking grew louder, more insistent.
Then, a voice. “Liam! I know you’re home.”
Ellie. What was my sister doing here?
Shirt still in hand, I headed down the hardwood stairs, through my living room, and to the small foyer leading to the front door.
More knocking. “Liam! Open up!”
“I’m coming!” I hollered back, kicking aside a shoe as I unlocked the door and opened it.
My older sister scanned me, eyes widening at the towel and my bare chest. “You’re not even dressed?”
I held up the black shirt. “Uhhh, I was about to put this on…”
“For heaven’s sake, Liam. We’re already late!” She shoved past me, storming into my living room. “And you can’t wear that. Do I have to do everything?”
“Why do you care what I’m wearing? What are you talking about? Slow down.”
She whirled on me. “Slow down? I told you, we’re running late.”
“Late for what?” I said, now irritated that she’d barged in without warning.
“Of course, you’d forget,” she muttered, heading upstairs.
“Where are you going?” I called as I followed her.
“To get you some clothes. We have to hurry.”
I chased after her, trying to stop her from entering my room, but I was too late. She strode straight in and I heard Cerise shriek.
“Shit!” Ellie said, backing away into the hall and closing my bedroom door. “I’m so sorry!” She turned to me. “Liam, you didn’t tell me you had company.”
I tightened the grip on my towel. “You didn’t even give me a chance. Now tell me why you randomly showed up and waltzed in, ruining my perfect night.”
“What’s today’s date?” She eyed me carefully.
“September ninth…I think. Yes. Yes, the ninth.”
She just stared at me, eyebrows raised as if waiting for something to click. Now that I had a moment to think, I took in her appearance. She was dressed in an emerald gown, her brown hair curled, her makeup perfect.
“Why are you dressed up?”
She waited, hands on her hips, tapping her foot. “September ninth…” she emphasized.
I racked my brain for why this date was important, when it hit me. “Shit. Father’s birthday.”
“And not just any birthday. It’s his seventieth.”
“No…that can’t be right. That’s still a couple of years away.”
“No, Liam. It’s today. And you know what that means.”
“The big party.”
“Yep.”
“It’s tonight, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “And Mother expects you to be there. We all have to be there.”
“Even Callahan and Otto?” I asked.
“Yes, our brothers will be there too.”
“Dammit.”
Aside from my sister, I hadn’t seen my family in a couple of years, using ‘work’ excuses to get out of obligations.
There was them. And then there was me—the eccentric professor who couldn’t care less about their artificial lifestyle.
Who would rather collect feathers and go to painting classes and fail at throwing axes than attend lavish parties and feign interest in the latest scandal among the elite.
I released a heavy sigh. “When is the party?”
Ellie looked at her watch. “Twenty minutes. We can make it in time if you hurry.”
Cerise opened the bedroom door, wrapped in a robe. “Did I hear something about a party?”
Ellie turned to her, her green eyes rife with apology. “I’m so sorry for walking in on you. I didn’t know you were here.”
Cerise gave her a small smile. “It’s all right.” She held out her hand. “I don’t think we ever officially met. Cerise Thornheart.”
My sister took her hand. “Ellie Pendragon. I suppose you’re right. We didn’t get to chat during the jungle rescue.”
“So…” Cerise looked between me and my sister.
“Right, yes.” I turned to her. “Tonight is my father’s seventieth birthday party and I’m expected to be there. I sort of forgot about it…”
I could see the wheels turning in Cerise’s expression. The anxiety of last-minute plan changes; hesitance. But then…resolve. “I’ll hurry and get changed.”
“You don’t have to come. You can stay here and relax if you want. My parents are rather difficult.”
“Well it’s a good thing I have an astounding amount of experience with difficult parents. I’ll come.”
My shoulders slumped, surprising me with the relief I felt at her declaration. Having her by my side for the evening would make it much easier to tolerate my parents and brothers, perhaps even slightly enjoyable.
“It’s a fancy party. You don’t have anything to wear, Cerise.”
She smirked. “That’s what you think. Did you forget who I am?”
“Are you saying you have a gown packed in your luggage?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” she replied, using my own line against me. “I always come prepared for the unexpected.”
Cerise sat beside me in the carriage as we headed to my parents’ estate, holding my hand tightly in hers, her thumb brushing the top in soothing circles. I couldn’t keep still, my leg bouncing faster the closer we got.
“When was the last time you saw our parents?” Ellie asked, breaking me out of my anxiety spiral.
“A couple of years…”
She looked at me carefully. “It’ll be fine. Father will be too distracted trying to impress everyone to target you.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” I muttered, running my hand through my hair as Cerise squeezed my other.
The last time I saw my father—the visit that led to my drunken escapade Coen had rescued me from—centered around his demands that it was time to stop fooling around and join the business. I was certain he would corner me and bring it up again tonight.
The carriage pulled to a stop in the circular drive of the estate. The door was opened moments later by one of the footmen. My sister stepped out first, Cerise and I following. Cerise paused, inhaling a shallow breath as she took in the property.
I couldn’t help but stare at her beauty.
Her deep violet gown draped along her curves, a waterfall of delicate tulle embellished with golden beadwork, catching the light as she moved.
A matching sheer caplet draped along her shoulders, accentuating the lines of her neck, her hair pinned in a swooping updo.
“How are you always so stunning, sunshine?” I whispered as I clutched her hand like it was a lifeline and led her to the front door.
She fidgeted with her dress. “I knew your family had money…but this—”
“Is pretentious and unnecessary,” I interrupted as we ascended the stone steps and walked through the open wooden doors.
“Most everyone will be in the back garden,” Ellie said, leading the way.
We passed through the foyer, then the opulent living room full of floral settees and chairs with a roaring marble fireplace on the back wall, and through arched doorways onto the back terrace.
The energy was lively, yet an air of stuffiness hovered around us. The cool breeze of the evening carried music played by a pianist in the corner. Waiters in black tuxedos glided around, trays covered in canapés and coupes of champagne.
Cerise and I both took a glass and I scanned the crowd. Most everyone here knew my father through my family’s business, and nearly all of them were stuck-up pricks.
Ellie touched my arm. “I’m going to go do my duty and mingle. Good luck.”
My sister disappeared and I glanced at Cerise, slipping an arm around her waist. “You’ve been awfully quiet, sunshine. Nervous?”
“Just a little overwhelmed. There are a lot of people that I don’t know.” She paused and took a breath. “But I’m okay. I promise.”
I knocked back my champagne, placing my empty glass on a passing server’s tray and swiping another. “Just drink more…that’ll make it somewhat tolerable.”
She gave me a concerned look, but didn’t say anything.
We meandered through the crowd for a little while. I introduced Cerise to a few attendees here and there. Conversations were stilted, formal, and I already couldn’t wait for this night to be over.
“Liam, honey!” my mother’s voice cut through the noise.
Cerise tensed beside me. I leaned in, whispering in her ear, “My mother’s mostly kind. A little obsessed with her rich friends and social status, but she isn’t mean.”
Cerise relaxed at my statement, my mother stopping before us.
“Mother,” I said, opening my arms to give her a hug.
“It’s so good to see you, Liam.” She pulled back, tut tutting. “You must visit us more, dear. I know you’re busy with all that teaching nonsense”—I tried to hide my flinch—“but we miss you.”
“Oh, you know how the nonsensical teaching profession is. Keeps me busy,” I said, earning a small glare from her. Though she was kind, she didn’t like it when I rocked the boat so to speak. Changing the subject, I said, “I’d like you to meet Cerise.”
My mother clutched Cerise’s hand in between hers, putting her mask back on. “Cerise. What a beautiful name. I am so pleased to make your acquaintance. Liam has never brought a woman home before…you must be something special.”
Cerise smiled warmly at my mother, a hint of a blush on her cheeks. “It’s nice to meet you Mrs. Pendragon.”
My mother waved a hand. “Oh goodness, none of that. You can call me Mary.”
We visited for a while with my mother, talking about nothing important. She peppered us with questions about work, feigning her interest when I could tell she really just desired to gossip with her friends. After a while, she left us to do just that.
“Your mother is sweet,” Cerise said as we weaved our way to a long table set up with even more food.
“She’s caught up in all this.” I gestured around us. “But she means well.” I picked up a plate. “Are you hungry? I was going to make us dinner before my sister so rudely interrupted our night.”
“Actually, yes. I’m starving.”
I began placing a little bit of everything on the plate. Oysters baked with spinach and breadcrumbs; toasted bread with goat cheese and fig jam; little meats cooked in a rich sauce; roasted quail.
After piling the plate as full as possible, I led us to a small table near a row of rose bushes, away from the majority of the crowd.
Cerise took a seat and I set the food before her, trading my empty champagne coupe for a full one as a waiter passed.
“Are you not eating?” Cerise asked.
“Not hungry,” I said, trying to ignore my nerves. We hadn’t seen my father or brothers yet, but we couldn’t avoid them forever.
“Liam,” Cerise admonished. “That’s your third drink. At least put some food in your stomach so the alcohol doesn’t make you sick.” She brushed a strand of hair from my face. “Please.”
“All right.” She pushed her plate toward me and stood. “Wait, Cerise. I got that for you.”
“I appreciate it, but you need it more. Eat. I’ll go get myself a plate. I’ll be right back.”
Her tone left no room for argument so I did as she asked, taking a bite of a fig and keeping an eye on the people mingling. It wasn’t long before a loud, condescending voice cut through the crowd.
Callahan, my eldest brother. Six years my senior, he was just as bad as my father, only caring about reputation and wealth. And was always on the prowl for women. I turned to his voice, only to find him in the middle of a conversation with Cerise. And she looked wholly uncomfortable.
Oh, fuck no.