Chapter 26 #2
“How could you think that?” he rebuts. “I don’t pity you in the least. I’m inviting you because I happen to have two tickets that will go unused if you don’t accompany me. I bought them for my mother, but work came up, and she can’t go.”
“Why take me?” she asks. “You know everyone. I’m sure you can manage to find some rich man to schmooze.”
“True, but that’s not the company I feel like sharing tonight. I’d rather take you, a beautiful, intelligent girl from Princeton.”
Rose peruses Connor with beady eyes. “And this isn’t a pity invite?”
“I already said it wasn’t. Maybe you should get your hearing looked at. I wouldn’t want to beat you unfairly in the next Bowl tournament.”
She rolls her eyes. “Please, you wouldn’t be able to beat Princeton even with a cheat sheet.”
“Says the girl who got distracted by someone’s nasal sensitivities.”
“You’re so weird,” she says. Her arm drops off her hip and her stance finally loosens. Yes! He takes one more step, officially inches from her, the closest I’ve seen her to a man—or child—in a long, long time.
Lo whispers to me, “Are we in an alternate universe?”
I nod. “Yep, we’ve definitely left Earth 616.” And I love it.
“So here I am,” Connor continues, “about to waste front row seats?—”
“Wait, you can’t see anything in the first row. The stage blocks your view. Everyone knows that.”
“Did I say first row? I don’t think I did.” He tilts his head. “You really need to get those ears checked, Miss Calloway.” Oh, that was sexy. I will be the first to admit that. He takes out his wallet and hands her the tickets, which I presume are labeled for the third or fourth row, not the first.
Rose barely glances at them since Connor has infiltrated her safe space. She breathes all heavily and her cheeks start to flush. Aw, my sister is actually affected by the guy. It’s a once in a lifetime happening.
She hands one ticket back to him. “Pick me up at seven. Don’t be late.”
“I never am.”
Rose rolls her eyes and then turns to me. “I have to make a stop at Poppy’s house, but I wanted to see how you’re doing.”
“Fine,” I tell her. “I haven’t gotten my econ test back, so I’m not sure how well I’m doing in class yet.”
She sips her coffee and sets it on the table. “With my help, you’ll do better on the next one.”
“I’m still her tutor,” Connor says.
“No you’re not,” Rose tells him. “I have familial rights to this one.” She points at Lo. “You can take that rodent.”
Lo flips her off.
“Very mature,” she says flatly and glances at her pearl-colored watch.
“I need to go. I’ll tell Mom and Dad you miss them, but it’d be better if you attended next Sunday’s luncheon.
They’re starting to ask questions that I can’t answer.
” She kisses my cheek and surprisingly meets Lo’s gaze.
“You too, be there.” With that, she struts out in a dignified, Rose manner.
Gotta love her.
“You’re crazy,” Lo tells Connor. “I thought you were just a little insane for wanting to hang out with Lily and me, but now, you’re certifiable.”
The buzzer rings.
The silence afterwards sits heavy and unbearable. If Rose left, only one other person could be waiting in the lobby.
“Did she forget something here?” Connor asks.
Doubtful. I go to the door and buzz in Ryke.
I also unlock the door and send him a quick message to just walk in.
When I plop back beside Lo, something separates us.
Unidentifiable and intangible. Lo senses my openness towards the situation, towards accepting Ryke and the article.
For the first time, we stand on two different pages .
I know letting Ryke into our lives will complicate things. It’ll be harder for me to disappear without questions. It’ll be harder for Lo to drink without being chastised like a child. But it’s too late to go back now, and I wouldn’t want to.
“Who is it?” Connor asks.
“Ryke.” I explain the article with the fewest details, and when the door clicks open, I shut up about it.
Ryke enters, eyes pinging to each of us.
He has sealed the comics in a Ziploc bag to avoid rain splatter, but he needed protection from the thunderstorm.
He drips on the carpet like a wet dog, his white shirt glued to the ridges in his chest. His jeans stick to his thighs, and he runs a hand through his soaked hair, pushing back the brown strands.
“Can I use your dryer?” he asks, already pulling off his shirt.
Oh my God. I look away, and Lo closes the Cosmo magazine and tosses it at my face so I’ll stop gawking. He stands. “I’ll show you to the machine.”
As Lo passes to the laundry room, Ryke lifts his eyebrows at me like see, he was nice, making progress. Yeah, I’m not so optimistic. Ryke nods to Connor. “How’s it going?”
“It’s going,” he says.
At this, Ryke follows Lo out of view.
Connor scrolls on his iPhone, my mind drifting to what happened with my sister. “About Rose…”
“Yes?”
“I like you, Connor. I do, but I also know you’re a social climber. I may look small and not put up much of a fight when it comes to words, but I’d find a way to hurt you if you hurt her. She should mean more to a guy than a paycheck and a last name.”
Connor pockets his cell. “Lily,” he says.
“If I wanted to date for a last name, I’d have a girl on my arm every single day.
I would never be single.” He leans forward.
“I promise you, that my intentions are pure. And I think it’s sweet you’re looking out for Rose, but she’s more than capable of taking care of herself, which is one of the many reasons why I want to pursue her. ”
“What’s another reason?” I test him.
He smiles. “I won’t have to taxingly explain to her menu items in a real French restaurant.” He knows she’s fluent? “I won’t have to explain financial statements or dividends. I’ll be able to discuss anything and everything in the world, and she’ll have an answer.”
“What about your philosophy on wealthy girls? Aren’t we all the same? We want to find some Ivy League guy and do nothing with our lives?”
Connor’s lip twitches, suppressing a smile. “I also said something about probably marrying that type.”
I don’t see where he’s headed with this. “Rose is not that kind of girl. She’s talented and driven and determined?—”
“I said I would probably marry the type, not that I wanted to.”
Oh. I realize that Connor Cobalt will ace any test I give him—the downside to quizzing an honor student.
Ryke and Lo return, and surprisingly, one of Lo’s black T-shirts fits Ryke perfectly.
And he wears a pair of Lo’s jeans, the thighs a little tight but other than that, they fit as well.
Neither guy says a word, the tension eking from their stiff postures.
Lo settles back beside me while Connor offers up his chair to Ryke.
Ryke nods in thanks and takes a seat. Connor drags the red recliner closer to our little group, and the rumble of the dryer fills the short-lived void.
Connor turns his attention on Ryke and says, “So you’re writing an article about children of tycoons. I assume you forgot to ask me.”
Ryke teeters back on two legs of his chair. “Must have slipped my mind.” He flashes a dry smile, avoiding my gaze.
“Then I accept.”
Ryke’s eyebrows shoot up. “You accept? ”
Lo interjects, “That sounds perfect. You should just write about Connor. He’s a willing participant, and your story will have a happy ending. Everyone wins.” He squeezes my shoulder, and I stiffen, not sure how Ryke’s going to cover this one.
“No, I don’t like it.” That’s his lie? I roll my eyes. I shouldn’t have expected something better.
Lo rubs his lips. “Then you’re not going to follow Connor too?”
Ryke briefly looks at Connor who sits with his ankle on his knee, so preppy that you could snap a picture and put him in a J.Crew catalogue. “No offense, Connor, but I’d rather not hang around ass-kissers all fucking day. If you’re with Lo and Lily, I’ll write about you. That’s all I have.”
“I already accepted,” Connor tells him.
Lo hasn’t. He laces his fingers in mine. “Are you going to ask me questions?”
“Do you have something against them?” Ryke wonders. “Question-phobic?”
Lo glares. “I just don’t have a warm spot in my heart for people who pry.”
“Yeah? Well that kind of goes against my profession.” He points to his chest. “Journalism major. Asking uncomfortable questions is my forte.” I can believe that.
Lo glowers at the ceiling. “Then I have full discretion to ask you anything personal. How’s that for a stipulation?”
“Sounds fair.”
Lo doesn’t need to tell me that he hates the situation.
His icy posture says it all. I understand his hesitation.
There’s an underlying judgment that comes with surrounding ourselves with other people.
We’ve been cut off from snide glances and hateful words like “slut, drunkard, loser” for so long that he fears going back to that place.
The one where his father smacks the back of his head, wondering why his kid just fucked up by staying out all night drinking.
The one where a prep school girl slanders me as diseased, dumb and dimwitted .
I can’t gauge my strength. I just hope I’m resilient enough to stand against ridicule in order to help Lo.
“It’ll only be for a couple of months,” I tell Lo. “The semester is almost over.”
“It’s fine.” He finishes off his glass of whiskey and stands to go make another.
Ryke gives me a hard look that I can’t respond to since Connor sits one chair over. At least Connor busily texts on his phone. Suddenly, he stands, slipping his cell in his coat pocket. “I’ll see you guys later.”
“Where are you going?” Lo asks from the kitchen.
“I have to figure out what I’m going to wear tonight.”
“Are you serious?” Lo snaps. “You’re going on a date with the devil. All you need is some pepper spray and a fire extinguisher.”
Ryke nods to me. “Who’s he talking about?”
“My sister, Rose.”
“Huh.” He watches Connor go to the foyer.