81
The night drags on after Thorun has left, and I stay seated, catching stray snippets of conversation that make me feel dumber for having heard them.
Many of the women seem to have had too much to drink, as evidenced by Claire deciding to dance on the coffee table and Silke declaring Miranda to be an enviro-terrorist for admitting she couldn’t keep a house plant alive if she tried.
I shake my head as Cherry sways across the room and plops down beside me.
“Cat-ri-ona,” she slurs, taking another gulp of her champagne.
“What?” I sigh. I barely speak to the woman, yet just being around her makes me angry.
“I want that.”
“What?”
“That,” she points to my choker.
“You must be drunk,” I snort.
“Sure,” she shakes her shoulders as though someone walked over her grave and flicks her hair back over her shoulders, “I’ve had a few drinks, but I’ve also had a few more dates with the Viscount than you have, and I think he mistakenly sent those jewels to you.”
I stiffen and look across the room to where Sona stands talking and laughing with Claire.
“I think you’re mistaken,” I murmur. “And if I hear that crap coming out of your mouth again I’ll ensure nothing else comes out of it but your teeth.”
“No one in this house likes you, you know. No one. I could help change that if you give me that choker. I could put in a good word, get others to stop seeing you as a monster,” she shrugs as she looks at me over the top of her glass like she’s just said the most reasonable thing in the world.
“Cherry, let me be clear about something. The only reason you’re still breathing is because others have pissed me off more. If you plan to change that, then keep speaking to me now — it’s your funeral.”
She reaches over, clearly more drunk than I realised, and makes to grab the choker.
Catching her fingers in mine I bend them backwards until she squeaks, and leaning close, whisper to her, “Don’t think you can get your way with me like you do with Vasiliki, you British piece of trash. I will Fuck. You. Up.”
“Ladies.”
I lean back quickly and look up to see the bachelor staring down at us wearing an amused expression.
“About time,” Cherry simpers, rising and falling against him.
He carefully rights her before pushing her gently back down into the seat and holding his hand out to me.
“Cat?”