CHAPTER FIVE
Assigned seating. I curse you.
Fifty tables fill the grand ballroom, and my mother wedged us near the front under the brightest lamp.
Not only do we have to endure our dates, but we have to do so under the scalding heat of a spotlight.
While we wait for the guys to find us, I play with the glittery napkin ring on my plate and try not to anxiously scratch my arms.
My mother’s party planner had too much fun with the black and gold decorations.
A black sparkler centerpiece fits in the center of every gold clothed table.
Photos of gold Fizz cans with black carbonation bubbles are framed along the walls.
Diet Fizz is the reverse color scheme with black cans and gold bubbles.
At least Fizzle’s logo isn’t lime green and puke pink—two colors that would induce an instant migraine. Still, you think she could have branched out a little bit. Maybe added a splash of blue or red. But no, those are Coca-Cola and Pepsi’s colors. No Fizzle-loving person would dare touch them.
I’m going stir-crazy waiting for our dates, but at least Rose and Daisy sit next to me, not allowing any room for a guy to settle near me.
I also choose not to glance around for them like Rose, who scans the floor trying to speculate who the hell our mother invited to be our arm candy.
Anyway, too many people mill about the ballroom for me to play that guessing game.
They congregate by the open bar or eat fancy hors d'oeuvres as servers pass.
I feel like I’m at a million-dollar wedding reception.
Daisy leans back on the legs of her chair and folds her cloth napkin into a flower, clearly bored.
“How convenient that Maria suddenly came down with a stomach bug.” Poppy never even made it out of the limo.
The nanny called her as soon as Maria threw up, and she turned around to take her to the doctor.
“I need to have a baby so I can use it as a way to bail.”
Rose clenches a champagne glass firmly in her hand. Her eyes shoot to our youngest sister. “Let’s not talk about children.”
“Yeah,” I say with a small smile. “The word baby gives Rose hives.”
Rose sips her drink, not disagreeing.
And that’s when I feel a hand plant on my shoulder. And by the force and the size, I know it’s male .
“Lily Calloway,” he says with added pleasure. I know that voice. I just can’t place it. I rarely can.
I slowly crane my neck over my shoulder, and my eyes widen in horror. I recognize the All-American build, blue eyes, and swept back brown-blond hair. Even outside of prep school, he looks like a star quarterback—even if his sport of choice was lacrosse.
I didn’t sleep with Aaron Wells. I didn’t touch a hair on his head, and I never would. Because this douchebag tried to stuff Lo into a locker in ninth grade. Lo spun out of his grasp and sprinted down the hall, away from Aaron and a pack of restless bullies. Aaron wasn’t fast enough to catch him.
Lo fights indirectly with people. So I knew he wouldn’t retaliate with a baseball bat, swinging at Aaron’s head in angry retribution.
There are some things that hurt worse than a punch.
I think his father taught him that. Lo paid a guy to break into the school and alter Aaron’s exam grades, and his GPA fell.
For guys like Aaron, reputation is everything and being on the bottom of the graduating class can ruin status.
He must have realized Lo was the cause, so one day after school Aaron tried to confront him with fists bared.
He clocked him. Lo escaped. As he always did.
Four years passed and their feud escalated.
I became a target.
Aaron would try to trap me in the bathrooms, and I vehemently dodged him.
I stayed glued to Lo’s side during every hour of the day.
In those couple months, I remember being really scared to go to school.
I didn’t know what Aaron wanted to do to me, but since their rivalry already became physical, I didn’t necessarily want to find out.
I remember skipping often and fearing moments in between class.
I’d jump even when it was just Lo who approached, and when he could tell I was becoming psychologically fucked from Aaron’s threats, he decided to do something more drastic to protect me.
He threatened Aaron’s future. Not just a little drop in his GPA. He would contact the colleges that planned to scout Aaron and pay them off so they’d reject him on the spot.
And it happened. Aaron’s dream university denied his application because Lo reached them first. And with the Hale name and a hefty donation, they couldn’t refuse Lo’s offer.
So Aaron shut up. He got accepted to his safety school, and he left us alone.
Until now.
I don’t greet him. I turn back to give him the biggest cold shoulder. I don’t care if I’m rude. Because if my suspicions are correct, he’s only here to make my life hell.
“Not going to say hi?” Aaron wonders. I watch him circle the table and sit across from me. He actually takes the centerpiece and puts it on the floor so I have a direct view of his smarmy face.
I hear Rose beside me. “How old are you?”
I glance at her and nearly laugh at her date. He’s a twig, and his suit is two sizes too big.
“Nineteen,” he tells her, fixing his bowtie, but he makes it even more lopsided.
Rose raises her glass with a bitter smile. “Wonderful.” My mother set her up with a guy three years younger than her.
He takes the open seat to her left. “My father is your father’s lawyer.” He scratches the back of his longish brown hair, his skin golden tan. “I’m Matthew Collins.”
“Nice to meet you, Matthew,” Rose says, motioning for the server to bring her another glass of champagne .
Daisy’s date sits to her right. I don’t catch his name, but he’s too distracted by his phone to even acknowledge my sister. She doesn’t look like she cares either, refolding her napkin into a rose.
The food starts parading around the room, sea bass and winter squash making rounds on each circular table.
My appetite is gone. Especially as Aaron leans his forearms on the table, practically hunched over to force my attention to him.
“What have you been up to, Lily?”
I shrug and then spit out, “Why would you want to even come here?” It’s almost been three whole years since I’ve seen him. Why now?
“I heard your boy was out of town. I thought I’d check up on you, make sure you were safe and doing okay.”
I glare. “I’m fine.”
He nods, his eyes skimming the length of me. Thank God, my body stops at the edge of the table.
“Did my mother really call you?” I ask tensely.
“She called my friend first. She seemed a little desperate to get you hooked up, and I told her I was available.” He flashes an ugly smile. “I have nothing better to do.” And so the truth comes out.
“That’s why you’re here? You’re bored?”
He shrugs. “Now that I’m almost graduated, Loren has nothing on me. And I think me and you—we have unfinished business.”
I go cold and look to Rose for backup, but she’s in a heated discussion with her younger date. Well…she seems to be educating him about the stock market, as though he said something inane and she has to correct him.
Daisy is watching me carefully, but I don’t have the heart to explain my history to her. Not now anyway. Plates of sea bass slide onto our placemats, and I stiffly pick up my fork. I can’t eat, not until I let some words loose.
“I’m not having sex with you,” I immediately blurt .
His eyebrow quirks and I realize that might not have been the “unfinished business” he had in mind.
And then he says, “We’ll see.” Okay, maybe it was.
Or maybe he’s just planning on cornering me, putting me in some provocative situation and then snapping a few pictures, taking a video, and then sending them to Lo.
Oh God.
Daisy butts in. “Hey, back off. She has a boyfriend.”
Aaron snorts and says to Daisy, “Do I look like I give a shit?”
“I do,” a new voice enters. And this time, I internally cheer at the sound of Ryke’s deep, threatening tone.
He slides into the seat between Daisy’s date and Aaron, closing the circle.
He wears a fitted charcoal suit with a skinny black tie.
His brown hair is styled, but he’s not clean-shaven.
How did he get invited to a Fizzle event?
Better yet, why would he accept it and come here?
I don’t really care. I’m just glad he is.
“Who the fuck are you?” Aaron spits.
Ryke motions to a server and points to his placemat, silently asking for food. Then he faces Aaron with narrowed eyes. If Lo was here, I think he’d appreciate the backup. We’ve never had it before, and I have to say, it’s kind of nice.
“Loren Hale’s brother,” Ryke tells him.
Aaron chokes on a laugh. “Bullshit. Lo’s an only child.”
“Then don’t believe me. I don’t really fucking care. But you start messing with his girlfriend, and then I will care.” A server places his plate in front of him, and Ryke digs into the mashed potatoes, not giving Aaron any more attention.
Aaron looks back to me, and his eyebrows jump up, but he mouths, later. No, I don’t like later. He even winks .
Shivers run down my arms.
Daisy squints at Ryke. “Why are you here?” she asks over her oblivious date, still texting. “Did my mom call you?”
Ryke cuts into his fish. “Nope. My father did. ”
I frown. “What?” That makes no sense. Jonathan Hale basically blamed Ryke for Lo’s decision to go to rehab, leaving him with an empty house. Why would he want to invite him?
“Yep,” Ryke says. “He called me up, spewing some shit about how we should put the past behind us. But he’s an awful fucking liar.” He swigs his water. “He wants information about Lo, but like hell I’m giving it to him.”
I try not to acknowledge Aaron, but I don’t like the way he’s listening so intently, digesting our families’ secrets and filing them for later. I sip my own water to clear my throat. “So why come?”