Chapter 16
“What are we looking at?” Anthony had one arm crossed over his chest and a hand rubbing the side of his face. Hana stood beside him, trying her best to maintain a smile.
I moved in front of them, briefly blocking the view of the rusty, rundown warehouse we’d walked twenty minutes to see.
The smell of fish hung heavily in the air.
Seagulls continued doing their business on the white-stained sidewalk.
Old dinghies and center console boats swayed up and down on the dock behind us.
“I know it’s not what we envisioned–” I started.
“It’s not what you sold us.” Anthony shook his head, gesturing to the building as if it were a bag of trash someone had forgotten to take to the curb. “Not even close.”
“Hey.” Hana raised her brow at him. “Let’s hear her out.”
She didn’t look hopeful, but I appreciated her attempt.
“I sold you a high-class ball.” I closed my eyes for a second and nodded. “But I swear, this is going to be better.”
It took only a few meetings with my board for us to accept the impossibility of booking a grand ballroom.
The quotes I’d gotten over the summer had risen nearly fifty percent.
I thought we would have time to book something four months out because Westbrooke’s surrounding area wasn’t exactly known for hosting expensive events. I was wrong.
“Most students can’t afford a gown or know where to rent a tux,” I continued. “A strict dress code will have people second-guessing when buying tickets.”
“That was your idea, though,” Anthony reminded me. “I thought you were going to figure it out.”
“I did, and I think a masquerade party will be better. Costumes and hidden identities. Not some stuffy hotel glitz and glam. Something that feels like an escape. No gown or tux required. Just a mask.”
Anthony sighed and glanced at Hana to see if she was buying it. From the way she twisted her mouth to the side, it seemed negative.
“We’re going to be coming fresh off of Halloween,” I said quickly. “I’m still going to market it as an elegant event. But also something far more relaxed. Think a hole-in-the-wall speakeasy with vampires. The theme’s immortal and classic.”
“Vampires are always in,” Hana said with a shrug.
“That’s debatable,” Anthony said.
I took a breath and brought out the big guns. “This is a great deal, Anthony. No labor on your part. One fundraiser in which I need a couple of your members to attend–and you have hundreds, so that should be cake, right?”
Hana laughed when Anthony ruefully nodded.
“You’re getting marketing, networking opportunities, and a chance for free tickets to the event of the year.”
He whistled, but there was a smile growing on his face. “Event of the year. You’re already claiming it, huh?”
“I don’t sit around hoping success falls into my lap. When I need to get something done, I get it done,” I said. “So? Are you a yes yet? I have the president of the Historical Society in my inbox. He’s offering a full account takeover for a week and covering the drink bill.”
Anthony’s jaw ticked. The president of the Historical Society, Luther, was his ex.
Once a power couple, now rivals who continued to step on one another’s toes every chance they got.
Luther had caught me in the student center a couple of days ago after he’d caught wind of my fragile alliance with BSU.
I knew I was just a tool to step on his ex’s toes, but I didn’t underestimate the power of revenge.
“And Hana’s doing decor,” I added. “So, your involvement is getting more and more questionable. I mean, what are you really offering?”
I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling the cool breeze of the high ground. Anthony frowned at Hana. She responded with a shy shrug.
“It felt right,” she defended. “We’ve got tons left over from last year’s charity dinner.”
“I offer reach,” Anthony said simply, but instead of pressing for more details, he held out his hand. “Without it, you’ll be lucky to get a handful of people through the door.”
I wanted to argue, but he was right. And though I could be a sore loser, I was smart enough to only whine about things behind closed doors. I accepted his handshake.
“Looking forward to doing business with you,” I said with a smile.
With less than seventy-two hours until David had dinner with my family and the looming deadline of a million and one things on the masquerade party checklist, my stomach remained trapped in a cycle of constant backflips.
Only time would help the masquerade anxiety.
But I could do something about my racing heart when it came to preparing David.
I spent most of Friday texting him things like:
Don’t bring up the Marvel Cinematic Universe. It’ll start an argument about capitalism.
Try not to get up too much during dinner. One bathroom break is usually the limit; otherwise, they might think you’re hiding something…
One of my sisters dated a guy who used to steal. My brother caught him trying to take my grandma’s china, between turns of Monopoly.
Speaking of Monopoly! Just in case they ask you to play the Heads Up game, you need to research musicians. It’ll particularly impress them if you can name people from the eighties.
He didn’t respond all day. I couldn’t even get a measly reaction. A simple emoji would’ve been nice. So, when I texted my final reminder that I’d be seeing him tonight at the field day thing Hart invited me to, I was shocked to receive a reply:
Just seeing this now, I couldn’t have my phone on. Today’s been big for me. Will read all your previous messages later.
See you tonight.
Today was big for him? Talk about an impressive adjective. Big. The word simple, yet vulnerable, for a guy like him.
“When a stoic texts you their day’s been big, what do you think?
” I asked Haven. I was doing the most, but it always made everything a little more fun that way.
I glanced at her through our bathroom mirror.
She was kind enough to help with my wash day, putting my hair into mini twists to tide me over until my next appointment.
“That their day was big.” She shrugged, too disinterested to delve into a conspiracy with me. “What did he do this time?”
“Nothing. After nearly twenty-four hours of ignoring me, he said he’ll see me tonight.”
“Do you want to stage a fight?” she asked. “I’m still down to be your fake rebound girlfriend after your fake last-minute boyfriend.”
I took a breath, trying to pretend to be put out by this whole endeavor.
But the memory of David’s relaxed smile while we were in his apartment planted a seed of endearment in my chest. I’d grown dangerously fond of the idea of having him by my side for dinner.
If not for anything but the chance to give me an entertaining sparring partner.
“Let’s leave that option open.” I reached for a hairband to tie the twists up, but Haven placed her hand over mine, stopping me.
“You have some serious breakage.” She gently pressed two fingers on the crown of my head. “Right here. I know they’re your signature, but you'd better cool it on the high ponytails.”
I smiled, doing my best to keep my embarrassment to a minimum. I hadn’t checked the spot in weeks. In fact, I actively ignored it.
I’d shoved David’s observation that I had OCD into a corner along with the picking. I’d happily keep it there if this weren’t the second time someone had brought it up.
Two people knew about the spot. One was a guy who often thought of ways to ruin me mentally.
And the other, my best friend, who didn’t yet sense the red flag, but once she did, would surely implement a six-part recovery plan.
I didn’t have time to war with the two greatest fighters I knew, so I decided I was quitting cold turkey.
“Are you driving, or should we take the bus?” I slipped on an oversized jean jacket that Haven was letting me borrow.
It was a little too stiff for my liking, but the casualness was a necessity since I was trying to impress Hart.
I wanted to show him another side of me that didn’t involve academia, because he was a cute guy with a romantic interest in me.
And I could work with that. I wanted to work with that.
I’d love to break out of the monotony of university life and have something else to think about for once.
“Driving,” she said. “I need to see if the battery’s holding up. The best place to break down is on campus.”
I nodded in agreement. It didn’t take her more than a few minutes to tuck her hair into a headscarf and dab a bit of pink blush on her cheeks.
By the time we got to the location Hart had sent me, most people had arrived. The soccer fields were muddy from the earlier evening rain. No one seemed to care as they set up their lawn chairs and coolers. There were hordes of gaming supplies, things like tug-of-war and ring toss.
“It’s actually a field day.” I crossed my arms over my chest, examining the set-up.
“What were you expecting?” Haven tugged a lawn chair out of her trunk, along with her own mini cooler and a baseball cap.
“For it to be a metaphor. An excuse to drink and aimlessly kick a ball around before campus security told us to leave.” I gestured to the cap. “How are you going to get that over your scarf?”
Haven undid the back clasp and hooked it on her shoulder strap. “Go team.”
I laughed. “Why?”
“I can have school spirit, can’t I?”
My shoulders sagged when I realized what that meant. “You’re not playing any of the games?”
She gave me a smile and dragged her chair behind her toward the field.
I hurried after her, giving up on finding a step to take that didn’t result in a muddy sole. “Then you didn’t have to come just because of me.”
Haven laughed and whipped her chair open. “How presumptuous. I may or may not be interested in socializing.”
“You want to socialize with football players?”
“They’re very close to the girls on the softball team.” She flipped open her fan with dramatic flair.