He’s the only person in my family that I actually like. He’s not quite a black sheep, not like I am at least, but he doesn’t buy into their ultra rich and conservative attitude. He likes to laugh and have fun and enjoy life much more than my very stuck-up and conservative father and mother do.
“Who was he, anyway?” Michael asks.
“I couldn’t see,” I admit.
“I didn’t catch it, either,” my mother says. “Hold on, let me find Belinda. She’ll know. Maybe we can somehow fix this.” My mother storms off, leaving me with my brothers. My father is somewhere in the dining hall, no doubt shaking hands and making business connections.
Michael frowns at me for a moment. “You should stand up straight,” he says, before turning away and looking at his phone.
I sigh and Peter makes a face, mocking our older brother. I can’t help but laugh.
“You did good up there,” he says.
“Really?” I ask him. “I felt like I was going to puke.”
He shakes his head. “Seriously. The other girls all looked like frightened deer. You just looked like a nervous deer.”
“Perfect. That’s what I was going for.”
“Come on,” Peter says. “Let’s catch a glimpse of your suitor.”
I follow him around the corner, leaving Michael to himself. We step through a door and head into the main ballroom. It’s crowded as servers carry dinner plates to each guest. There’s probably half the net worth of America in this room right now, which strikes me as absurd and silly. It’s a bunch of white, old, privileged men, hoarding their money, and only giving some to charity in exchange for buying a young woman’s attention for a night. It’s crass and lewd and I hate it all over again.
Peter grabs a drink off a passing tray and winks at me. We walk along the edge of the room, looking at the guests.
“There’s your boyfriend,” Peter says, nodding. I follow his gaze and spot Milo chatting with a group of men.
“Come on,” I say, hurrying away.
Peter laughs. “Don’t want to see him?”
“I’m afraid he’ll propose.”
“I wouldn’t blame him. Poor guy. Looked like he might puke when he lost.”
I can’t help but smile at that. “There’s mom,” I say, pointing. She’s walking quickly toward the back of the ballroom, heading right toward Belinda Stitcher, the woman who headed up this whole thing.
Belinda is standing with a man that I’ve never seen before. He’s wearing a tuxedo, like everyone else in this place, so he must belong here. But he’s younger than most of the men, maybe in his late thirties at most.
And he’s handsome, incredibly handsome. He has striking blue eyes and close-cropped brown hair, a bit longer on top, combed back. His jaw is square and there’s a bit of stubble on his chin, like he couldn’t be bothered to shave for this event. He nods at Belinda and walks away quickly before my mother arrives.
I only get a glimpse of him, but I’m fascinated. I’ve never seen a man like him before at an event like this. He looked rugged, handsome, not at all like the stuck-up and stodgy old men that typically come to a charity event.
“Who was that?” I ask Peter.
He shrugs. “Who knows? Probably a waiter.”
I smile half-heartedly at his joke. Even Peter can be stuck-up sometimes.
We watch as mother accosts Belinda. They speak for a moment, and suddenly mother steps back, her eyes wide. And then the conversation begins again, this time with a renewed frenzy. Mother looks angry and Belinda a little overwhelmed.
“What’s that all about?” Peter asks me.
“I’m assuming she doesn’t approve of my future date,” I say.
“Of course she doesn’t.” Peter gives me a look. “Unless he’s old money and powerful, Regina Tillman does not give a shit about him.”
I laugh softly. Mother breaks away from Belinda, looking angry. I’ve seen that look before, and I don’t like it at all.
Peter waves at her, and she spots him, sighing to herself. She walks over to the pair of us, glancing around like she’s afraid that someone will notice something is wrong.
“Well, mother?” Peter asks her.
“Don’t be rude, Peter,” Mother says, though her heart isn’t into it. She looks at me, a frown on her face.
“What?” I ask her.
“I found out who your date is, and you simply aren’t going.”
I pause for a second and it hits me.
My date has to be that man.
“Who is it?” I ask her, my heart beating fast.
“It doesn’t matter. You’ll go with Milo and that’s that.”