Wild Submission(11)

I enter the kitchen, expecting to find him there like every other morning so far. But the room is empty.

“Cam?” I call again, but there’s no reply.

He’s gone.

My heart cracks a little. I like our mornings together, talking over breakfast. It feels like a routine, like I belong here, but clearly, Cam doesn’t agree.

Then I see a vase of roses on the kitchen table, and a note with my name.

Isabelle,

You were beautiful last night. Thank you for sharing yourself with me. I look forward to tonight’s lesson.

Cam

I hug the note to my chest, beaming. I don’t know how I’m going to wait until tonight. I hear my phone ringing from the next room. It’s my friend Olivia.

“Oh, thank God!” she exclaims, sounding frazzled. “I forgot to pick up the cupcakes for later, could you stop by the bakery on your way?”

It takes me a moment to remember: today I’m supposed to meet with my friends to help organize an upcoming charity function. “Of course!” I exclaim, feeling guilty I’d forgotten. I was supposed to host, but Olivia has stepped in to help me out. “Just text me the details, I’m on my way.”

“You’re an angel!”

Olivia hangs up and I swing into action. Jeans and a casual T-shirt may be my preferred outfits when I’m lounging around the house, but if I’m going to take my usual place in the society clique, I need to be at the top of my game. I select a cream designer dress from the wardrobe Cam ordered me, and add hand-tooled Italian leather boots and a huge pair of sunglasses.

When I look in the mirror, I see my old self again. Isabelle Ashcroft, heiress and party girl. But it’s feeling more and more like a mask these days: hiding the true self I’m so scared to reveal.

What if Cam sees me for who I really am?

I feel a chill, but I shake off the thought. I head downstairs and hail a cab, stopping by Magnolia Bakery to pick up a box of cupcakes before arriving at Olivia’s apartment on the Upper East Side.

“Miss Ashcroft.” The doorman tips his cap as he holds open the heavy glass doors. I nod back, struck with how many doors that name has opened for me.

I didn’t lie to Cam last night, but I didn’t tell him the whole truth either. I glossed over my childhood, because I swore I was putting that life behind me, once and for all. From the day Ashcroft and his wife took me home with them, I was determined to belong in their wealthy, privileged world. I was young, but I learned everything I could about manners and etiquette, mimicking the people around me and researching online and in books until you’d never guess I grew up poor, eating boxed mac and cheese—on the good days.

They wouldn’t regret choosing me. They wouldn’t wish they could give me back.

Now, I’m a part of this world. Most of my friends don’t even know I was adopted, and those who do, barely remember. I’ve fooled them all with my performance, because it’s the one thing that keeps me safe from the shadows of my past.

“Hi!” Olivia greets me at the front door, looking breathless. “The others are early, they’re in the sun room. You look great!”

“Thanks again for playing hostess.” I step inside. The apartment is magnificent, a huge pre-war overlooking Central Park that’s been handed down in her family for generations. The tall ceilings and huge windows are highlighted with powder blue silk drapes, and priceless antiques are everywhere. Olivia keeps chatting as we head to the kitchen, where her housekeeper, Olga, is plating a perfect English tea on bone china plates.

“Here are the cupcakes.” Olivia opens the box and gives a peal of delight. “Don’t they look pretty?”

“It’s a good thing we won’t be eating any,” I note wryly. “Lulu and the others will just coo and then ignore them.”

I stop, realizing what I’ve said, but Olivia snorts with laughter. “You’re right,” she says. “We better have one now, before they see. I promise, I won’t tell,” she winks, holding out one of the tiny confections.

I take it and nibble at the sweet frosting, feeling like a naughty child. I’ve just taken a huge bite when Lulu waltzes in.

“Isabelle, darling. Calories!”

I reluctantly put it down as she smothers me with air kisses. Her sharp gaze looks me up and down. “Where have you been hiding? I haven’t seen you in forevs.”

“Oh, just around,” I say vaguely.

“You’re in the middle of a redecoration, right?” Olivia pipes up.

I stare blankly, until I remember: I told them I moved out of my apartment because I was overhauling the design. Not because I couldn’t spend another moment around Brent.