Good Rich People(75)

I have never been to Margo’s house before. I have seen only the glint of the tower from below, the back side of the palace from the gardens. It’s a house that was made to be entered from the front, crammed with glass windows, buffeted with turrets. It spins with the drive. It looks like a lion preparing to pounce, the way all its muscles are tight and coiled as the engine purrs closer.

Lyla greets me on the stairs. “Your outfit’s in the anteroom.” Like I know where that is. Like I know what that is.

Someone hands me a drink. I ask where the anteroom is and they give me directions. I walk down a hall of mirrors, see myself reflected a million times. The faces don’t match. I shiver, stop looking.

I find the anteroom and put on the dress Lyla selected for me. I get this peculiar feeling in the pit of my stomach. I slept with her husband. Now I’m wearing her dress in their house. But I won’t let it ruin tonight. I’ve never been to a party like this. I’ve never been inside a house like this. Lyla said that wealth is access, and the higher you get, the more you unlock. Somewhere someone is even richer than this, in a bigger house with sharper glass. Why stop here? Why not go all the way to the top?

I might be a little drunk.

I am wandering back to the party when he finds me. He’s in one of his soft midnight blue tailored suits.

“Happy birthday,” I say. He toasts me. “Are you excited for your party?”

His dimples show. “I’m glad you’re here.”

I look around the house, confusing my reflection everywhere for other people, but we are alone. “Did you grow up here?”

He grabs hold of me suddenly, puts his hand around the back of my neck, pulls me against him and kisses me. It’s like kisses used to be, sparkling and surprising.

When he pulls away, I wobble uncertainly. Off-balance. “Thank you for not saying anything.”

He squeezes my hand. “It’s my pleasure.”



* * *





THE DINNER IS obscene. Waiters set fire to our fish and it melts into caviar eggs. They spray pansies so they change color. Pour jus over sprouts and turn them bloodred. Every dish is dressed like something else. I guess I fit the theme.

Graham sits next to me, whispers in my ear rude comments about the most expensive food I’ve ever seen: “Looks like something you’d find at the bottom of a lake” and “Smells like cat litter.”

After dinner, we all follow the staff into the entryway, where there is a long table beneath a velvet cloth. Lyla explains the rules of the game. I heard about it at the drinks with the girls, but Graham is hearing about it for the first time.

He grins from ear to ear, then leans over my shoulder. “Do you think you can win?”

“I know I can,” I tease playfully.

He leans closer. His voice drops to a growl. “Let’s make it more interesting. If you win, I’ll give you anything you want. If not, I hand over that bag of yours to the police.”

My throat starts to close. He’s joking, isn’t he? Who would say something like that? Who would do something like that? Put my life on the line for a game.

“I—,” I start, but it’s too late. He moves easily away from me, crosses to Lyla, throws his arm around her. “This is a brilliant idea, darling!”

His dimples are like burns in the side of his face. His teeth glint. He’s joking. He has to be. No one could be that cruel. He doesn’t even catch my eyes again.

It’s like I’m nothing but a game to him.





DEMI



I race to the garden as soon as the game starts. It’s darker there but I figure it’s the most secure. There are uneven stairs, trees and brush for cover. Natural obstacles like walls and moats and gazebos.

I sight my first kill, one of Graham’s friends creeping down the stairs.

Bang!

“No fair!” he barks, dusting the gold from his belly. “The game hasn’t even started.”

Bang! Off in the distance.

“Well, fuck it!” He toddles back up the steps. This is going to be easier than I thought. These men are weak. Their instincts are shot. They have never had to fight for anything. I was made for this.

I go to the gazebo, because it’s higher up but enclosed. I am tempted to run into the house and take them all out one by one, but my instincts know this is the better way: to wait it out, let them kill one another first. Then I will go in. Graham is the only one I’m not sure about, the only one with teeth. I don’t know if he was joking. As long as I win, I’ll never have to find out.

I am standing at the ready when I see a tall head towering above the flowers. I aim my gun. He puts up his hands. They’re filthy.

“Michael!” I lower the weapon.

“You trying to shoot me?”

Bang!

He jumps down, covers his head.

“It’s just a game. We’re playing a game.”

He rises carefully, rubbing his head. “Funny game.”

Bang!

He flinches but stays standing. “I heard the noise. Thought they were all killing one another.”

I explain the Simunition to him. “You should leave. They’ve all gone crazy.”

“Are you kidding? This is the perfect time to go up to the house. See what’s not nailed down.”