Stone Cold Fox (34)
“Thank you.” I smiled, and she almost laughed. I suspected Calliope enjoyed having me around because I made things interesting, but she couldn’t let her family know that. Predictably, their overall reaction to our engagement news was ho-hum and borderline offensive. “Congratulations,” they all said, practically in unison, unable to force even small smiles.
“Hayes, I suppose we should phone Marcy?” Haven said, her voice dripping with defeat. Poor ol’ gal. Haven didn’t want the ball, but now that it was in her hands, she had to run with it. People would be watching, and she cared what people thought. “She should have the engagement party planned for this month or everyone will start asking questions. Bea, I assume we’ll be taking care of everything considering . . .” Haven trailed off intentionally, so I finished for her.
“Considering my parents are deceased?” Collin wrapped his arm around me with a small smile, squeezing my shoulder affectionately. He beamed when I took his parents to task, something he almost never did himself. That is, until he met me. “I’d be happy to contribute myself, of course,” I added, knowing the response in advance.
“Nonsense!” Hayes barked. “It’s our pleasure, Bea.” Haven nodded in agreement, tight-lipped, emanating no pleasure whatsoever, but if word got out that the bride was contributing to the wedding with her own salary, marrying into one of the richest families in the country, it would be embarrassing for all involved. The engagement news was already running rampant through their social circle, all eyes were on us and the forthcoming event, so there would be no going back now.
There’s nothing more superfluous than an engagement party. Between multiple showers, a bachelor and bachelorette party, a rehearsal dinner, a welcome cocktail, the ceremony, the reception, the after-party and the post-wedding brunch for good measure, it’s like enough already. I’ve always found the pomp and circumstance of wedding celebrations to be outrageous and hardly romantic, but I wouldn’t be so lucky as to get to elope with my betrothed like I would have preferred. All of the events would be part of the so-called privilege of becoming Mrs. Case. I was sure most women would be thrilled, but I wasn’t that excited about all of the parties.
I’m sure it comes as no surprise, but I didn’t have a lot of friends. A dynamic mostly by my own design, since I preferred to keep people at arm’s length unless they would be of real use to me. More men than women fell into that bucket. I’d argue that men are relatively easy to read, but women have real depth, and darkness, to the point that you never really know what we’re thinking. Women have actual layers under our societally mandated glossy veneers. So many unknowns, which is why female friendship had mystified me my entire life. No, thank you. It’s not like Mother attended book clubs or wine nights or Pampered Chef parties and led by example. She knew better than to get involved with women and so did I. So in my case, it was actually helpful being very fit and sinewy and beautiful because very few women wanted to be, or tried to be, my friend. I’d wager that was to avoid any comparison or competition that they couldn’t win, but I also knew that looking like I do made me seem intense and no fun, like someone who worships at the altar of Goop. I didn’t, but I fastidiously maintained the appearance intentionally. Perhaps if my circumstances in life were different, I could have been a fun person, but no, I was not about to risk losing face so I could tie one on during girls’ night out at some club over bottle service and then get cheese fries afterward. I would literally never.
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THE CASES HOSTED our engagement party at the Musket Room, which took me by surprise considering it was contemporary and chic while Haven Case’s style leaned severe and stuffy. That said, it was their first wedding as parents so any event less than astonishing would not stand. I’m certain they relied heavily on Marcy, the heralded wedding planner, and her team for the latest youthful hot spots for premarital gallivanting. After all, personal feelings about me aside, the next few months would check a lot of their boxes when it came to their favorite hobby: showing everyone how much money they had in a completely acceptable fashion. What would the neighbors say if the Family Case didn’t parade around the newly betrothed like a couple of Shetland show ponies?
Haven lent me a family heirloom for the occasion, a beautiful, but thinly veiled insult. A diamond necklace that had been passed down, generation by generation, to the wives of the firstborn Case sons. I noticed that she didn’t just give it to me outright, lending it to me instead like some first-time starlet at the Golden Globes with only her first hundred grand in the bank. The dazzler was dreadfully heavy, but worth the trouble. Call me crass, but dripping in diamonds did feel like sin in the most satisfying way. I was only human. Mother would have been jealous.
The occasion practically demanded I wear white, but I wouldn’t be caught dead in some dowdy lace shift that covered up all the goods. I opted for a sexy ivory jumpsuit with tasteful draping and silver accents, an Edie Sedgwick–inspired ensemble but with considerably less dilated pupils. In a small personal victory, I did catch Hayes Case taking a cheeky peek down my top when I leaned over for a veggie canapé. Men are all the same. He’d be on my side soon enough.
In a thrilling turn of events, the party was instantly more invigorating when Gale Wallace-Leicester managed to show her face. A true delight and a bit of a shock, since she’d been maintaining a low profile since our couples retreat in Rhode Island. Luke was not present, so I assumed she took him off the payroll. She must have been a glutton for punishment to accept the invitation, having to watch Collin and me glide about the room, hand in hand, while everyone ogled our happiness and hotness. It had to sting, and I was pleased to have a front-row seat. What daggers would she throw at me that I’d have to maneuver around? Give me something good, Gale. I was begging her. Make this last hurrah really worth my while before I hung up my hustling hat for good.