Fade Out (The Morganville Vampires #7)(30)

I lick my lips, stalling. “I’m sure we’ll be attending many of the same functions, Lucas.” It’s not that he’s not attractive. With his smoldering brown eyes and tan skin, his lean, muscular build and impressive portfolio, he’s all but perfect. It’s simply that I knew ages ago I didn’t feel that way toward him. There was never a spark.

But truly, that’s one of the rare luxuries I don’t get to indulge.

He smiles. “I meant just us.” He runs a finger along my jaw, and I try not to pull away.

“I have classes. Just so much makeup work…” I trail off. I’m unsure how much my father revealed about where I’ve been for the past few months. Although, maybe outing the fact that I was in rehab would get me out of this awkward mess.

That’s a stupid thought. Rehab doesn’t stop family mergers. In fact, they’re probably the reason why half of society is admitted into rehab.

Thankfully, the song ends and I step out of Lucas’s grasp. When my father returns to collect Lucas for a discussion happening across the room, I sigh with relief.

“Sorry,” Lucas says, as if it’s any real loss that he’s leaving me. I can only shrug.

Becca has found her own group to gab away to, which isn’t a disappointment at all, either. Deciding I’ve stood post long enough, the three-inch heels killing my feet, I slip down into the seat at our table.

Before I left, Vee asked me if being around Becca made me miss my mother. Which was a strange question; I’d never once mentioned her to Vee. But I guess it was her way of broaching the subject without having to actually ask the difficult question of what happened to her right out, and why I never spoke of her.

The truth is, I don’t know my mother, so there’s nothing to miss. She’s still alive, somewhere, I assume. My father once said that she couldn’t handle the pressures of this life. That she was weak and selfish. That’s all. Nothing more. I was five, my first day of Kindergarten, watching all the kids hug their moms goodbye. Mothers wiping smeared, teary makeup from their eyes.

It was the first time I can actually remember wondering about my mom. I’m sure I had before then, I had to have, but that was such a profound moment that it’s the one that sticks out above the rest.

After my father summed up my mother in a sentence, like he would a business transaction gone wrong, I never asked him again. I knew I’d never get a real answer as to her whereabouts. And he probably didn’t know or care, anyway. He’s not the type to dwell. I imagine my mother offended him in some way, probably by leaving him, and that was it. No contact—from him or me. He wrote her off.

She’s a blacklisted Wyndemere.

And she became the instrument by which I measured my life. Making sure I stayed well within the lines, never straying, as to not bring down that banishment upon myself.

I don’t know why I’m even continuing to think on the matter now. I told Vee a form of the truth, the short—that I didn’t know her. And I should be thinking of anything else. Her question has just caused some deep, cavernous void to expand in my chest. Along with my parents’ continued belittling of me after my expulsion, I’m feeling more than vulnerable.

Empty.

I pick at the lacy tablecloth, pulling at a loose string, hoping the event wraps up early.

“Something witty.”

My fingers release the string, and I turn in my chair to face Ryder. His hair is slicked back away from his eyes, the color darker than usual, not falling in its typical, haphazard style. He’s fidgeting with cufflinks that are attached to a black tux, a black tie rests under his smoothly shaven neck, and his eyes are squinted, the creases extending toward his temples as he smiles.

I take all this in within a matter of a second before my brain catches up, questioning why he’s here. Did he follow me? “What did you say?”

Pulling out the chair beside me, he sits quickly. “I said, something witty.” He leans forward, elbows to thighs, his broad shoulders even more pronounced in the tux. “I’ve been staring at you for about five minutes, trying to come up with some clever thing to say. But I couldn’t wait to talk to you any longer. So, here I am. Without a witty line. Just my presence.”

I twist my crossed knees toward him, pulling the long skirt of my dress with so I can hide my discarded shoes. “And why is your presence here, exactly?”

He waggles his eyebrows, making my mouth inch into a smile. “I’d accuse you of stalking me,” he says. “But then you could accuse me of the same right back. I mean, what are the chances that we were both required to attend the same event, and yet, didn’t manage to discover this particular detail until now?”

My smile grows. “This is where you were going to take me?”

He nods, long and slow. “In fact, it was. And I have to say—” his gaze plunges to my champagne colored dress; the little bit of cleavage it reveals and the tapered waist “—you did an excellent job of finding something to wear on such short notice.”

I wave a hand through the air dismissively. “Yeah, well, thank you. But this was not my doing.”

“Ah,” he says, and his eyes leave me—I note not without difficulty—to roam the room until he locates my parents. “So you really weren’t standing me up.”

I shrug. “I have no reason to lie to you…yet.”