Rogue (Dead Man's Ink, #2)(2)
The dress she’s wearing is decked out in gold sequins, which reflect the light from the illuminated chandeliers overheard, sending fragments of golden, fiery light dancing and skittering on the walls and on the ceiling. It’s not something a respectable Alabama woman would wear in polite company, and that is precisely why she’s worn it. I want to high-five her so badly, but that sort of behavior would be frowned upon.
“As soon as the speeches are over, I want the three of you out of here. You understand me? I don’t care where you go. Just make sure you’re not on the property. God knows what’ll happen if the three of you start drinking.”
I bare my teeth at my father, arranging my face into a rictus of false civility. “Gladly.” Little does my father know, I’ve already started drinking and I have zero intention of f*cking stopping. That would be a really dumb idea at this point in the proceedings. After all, the speeches won’t be for another hour. I have to survive this ridiculous circus until then, and I doubt my father would prefer I inhaled a shit load of coke up my nose instead.
I give him a mock salute as he turns and saunters off into the crowd, grinning like we were just having a pleasant father-son catch up and he doesn’t have a care in the world. On the far side of the room, the string quartet I saw setting up earlier begins to play, sending the glossy, warm notes of Boccherini’s Minuet floating up toward the high ceiling. Such a f*cking farce.
Suddenly the tie around my neck feels like it’s choking me. Laura looks up from the conversation she’s sharing with the young guy I don’t know and gives me a small wave, beckoning me over. I don’t want to go over there and be introduced to the halfwit son of one of my * father’s Harvard buddies. I’d rather poke my eyes out with a shitty stick than do the whole run of the mill, yes, I went to MIT. No, I don’t know so-and-so. Yes, I served in the military. No, I won’t tell you the most f*cked up thing I ever saw. No, I won’t tell you how many people I killed, you f*cking tourist bit. Still, it would seem I have very little choice in the matter. Laura grins at me as I weave my way toward her.
“Jamie!” She throws her arm around my waist, inserting herself into the space at my side so that I naturally put my arm around her shoulders. She looks up at me with those big, brown eyes of hers and winks. “Jamie, this is Edward Lamont. He’s the son of one of your father’s friends. They…” She frowns, turning back to Edward. “How does your father know the governor again?”
“Oh, they went to college together.”
Well, color me motherf*cking surprised.
Edward holds his hand out to me, a wall of white, glow-in-the-dark teeth almost blinding me as he sends a smile my way. “Pleased to meet you, Jamie. I’ve heard a lot about you. Your father is an incredible man.”
“Isn’t he just?” I pump Over Eager Eddie’s hand firmly just the once and turn my full attention on Laura. “Where’s your brother, anyway? I haven’t seen him yet.”
“Oh, he’s here somewhere. I think Daddy was showing him off to the head of some private security firm or something. Hey, you’re not going, are you?” She has that kicked puppy thing going on as I disentangle myself from her embrace. I know she was trying to use me as a shield between her and Edward, but I really don’t have the energy to play nice at the moment.
“Sorry, Lore. I’ll be back soon, I promise. Edward, it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Laura shoots daggers at me as I duck off into the confusion of people. I’ll probably be hearing about it for weeks, but I had to bail. No two ways about it. I can’t find Cade in amongst the sea of dusty, gray-haired old f*cks and their plastic, bleach blonde wives, so I grab a whiskey from Sarah, ask her how her new grandbaby is, and quietly go about getting drunk alone in a dark corner.
My father moves from one small group of people to the next, continually shoveling canapés into his mouth and pouring champagne down his throat until he’s tripping over his own damned size tens. Looks like this year’s speech is going to be slurred again. Eventually the quartet stop playing and take a break, and I spy Cade on the other side of the room, talking to Laura and Over Eager Eddie. No way am I going over there now. I’ve had six whiskeys and I already successfully escaped that clusterf*ck once. Cade will come find me when he’s had enough of this pretentious bullshit, by which point I will be comfortably numb, anyway.
“Excuse me? Do you...? Hi. Do you know where the bathrooms are? I’m dying over here and I only have a few minutes.” In front of me, a petite little brunette with pretty cornflower blue eyes is clasping her hands in front of her stomach, looking like she’s about to pee on my father’s highly polished parquet. The short black dress she’s wearing shows off her tanned, rather delectable legs.
“Do I know where the bathroom is?” I ask.
“Yes. I’m sorry, you probably don’t have a clue either,” she says, laughing nervously.
“Oh, I know where they are. I grew up here.” I sling back the last of the whiskey in my glass and slowly place the tumbler at my feet. I offer her my arm. “Come on. I will escort you there directly.”
She looks up at me like a frightened baby deer, her cheeks flushing, but she places her hand into the crook of my arm and follows me all the same. I don’t take her to the downstairs bathroom behind the staircase. I don’t take her to the one through the servants’ walkway, just next to the kitchen. I lead her up to the next floor, straight to the en suite of one of father’s overly plain guest bedrooms.