Vain (The Seven Deadly, #1)(16)

“I’ve known you since you were small and sweet and innocent, Sophie.” He breathed deeply and palmed the handles of his satchel. “I cannot undo the things you’ve done, but I’ll be damned if your future is as bleak as your past.”

Pembrook kissed my cheek lightly and took a few of the tears I’d unwittingly shed with him. He abandoned me there in that cold room. I was alone.

I didn’t know much more than I had that morning. The only slight additional awareness I owned was that in one week I would be on a plane to Uganda to see an old friend of Pemmy’s and to help out at his orphanage. Such a simple idea with such huge consequences.

I pinched the stupid card my father had left me between my thumb and forefinger, rubbing the new foiled number. I’d always considered them little plastic hugs instead of seeing them for what they truly were. To my father, they were obligations. And if my father did one thing, he always fulfilled his obligations.





CHAPTER FIVE



I dazily walked outside and down the steps, not really knowing where I was going.

“No call,” I heard Spencer tease beside me. “Typical Sophie Price.”

I looked his direction and the joshing smile on his face fell when he read my expression.

“Come on, it couldn’t have been that bad. A few hours of community service, tops.”

“Not quite, Spencer.”

Spencer looked visibly nervous. “What’d you get?”

“Six months in Africa.”

Spencer laughed out loud. “Hilarious, Soph, a jab at my parents. Funny. Now, seriously what’d you get?”

“I’m not kidding. I’ve been sentenced six months working in an orphanage in Uganda.”

Spencer’s face fell, his brows narrowed. “You’re f*cking with me.”

“I’m really not. I wish I was.”

Spencer took me by the hand and we sat at a stone bench in front of the courthouse. My back laid flat against the rest and Spencer angled himself toward me, his arm strewn across the top.

“Where?” he asked.

“Uganda.”

He sank back a bit. “I wish I had any idea if that was dangerous or not.”

“Me too,” I stoically added.

“When,” he said, before clearing his throat, “do you leave?”

“Next week.”

“Holy shit, Sophie.”

“I know,” I said, squeezing my eyes shut. I opened them and turned toward him.

“Make this week for me, Spence. Make it so damn fun it’ll hold me over for six months.”

“Of course, Sophie.”



The club he’d taken me to was new, so new I’d never been there and that was saying something, but it was packed, sardines packed. I could tell even though we hadn’t even stepped a foot inside. Spencer’s Aston Martin pulled up to the curb outside the door and I could practically feel the stares of the club patrons in line, heavy and full of wonder. The impossibly sexy Spencer casually stepped from his car and handed the keys to the valet. A second valet attempted to open the door for me but Spencer waved him off and came to my side, swinging my door open softly and reaching in for my hand. I heard the cottony sighs of the girls in queue when they saw Spencer and it made me wonder why I couldn’t get into him the way he was into me.

My hand gripped his as he culled me from my seat. My hair blew away from my face and I got a good glimpse of the glinted eyes of admirers for almost half a block. My heel hit pavement and the collective groans from the men in line at the sight of my leg made Spencer wink discretely. He lifted me and closed my door behind me. In the seconds it took to turn, a secret thrill blew through my chest at the envy emanating from their faces, but our expressions would have never conveyed such. No, we were trained from birth to assert disinterest. We were the ultimate snobs and realizing this, that secret thrill quickly dissipated into shame. What is wrong with me?

The doorman opened the door for us and ushered us inside and the people in line didn’t question the move, assuming we were more important than they were and that made me think further into why society accepted such nonsense, but there I was, letting it happen anyway. I was turning into a massive hypocrite and all I wanted was to go back to how I was.

“Can we make out a little, Spencer, and not have it turn into anything?” I asked him, knowing that was such a bitch move but needing a little of my old life to come back in order for me to feel sane again.

“Are you kidding, Sophie Price? I thought you’d never ask.”

“That was diplomatic.”

“I wasn’t being tactful. When Sophie Price asks you for a kiss, you perform. Now, if you need any other, uh, performing, I’d be happy to oblige as well.”

This stopped my heart. “Maybe making out is a horrible idea.”

“No, no, forget everything I just said.” He hurriedly led us to our private table and whipped me toward him. “Dance with me.”

I threw my small bag in the booth in answer, knowing security in VIP would cover it since Spence handed the guy a hundred and I let him pull me toward the floor. I took the lead and wound my way through the crowd with Spencer just behind me and found a spot two people could fit comfortably. Darkness surrounded us other than the dancing lights that touched the top of the crowd but bounced off just as quickly.