We gathered with Dauphine and Mark for a minute, she in a stunning jet blue off-the-shoulder cocktail dress, her hair a Veronica Lake tribute; he in a tux, with jeans, of course, both wearing dopey grins, a match made in heaven if there ever was one.
“Cassie! So fucking good to see you,” Mark said, throwing his arms around me and lifting me off the ground. In my ear, he whispered, “I owe you big-time.”
I had long reassured Will of my “friends only” status with the “skinny boy” who had stopped into the Café that day to invite me to hear him play. And I think he believed me. But Mark’s enthusiastic greeting had Will instinctually putting a warm hand on my back.
“You look gorgeous, Cassie,” said Dauphine, leaning towards me and out of Will’s earshot. “And promise me you’ll come by the store more often. This isn’t goodbye. You changed my life.”
“And you two better be regulars in my restaurant,” I said, announcing its new name. Will looked as chuffed as I felt. “Congratulations,” they both said. And after Mark promised to hold court in the corner with a guitar on opening night, they left to navigate the crowd back to the bar. I turned to slide my arms through Will’s jacket, wending them behind his back in an embrace.
“You have nothing to worry about,” I said, looking up at him, my chin on his chest.
“What? I know that,” he said, moving a strand of stray hair behind my ear.
“I never thought you were the jealous type, Will.”
“I’m not. I’m just … I guess I’m a little sensitive these days. I’ll get over. And soon, I’ll start taking you completely for granted.”
“I’m looking forward to that,” I said, kind of meaning it.
The evening was unfolding so beautifully. Even after Angela Rejean strolled by in a criminally short silver mini-dress that tilted the attention of the entire room in her direction, including Will’s. Her legs had me spellbound, so much so, I didn’t notice the light hand on my shoulder. I assumed it was Will again, his touch becoming such a lovely constant, I almost noticed it more when he didn’t have a hand on me.
“Cassie Robichaud, how nice it is to see you again. And looking ravishing in black satin.”
I turned around and there he was, Pierre Castille, holding a glass of red wine, his frustratingly handsome face lighting up when I met his gaze. With his free hand he clasped an upper arm to kiss my two cheeks, my skin beneath his touch becoming goose-fleshed and chilled. He’d been drinking. Quite a bit. Oh God, what is he doing here?
“Hello, Pierre,” I said, my voice faltering. I looked around for Dauphine, suddenly worried for her.
“And that dress. Oh, and if it isn’t my old childhood pal, Will Foret. Seeing you in a tux—now that’s worth the price of admission!”
“Pierre, I see you’re still always happy to attend the opening of any old envelope,” Will said, giving me a what the fuck is he doing here? kind of look.
I shrugged, looking around frantically for Matilda.
“I could hardly miss tonight, Will, my man. After all, it is—or rather was my fifteen million that this organization is giving away.”
Will turned to me. “His money?”
“But what can you do?” Pierre continued, doing his best to camouflage a slight slur. “You try to support causes you care about and sometimes they just don’t want your help. Women! Am I right? A man can only deal with so much bullshit from them … Speaking of which, here’s our lovely Matilda Greene now.”
Thank God, I thought, as Matilda stiffly approached us.
“Mr. Castille, what a surprise to see you here,” she said. Her voice was steady, but I knew her; I could tell by the way she fussed with her charms that this was throwing her for a loop. Sweat broke out across my brow.
“I bet it is. I can only assume my invitation was lost in the mail. I don’t think, considering my passionate patronage of S.E.C.R.E.T., that you’d have deliberately left my name off the guest list.”
“You’re kind to forgive the oversight,” she said, wincing at the smell of his breath when he leaned close to kiss her cheek.
She turned to Will. “And it is so nice to see you again, Will. And Cassie … why I hope you don’t mind my saying, but you do look a little flushed. Forgive me, but you might have the same thing Dauphine has. Poor thing just left. I hope it wasn’t the shrimp.”
Matilda’s face was imploring, her words sounding as though she were pressing them into firm clay. She placed her hand on my forehead.
“In fact, you’re quite clammy. I wouldn’t blame you one bit if you wanted to duck out of this shindig a little early too, before all the boring speeches. I know how much you hate these things.”
That’s what she said instead of Pierre’s here to do damage, serious damage, not just to S.E.C.R.E.T., but to you. Leave now. Take Will.
“Are you okay?” Will asked, picking up on Matilda’s concern. “If you’re not feeling well we can—”
“Yes, let’s. I am a little—”
“Thirsty?” Pierre said, grabbing a glass of ice water from a passing waiter’s tray and handing it to me. “If you leave now, you’ll miss the best part, Cassie. And I know you,” he said, poking Will in the chest, “you will be very interested in how the night unfolds. No more secrets. No more lies. They’re so toxic, wouldn’t you say, Will?”
“What the fuck are you talking about, Pierre?”
But before I had a chance to say, Will, please take me home now before you hear something that might kill you, kill us, Pierre drained his wineglass and deposited it on another passing tray.
“What am I talking about? I’m talking about the sexy little group these ladies belong to. Has Cassie told you how it’s financed? They sell off paintings. Valuable ones. I bought one recently for fifteen million dollars. But turns out they don’t want my money. And I’m not giving them the painting back. So they’re donating all of it. So generous. So magnanimous. So sanctimonious.”
“Pierre, you’ve said enough,” Matilda said, trying to signal Security. We were a small group, just Matilda, Will, Pierre and me, but ears around us were pricking up, and not those belonging to members of S.E.C.R.E.T.
“And they need the money. Sex fantasies are not cheap, Will. Especially when they come with little prizes in little boxes,” he said, snatching my wrist and holding my bracelet up in front of Will’s face. “Did Cassie ever tell you how she earned these charms? Or where? Wasn’t this one with me, in the back of my limo?”
His fingers were roughly digging through my charms, trying to find the one he was talking about. I wrenched free of his grip.
“Get your fucking hands off her,” Will hissed.
“Will, let’s just get out of here,” I said, my whole body now pressing him away from our little circle, this awful place. He must have felt it, me vibrating with anger and fear.
Matilda tried to calm Pierre, to shut him up, as though there were time to rescue the evening, as though the damage hadn’t already been done. But Will’s eyes were wild with confusion. Angela and Kit sidled over, using their bodies as shields to prevent onlookers from watching the drama, to keep more details from leaking beyond our group into the party at large.
“Sometimes at events like this, Pierre,” Matilda said, grabbing his elbow, “when the drinks flow more freely than the food, we say things we don’t mean, and we hurt people terribly, people who don’t deserve it.”
“And sometimes, Matilda, we tell the truth,” he spat, releasing his arm. Turning to Will, he said, “I hear the truth’s been in short supply in your life lately, buddy. Heard about old Carruthers and your little girlfriend, or rather, ex-girlfriend. Again my money backed the wrong candidate. Family values my ass. Not that you suffered for long. Must have been the happiest day of your life, Cassie, when you found out that his ex was a bigger slut than even you.”