Abell had been peeling away his falseness bit by bit around me. So why, after talking about my family, had he thrown his plastic wall back up?
Adjusting the heavy, double-buttoned coat I'd worn to avoid winter's bite, I walked unsteadily through the front door. Thick carpets stretched along the floor, the kind meant for movie stars.
The house reeked of money.
Relax. So what if the Birch's are rich, your family is wealthy, too! Don't be intimidated!
Except we didn't have this kind of wealth. We never had. This was a whole other tier, another world.
The buzz of conversation rolled over me as I entered. Freezing in the foyer, I gazed up at the pale staircase draped in green garland, a balcony with red ribbons twisting along one side. Tables covered in food sat against each wall of the room, an ice sculpture of a deer perched on one of them.
There was a crowd milling around, all of them dressed to impress. Just as I'd figured, every face belonged to a stranger. I was in the middle of a fancy Christmas party, and I knew no one.
Wonderful.
A woman in a black dress approached me with a tray of glasses. “Drinks?”
“Yes,” I said gratefully, taking the champagne flute and sipping. “I think I'll need this.”
Where's Abell? Did he not come?
What about Gram?
The party was in full swing. If making a late entry was anyone's plan, they were pushing it. Checking my phone, I felt my stomach slip lower—no missed calls. Not even a text.
Abell had exchanged numbers with me before we parted the other day. Since then, the only thing he'd texted me was an invitation to visit him if I got lonely.
I'd ignored it at the time, I knew what a booty call was.
Now, I was tempted to respond, just for an excuse to make contact.
The hairs on my neck stood tall. Suddenly, I didn't feel... alone. Turning, I caught a pair of blue eyes watching me.
They didn't belong to Abell.
Dressed in a black suit, his silvery hair shining, Corin Birch came my way with a smile. The sight of him made my mouth taste like a leaking battery. Ah, here we go.
“Miss Halloway,” he chuckled, holding out a hand. The gold watch on his wrist glinted. “May I take your coat?”
You can take my foot up your ass. Smiling politely, I shrugged out of the long coat, passing it to him. The dress I'd chosen for the evening wasn't made of mistletoe, but it was green like the plant.
Knit from soft wool, it hugged my body, showing off the curves my mother hated, while touching my knees to keep it classy.
I'd thrown my hair up in a braid that was wrapped high on my neck, the air brushing my bare collar bone. Dressing to fit the situation was something my parents had ingrained in me.
Corin looked me over slowly. The appreciation in his eyes had my dinner tickling the back of my throat. “You look lovely. Your mother and you are so similar.”
Laughing, I sipped my champagne. “Don't let her hear you say that, she'll be furious.”
“I've seen her angry side enough times to not be afraid of it.”
Curiosity chimed in my skull, louder than a grandfather clock. “She never told me that she knew you. I mean, knew you knew you, enough to get a personal loan... and to set up this whole marriage contract.” I spit the last sentence out, wishing I could crush it under my heel.
He must have sensed my growing disgust; I wasn't really hiding it. “Even after our meeting together, she's still told you nothing.”
“Not a thing. Why don't you enlighten me?”
The corners of his eyes crinkled up. “I think not. Here's a question for you, how are you and my son getting along?”
I went to take a big mouthful of my drink, but it was already empty. Had I chugged it that fast? Corin is making me nervous, I can't help it. “Abell is... something else.”
“Do you hate him?”
My eyebrows flew high at the abrupt turn this conversation had taken. “Hate him?”
Corin stroked his palm over my coat in his arms. “You seemed appropriately offended when you learned your fate. I guess his reputation precedes him. I'm sorry about these circumstances, Miss Halloway.”
I couldn't control the sarcasm in my tiny smile. “Are you? You could always call the wedding off, burn the contract.”
“No,” he said, his voice rich with a darkness I didn't understand. “I'm afraid if you want Halloway Inc, you're stuck with my wreck of a son. You'll be married to a man who cares about nothing but wasting the money we both earn on whores and alcohol.”
Blown away by his insult, I squeezed the stem of my glass. Abell had told me he didn't get along with his father, but for the man to callously tell me that his own son was a mess, it was shocking.
Everything Corin is saying about him is stuff I've thought.
Even with that fact, it bothered me that he could speak so poorly about his own son.
So no one around us would hear, I whispered, “Were you always such an asshole to him?”
My polite facade had fully melted away.
Corin paused, his fingers curling around one of my coat's buttons. I feared he was getting ready to tear it off. “Do you approve of his history, his habits, Miss Halloway?”
Rocking side to side, I frowned. “No, of course not.”
“Could you ever see yourself loving a man who chooses his obscene, selfish desires over your own happiness?”
The room was pleasantly warm, and still, a cold chill swam through my blood. “I... no, never.”
Was I crazy, or did Corin smile like he was actually happy? “I'll go put your coat in the check-in area, it'll be waiting for you when you leave. Enjoy yourself tonight, Miss Halloway.”
And that was it, our weird as hell conversation was over.
Staring after Corin, I forgot my drink was empty and took a sip of air. Unsatisfied, even irritated, I looked around for one of the woman with trays. What the hell was that all about? Corin was disturbing me with how confusing he was being.
He knew my mother... but wouldn't say how.
He slandered his son in front of me, all while mocking how I couldn't escape the contract.
If the man was auditioning for the part of a super villain, he was one nuke away from getting it.
Spotting a girl with more drinks, I started to move through the crowd. I didn't get far before I locked my knees, a gap in the busy room revealing a couple standing by the wall.
It was my mother.
And she was with Abell.
Ducking to the side, I willed myself to act normal—to not be spotted. Why are they talking? Were they just making conversation?
Peering at them, I noted how sharp Abell looked in his rich, plum colored vest over a white button-down. The contrast helped define the width of his shoulders. He'd peeled the sleeves to his elbow, not shy in exposing his elaborate tattoos.
The combination of class and casual reminded me of a rock star. In a way, I guess he was one—or pretty close.
A rich, rock star player, I mused, stringing together all of his qualities. Recalling what his dad had said about him, my guts knotted tight.
I didn't know how to feel. Abell was a player, but his dad was a monster for pointing it out. For calling him a fuck up.
The things Abell had told me when we'd sat and eaten ice cream together on our surreal shopping trip, they became clearer. I understood why he'd run away from the pressure his dad apparently put on him.
After all, I thought, squinting at my mother, I've experienced the same thing.
Abruptly, he leaned in, listening to something she was saying. His smile, even yards away, turned my heart into a jet engine.
He looked so good when he did that, like he had a secret he wanted to share, and he'd tell you... for a price.