Well . . . fuck him. She wasn’t going to be the one who reached out all the time. Let him give it a shot. If he wanted to be friends with Edie, he was going to have to try a little.
***
Magnus felt like a dick as he reviewed Edie’s friendly texts. He’d blown her off deliberately. It wasn’t her—it was the entire situation with Levi and Bianca and the stupid games they were playing. They were setting Edie up as a clueless pawn and himself as an evil mastermind, and he was fucking tired of that shit. If Levi wanted to see Bianca, he could ask her out like a goddamn adult, not ask Magnus to distract Edie so he could sneak off.
It was childish, and he was going to have no part in it. Edie deserved better, and she deserved someone who wanted to go out with her because she was warm and funny and had a soft heart when it came to animals, and the most incredible, kissable mouth.
Not someone who was dating her simply to distract her. He’d gotten a glimpse inside Edie’s mind in the last week or two. She was like a piece of dark chocolate that came in those candy boxes—bitter and brittle on the outside, and filled with sweetness within.
She deserved someone who would appreciate that sweetness. Not these stupid games Levi and Bianca were determined to play.
He tossed aside his phone in frustration, enjoying the clatter it made on his desk. He was alone in the office, and that made him even more frustrated. True to form, Levi was sulking and avoiding work.
Fuck him. Fuck everything about this. Magnus threw up his hands and went to the workout room to blow off some steam.
***
“Please, please tell me you’re not going to wear that outfit,” Bianca said to Edie, chasing after her sister with a makeup brush. “Look. I still have glitter and a long dress! We can make you a princess, too!” She blinked big, pleading eyes at her older sister.
Edie shook her sword at Bianca. “Arr. I’m going to be a pirate.”
“Pirates aren’t sexy! You want to be sexy tonight, don’t you?”
“I can be a sexy pirate.”
“Not with a peg leg, you can’t.”
“It’s the perfect solution,” Edie said, tapping her sword against the peg her knee was propped up on. “With this thing I can sit in the corner and be in character, and no one’s going to expect me to dance or be social or anything.” She flipped down the eyepatch over one eye. “You can be the hot one.”
“But . . . but . . .”
“No buts. I’d just trip over that dress you got me anyhow.” Apparently Bianca had thought that Edie could wear a glittery green slinky mermaid costume, complete with red wig and seashell bra. And while it would have been hilarious to be the mermaid to Gretchen’s Ursula, it also would have meant a lot of attention and a lot of walking and mingling, and that was not her idea of fun. So she’d hit up a thrift store and made her own costume out of a ragged black asymmetrical skirt, a few plastic Halloween props, and a red-and-white striped blouse that hung off of one shoulder and was probably from the eighties’ Flashdance era. A retro pirate was still a pirate, after all.
“Can’t we at least glitter up your cheekbones?” Bianca asked, holding up her makeup brush.
She resisted the urge to slap the brush out of Bianca’s hand. “No glitter.” When Bianca tried to glitter her face anyhow, she jerked away. “Fuck off with the glitter! Seriously!”
“Don’t you want to be sexy? There’s going to be a lot of hot guys there tonight.”
“Then they can look at your glittery tits all they want,” she said, gesturing at Bianca’s impressive cleavage. “And I’m going to sit in a corner and drink.”
“Party pooper,” Bianca said with a pout. “Magnus will be there.”
“Good for him.” All the more reason she didn’t want to go. “He can look at your glittery tits, too.”
“I thought you liked Magnus,” Bianca said, her eyes going wide.
“Nope. He’s a dick.”
Bianca gave her a narrow-eyed look. “What did he say to you?”
“Nothing at all, actually. And we’re going to be late to the party if you don’t finish tarting up your boobs,” Edie said. She really did not want to talk about her dating life—or lack thereof—to perfect Bianca. “Now come on. We need to get decent parking because those cobblestones are going to be hell on a peg leg.”
“You’re the worst,” Bianca said dramatically. “The worst.”
“I know. But you’re my sister so you’re stuck with me.”
***
A short time later, Bianca was glittered up, her smooth hair curled to perfection, and Edie submitted to a bit of lip gloss—no more!—and the sisters were on their way. They spent a few hours in the car and then pulled up to Buchanan Manor, the long, winding driveway lined with limos and expensive cars.
And Edie’s stomach sank a little at the sight of the crowds. She hated parties. And even though the manor house was lit up with glowing lights dotting the walkways and white strings of additional lights hanging from above, she couldn’t muster enthusiasm for the party. Just the sight of the people crowding at the door made her stomach clench unhappily.
Bianca made a happy squeal of excitement. “Look at all the lights on the grounds! It’s so beautiful.”
“It is,” Edie agreed unenthusiastically.
Parking ended up being easier than they thought—Hunter and Gretchen had valets handling all the cars. Of course they did. Money was no object for Hunter, and Gretchen was all too happy to spend some of it on his behalf. They handed off the keys to their car and headed up the long, light-festooned walkway to the doors of the manor, and with each step, Edie regretted the peg leg a little more. The padding she’d put in the knee already felt as if it were non-existent, and it was already hurting. Figured. All the more reason to find a nice, quiet corner and hide for the rest of the evening.
Two men in tuxedos and wearing headsets waited at the doors, checking invitations. Edie passed hers over and waited. “I already cleared with Gretchen that my sister Bianca could attend.”
The man ran his pen down the list, then nodded. “I see her name listed here. Do both of you have masks?”
They received their masks, and then the doors opened and they were enveloped by the party.
Inside the house, the manor was packed from wall to wall with people. Colorful banners of teal and white streamed through the bannisters of the double staircase, and flowers overflowed on every surface. Maids walked past with trays of food and waiters passed out stemmed drinks. Everywhere there were people in elegant costumes and plain black masks.
And . . . here she was, dressed as a pirate. Well, so much for subtlety. At least Bianca would blend in.
“Yeah, this party looks wild,” Edie said. “I’m going to go find me a nice bench to hide out on. I’ll text you when I’m ready to go, okay?”
“Don’t text too soon,” Bianca said excitedly. She gave Edie a quick hug and then wandered off into the party.
Edie wiped off leftover glitter from Bianca’s hug and began to weave her way through the crowd. She’d find Gretchen, say her greetings, claim a bench, and play games on her phone until it was time to leave. Yep, a life of excitement.
A half hour later, she’d greeted Gretchen, who looked utterly fabulous in her costume and was glowing with excitement. She’d spoken for a few minutes with Hunter, who made a dashing figure as the Phantom of the Opera, his mask covering almost all of his scars. The poor man looked almost as uncomfortable as she was, stoically enduring out of love for his fiancée. That was sweet, Edie decided. She chatted with them for several minutes, said hello to a few other bridesmaids, and when her knee protested a bit too long, made her excuses and went off to find that bench she’d been promising herself.
She skirted the edges of the party, taking a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and sipping it as she hugged the curtains. There was a small side-hall nearby and a Restrooms sign posted on the wall, with an arrow for party guests. As Edie leaned against the wall, Gretchen strolled past, all purple and tentacles, talking with another bridesmaid. Her literary agent, Edie vaguely remembered. Kat.