“Christian has arrived.” Colt buries both hands in his jacket pockets and gives our friend a tight nod.
“Swell.” I balance on my favourite Manolo’s, giving Christian a delicate finger wave before he accelerates into the parking space.
The jackass is sure to love the opportunity to grill us about our father’s arrest. For the fact lawyers are supposed to keep details to themselves in the name of client confidentiality, Christian sure knows a lot about what his father does as a barrister.
A stiff breeze whips up out of nowhere and a chill races straight up the exposed lines of my legs. I may have worn the short dress for Barrett after all—so sue me.
“Remember,” Colt states as we pause at the base of the double-wide stone steps. “You don’t owe anyone an explanation. No matter how many times they ask, you hold your head high and say you’d rather not discuss an ongoing investigation.”
I nod, acutely aware that every time Colt speaks about our father’s situation, he lets on another tiny little nugget of information. The investigation is live, which means that there’s always a chance the charges against Dad could still be dropped.
“Pass me your coat.” Colt holds out his hand. “You can’t go in there looking as though you’re homeless.”
I give my brother a wry smile and then shed the warm wool from my shoulders. A shiver immediately wracks my body, head to toe; I can’t jog up the damn steps fast enough.
The heat that washes across me as the front door opens is the best damn feeling I’ve had all day. I could stand in the gust of hot air for hours, comfortable in its embrace.
“Mr and Miss Williams,” the Fellows’ butler greets. “May I take your coats?”
Colt passes them off absently without so much as a simple thanks. I smile at the greying man, tipping my head slightly to the right as I do. It works as intended, pulling a smirk from the older man as well.
“Lacey!” My best friend, Greer, bounds through the crowd dancing in the front parlour, drink held high over everyone’s heads.
“If you need me, message me,” Colt whispers in my ear, hand gently touching the small of my back before he vanishes into the masses of people making the most of the Fellows’ hospitality.
“Why didn’t you tell me you’d changed your mind?” Greer asks, slipping a warm arm around my shoulders. “You should have messaged me.”
“It was honestly a last-minute thing,” I bluff. “Did Barrett pick you up?”
She lifts a dark eyebrow. “No.” She’s gorgeous, Greer. A genuine joy that’s infectious whenever she’s around. “Did you truly think he would.”
“I had hoped.” Although, knowing he wasn’t as interested in her as he was me is nice. I scour the room, gaze roaming over the inconsequential faces of my classmates. “Is he here?”
She jerks her chin to the second lounge further in the back of the house. “He’s back there.” Arm looped through mine, she tugs me forward. “Come on. We’ll go get you a drink and say hi.”
I hate to admit it, but Colt was right. The loud bustle of the party distracts me from the mass of questions stuck on a loop in my mind. I cling close to Greer, the tight underskirt of my dress stopping me from being able to walk too quickly. She more-or-less drags me down the mood-lit hallway toward where the music isn’t quite so loud, and only the elite are allowed to play.
“Here she is,” Richard announces as I enter the den of wolves.
Born to two doctors at the top of their field, the tall, dark, and handsome playboy of our bunch commands the room with his presence.
“We were sad to hear you wouldn’t come tonight.”
I hold his gaze, unnerved as always by his shark-like eyes. “Word travels fast, doesn’t it?”
“Oh, leave her alone.” The belle of our ball, Libby, rises from where she rests on the arm of her beau—Arthur’s—chair. “How are you?”
Her golden hair is perfect as always, cascading over slender shoulders left bare by a strapless bodice on her princess-style gown. I search for any signs of distress in her pale blue eyes but come up short. Odd, considering Colt said her father is involved as well.
“Shocked at first,” I admit, taking her hands in mine when she reaches out for me. “But I’m sure everything will work as it’s supposed to.”
“Of course, it will.” She squeezes my hands. In warning, or solidarity, I’m not sure.
I glance at Barrett over her shoulder before whispering, “How are you? Colt said your dad is tangled in this mess as well.”
Libby drops my hands, one moving to rest at the base of her throat. “Oh, he’s fine. It was a technicality.”
So, my dad is the only one in jail tonight. Nice.
“Come sit down.” Barrett’s gaze drags down the length of my body before he pats his knee. “We were discussing Christian’s latest plaything over at Portside Girls.”
I shift my focus to the prankster of our bunch, seated in the single rolled leather wingback in the corner of the room. “Really?” His long legs stretch before him, crossed at the ankles.
“Such a decadent little thing,” he states. “Colt wasn’t wrong when he said she was a firecracker.” Christian’s gaze lifts behind me. “Where is your brother?”
“Around.”
Greer hands me a short glass of sherry, giving me a swift pat on the ass to send me Barrett’s way.
Visions of Dad seated on a cold metal bench flash through my mind, yet I swallow down the unease and play my role.
Barrett tucks his foot in to steady his leg, a lazy smile on his lush lips as I step before him. “Told you gold is your colour.”
With a gentle smile, I lower myself carefully to his thigh, sure to keep the back of my short skirt tucked beneath me. I can’t deny the thrill that races through me when his hand slides in to hold me steady at the waist.
“My
