“Shit, wait. What am I doing? I completely ditched Violet.” I fished my phone out of my tux pocket. A text from her waited.
I’m here. Coming soon?
“I have to go back. I can’t do this to her.”
“She’ll get over it,” Holden said. “Trust me.”
“How the hell do you know?”
“I told you. She and one of my best friends are soul mates.”
“Didn’t seem that way at the party,” I said, then remembered Miller Stratton’s death glare when I joined Violet in the closet. “Miller’s your friend?”
Holden nodded. “We need to give them a chance.”
“But…she agreed to come with me to the dance. I can’t just ditch her.”
“You can if it’s for a good cause. Which it is.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know…”
“Can you please, for one goddamn second, spare a thought for yourself?” Holden demanded with sudden sharpness. “Is that what you want? To be with Violet? Answer me honestly. If you do, then I’ll get out of this truck and you can drive back to the school and have your dance and wear your crown and carry on, business as usual. Or…”
“Or?”
“Stay with me.”
Goddamn, Holden’s eyes in the light of my cab pierced me, flooded me with possibilities of a life that was closer to what I wanted. Closer to who I was. So close, all I had to do was reach out and touch it. Him…
I swallowed hard and my fingers typed a text to Violet.
I can’t make it. I’m sorry.
“An excellent choice,” Holden said, now all smiles. “Stay quiet. This neighborhood is filled with stuffy busybodies. I don’t need anyone complaining to my aunt and uncle.”
“You don’t live with your parents?”
“They died in a tragic hot air-balloon accident over the Panama Canal.”
“What…?”
“Just kidding. They’re alive and well in Seattle. Unfortunately.”
He kept walking and I had to hurry to follow. Quietly, we went up the house’s immaculate walk. By the light of his gold Zippo, he punched in a security code on a black console. It made a mechanical sound and then the door opened a crack.
I followed Holden inside, my heart pounding in my chest, wondering how far I was going to take this timeout.
The foyer was dark, but Holden didn’t turn on any lights. Photos were black squares on the white wall, the faces indistinguishable. The hall opened on an open-concept space: living room flowing into the kitchen. Sleek, modern furnishings overlooked a backyard of pristine white cement and a glittering infinity pool, its underwater lights glowing. Beyond the pool, the entire Pacific Ocean stretched out under a full moon.
“Pretty sweet digs,” I said.
“I’ll say.” Holden went to the fridge and rummaged around. “Ah, perfect. Beer. You like beer, right? Or maybe something harder?”
“I’m driving. Beer’s fine.”
Whatever was happening tonight, I was not going to get drunk with Holden Parish. I’d already let things go further than imaginable. Losing control was not an option.
I shoved my hands in my tuxedo pants pockets. “You going to turn on a light or what?”
“I like it better in the dark,” Holden said with a wicked grin as he handed me a bottle of beer. He went to the living room where he glanced around in the dimness, searching until he found a minibar. “Ah, here we go. Be a pal and see if there are any olives in the fridge.”
“You don’t know?”
“Do I look like I go grocery shopping?” Holden asked, shaking vodka and ice in a silver mixer.
I found a jar of green olives in the stainless steel fridge. Just as I started to close it, the yellow light fell over a magnetized family photo on the other door. Mom, Dad, two kids, all with dark hair, all with white smiles beaming from brown skin as they posed in front of a golden temple surrounded by a huge pool of water. A little graphic ran across the bottom: Our trip home! Amritsar, India, Summer of 20—
“Fuck me.”
I shut the fridge door and rejoined Holden in the dim living room, sure that at any moment, spotlights were going to blare on us, and police would shout to put our hands up.
I shoved the olives at Holden. “You don’t live here, do you?”
“Never said I did.”
“Jesus Christ, are they home? Upstairs? What the—?”
“Relax,” he said, dropping an olive into his martini. “They’re on vacation for the next two weeks. My Aunt Mags is friends with the Sridhars and offered to water their plants while they’re away.”
“Dude…this is breaking and entering.”
“We’ve only entered. There’s been no breaking.”
“That’s not how that works.”
He took his cocktail to the sliding glass door that opened onto the patio. “Are you coming or not?”
I stood halfway between Holden and the front door. I could end this madness now and salvage the dance with Violet.
And go back to your plastic, pretend life.
I grabbed my beer off the bar counter and joined Holden.
He carefully set his martini on a small table and stretched his long form out on a lounger facing the pool. I sat on the edge of another lounger, still in my tux.
“Gorgeous night, don’t you think?” Holden said.
“Sure. Perfect for committing petty larceny.”
“No one’s losing their shit over a missing beer and a few olives.” He pondered his martini glass, turning it in the moonlight. “Though they might wonder where a few ounces of their Ciroc vodka has run off to. This stuff isn’t cheap but then again, we’re taking excellent care of their plants.”
“Do you break into people’s houses on the regular?”
“On occasion. It’s easier when the owners give you the security code but not as fun as slipping in unannounced.
