And I cringe at the fact that I even know who she’s wearing, or that my outfit—a black Dolce & Gabbana minidress and Louboutin red sole pumps—costs triple what hers does. Sasha might come from a wealthy family, but in comparison to my movie star mother and award-winning surgeon father, her family are peasants, whereas my family is Hollywood royalty.
And again, the thought makes me internally recoil.
“Thanks,” I say, plastering on a fake smile while wishing I were cuddled up with Ashton in his apartment playing video games, instead of at The Lodge, an upscale nightclub in Hawk’s Landing, trying to fit in—something I’ve been trying and failing to do my entire life.
I’m matte in a glossy world.
Much to my mother’s horror.
“I did the honor of ordering for everyone,” Sasha announces, handing out pretentious looking drinks to everyone in our party. “Blackberry gin and tonic,” she says. “Only the best for my girls.”
Melina, Tori, and Jade, Sasha’s resident ass-kissers, beam in delight, while I do my best not to roll my eyes. She ordered us drinks. She didn’t cure world hunger. And really, gin and tonic? Can she be any more cliché?
I’m miserable already. Just like Ashton predicted. Sometimes I really hate how well he knows me. It’s hard to hide from yourself when someone can always find you.
“To being us,” Sasha yells over the music, raising her glass.
The cliché Sasha moments are plentiful tonight.
“To being us,” the other girls echo, raising their glasses and then taking dainty sips of their drinks.
It takes all of my restraint not to throw back my entire drink, especially when it feels like the only way I’ll ever make it through tonight is by being drunk.
The entire reason why I moved to Hawk’s Landing was to get away from women like the ones I’m with, yet here I am, making friends with them and planning to join the sorority they belong to. Why? Because it doesn’t matter how far I move to get out from under my parents’ shadow, I can’t help but want to make them proud. In this case, it means joining the elite sorority at Atlantic Pointe to impress them, especially Mom, but unlike her, I don’t seem to fit in anywhere.
“Should we dance?” Jade suggests, glancing out onto the dance floor. Most of the people dancing appear to be at least ten years my senior, which makes sense since this club is an over twenty-one club, and the only reason I got in is because Sasha knows someone who knows someone.
“Jade,” Sasha chides. “Please remember why we’re here.” She takes another delicate sip of her drink and sets it down, glaring her green eyes at her friend. “No respectable man is going to want to marry a woman who shakes her ass on the dance floor.”
Inwardly, I sigh. Then I down my drink because as much as I’d like to be ladylike like my mom taught me to be, I need the alcohol more.
Sasha, of course, catches me in the act. “Respectable men don’t like lushes either,” she scolds.
Good thing I’m not looking for a respectable man, then—or really any man—I think but don’t voice. The only man who has my attention is probably at home, either destroying my Minecraft house and killing all my pigs, or jacking off to gay porn—because he’s gay. Yep, it would figure that the only man who really sees me and understands me swings the other way.
“Ma’am, the gentleman over there saw your glass is empty and ordered you another,” a waitress says, handing me a new drink.
“Oh, Mia, it looks like you have an admirer.” Jade giggles, nodding to her left. I follow her line of vision, landing on a guy leaning against the bar sipping on his whiskey.
His eyes meet mine, and the corners of his lips curl into a sexy smirk. It’s not smarmy like that douche Brayden, but instead playful. Even from across the room, he exudes confidence, but it’s clear he isn’t cocky. He knows he’s good-looking, but he isn’t arrogant.
“He’s cute,” Sasha muses, envy and jealousy in her tone. Sasha’s entire purpose in life, and her reason for going to college at the prestigious Atlantic Pointe University, one of the most elite and expensive colleges in Michigan, is to find a rich man who will take care of her, just like her daddy does. “And, if I’m not mistaken, wearing Ralph Lauren,” she adds.
It’s actually Tom Ford. I noticed the distinctive cut immediately, but I don’t point that out. It would only raise questions I have no desire to answer. What Sasha sees is what she gets. I don’t give any more than what it takes to fit in. I save the real me for Ashton.
The good-looking man raises his glass, silently letting me know the ball is in my court. I can raise mine back, thanking him for the drink, or—
“Mia,” Tori hisses. “You better go over there before another woman claims him.”
Without giving myself time to overthink this, I allow my feet to take me over to him. When I get closer, I notice his hair is dirty-blond, trimmed neatly on the sides and slightly longer on top. His eyes are a shockingly bright blue. And his watch that’s peeking out from under his suit jacket is Vacheron Constantin, priced at twenty-five thousand dollars. I know that because my mother bought one for my father after he caught her cheating on him with her co-star and she needed to smooth things over. My heart squeezes at the thought of my dad. I haven’t seen him in several months and I miss him like crazy.
“Thank you for the drink,” I tell him, stepping into his space. I’m so out of my element here, but maybe this is just what I need—not a
