Our door opened, and a valet held out his hand to help me out of the car. “Ma’am.”
Mason didn’t let me take the offered hand, instead he got out first and shooed the valet away. He then helped me out of the car and once I was standing outside, he placed my hand in the crook of his arm.
Music was drifting through the air, the piano playing a familiar tune. The Connors liked tradition. Boring tradition, but tradition nonetheless. Nothing ever changed at these events. Even the napkins were exactly the same, which made this worse because I knew what was coming.
I bit my lip again, already resigned to the fact that I would have to reapply my lipstick a few times tonight. What the hell was I even doing here? This wasn’t me anymore. And it never had been.
Mason put his hand on mine. “Come on, princess, let’s get this over with.”
“Yeah, let’s,” I answered and closed my fingers around his arm even tighter. His presence was like an anchor, stopping me from floating away amongst the fake tans and polished diamonds I’d be looking at once inside.
Mason wasn’t dressed for an elegant dinner, but I couldn’t care less. I loved him in his jeans and a T-shirt, especially when it was his favorite Ramones shirt that fit tight over his chest and arms.
But if I knew one thing about Mason, it was that he had unwavering self-confidence. He was unapologetic about who he was and what he wanted. If I had to pick anyone to come with me tonight, it would have been him.
“Fuck me, this place is a castle,” Mason said as soon as we stepped inside. And the only thing he could see so far was the entry hall. It was huge, a waste of space, and it was also tacky, but it was impressive, thanks to the abundance of marble, gold, and mahogany.
“It wears off quickly.”
Especially since living here came with a set of iron rules.
“Right,” he chuckled. “So where to?”
I tugged on his arm, and he followed me through a door to the right. The best thing would be to let go of him. There was no way my mother would be okay with Mason being here—and it was becoming impossible for me to walk even a step without touching him. She’d know what he meant to me as soon as she saw us.
“Dinner is served in the dining hall.” I pointed to a door at the other end of the grand ballroom. “This is the room we have to get through so we can sit down and pretend to love the food and not talk to anyone.”
Mason walked a few steps inside and looked around the vast space. It was filled with people, but they did nothing to distract from the crystal chandeliers, gilded mirrors, and velvet curtains. If anything, the expensive gowns most of the women wore only complemented the designs of the room. I wondered what Mason thought of all this excess.
“Well, that’s a lot of gold. Guess if you ever run out of money, you can just start melting candle holders and mirror frames,” he remarked.
I smiled at his remark, feeling that I could get through tonight as long as he was there. I was trying to figure out how to best make my way across the room undetected, when I heard a voice that froze me.
“Darling, so glad you made it.”
I was pulled away from Mason and into the arms of my stepfather. I swallowed a mouth full of his hair when I tried to gasp for breath. He squeezed me hard, and I nearly drowned in the perfume cloud that always followed him wherever he went.
“Now aren’t you going to introduce me to your date?” he asked, not letting go of my hand. I hated when he touched me. He had tried kissing me a few times before I moved out. If you had boobs, he would hit on you. But he was always discreet with his affairs and devoted to my mother’s career, the only thing she cared about, so she let him do what he wanted.
He appraised Mason with a narrowed gaze and a once-over.
“Mason, this is Leighton—” I started but was cut off by my mother, who was now beside her husband.
“I hope this isn’t your date,” she said, not looking at me. Her eyes were on Mason, and it was clear that she found him lacking.
“Hello, Mother. May I introduce you to Mason Drake.”
Neither Mason nor my mother made any move to shake hands or acknowledge each other with anything else than disapproving glares.
“He needs to go. Now,” my mother said, her voice tightly controlled. She didn’t want anyone to overhear our conversation, but I knew she was angry when I saw her hands tapping her thighs in rapid succession.
“If you want me to stay, then so will Mason.”
“Should have gotten rid of you when I had the chance,” she muttered. Not the first time she’d slung an insult like this one at me. I barely flinched.
She turned around and stalked away, dragging her husband with her.
Mason turned to me and studied my face. “What the fuck? You okay?” he asked, his voice heavy with concern.
“I’m fine. It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”
I might have expected my mother to be a bitch tonight, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less. My armor of choice was sarcastic comments and jokes. But I had nothing at the moment, feeling deflated and embarrassed Mason heard her comments.
“I’m sorry she was rude to you,” I said, studying my toes.
Mason turned to face me and lifted my chin up. “Don’t you dare apologize for her. And I wasn’t really the one she insulted. You deserve so much
