by Mallory Fox
But try pulling back from a man who is six foot two and built like the Titanic. He tightens his hold, wrapping himself around me and into the confines of his overcoat. He looks down at me, his bold blue eyes searing the life back into mine.
Shit.
I’m going to drown in his depths if I’m not careful.
“Pearl, you’re not going anywhere.”
Bergamot and citrus fills my lungs as I inhale nothing but him. I have an urge to curl up and go to sleep in his arms.
“Why do you have to choose weird places?”
He raises a brow. “Weird?”
“You accost me at bars and hot tub parties?”
“They seem to be the only place I can get you alone.”
“Why do you need me alone?” I ask with a sigh, giving in to fully lean into him and the heat and hardness of his body. I must admit, he feels like coming home.
He doesn’t say anything, instead picks me up and carries me inside to one of the chalets. This one is quieter, less raucous, but the party is clearly still ongoing. He carries on, walking though the chalet until he gets to the front hallway where the staircase is.
And just when I think he’s going to take me upstairs and take me like promised, he carries me through the front door and out the other side.
“Where are we going?” My words come out sloppy and sleepy. I’m done. I don’t care anymore.
“We’re going home.”
I nod, shutting my eyes, allowing the world dissolve away into dreams, knowing that if Seth wants to do something to me while I’m comatose, I honestly don’t mind at all.
Chapter 9
Pearl
I find Seth in the library before I get there, books open at the ready. The chair next to him is vacant but I choose to sit opposite. Not that I don’t trust him or anything but I prefer to look directly at someone when I’m interrogating them.
It’s been almost a week since the Apres Ski incident.
When I woke up the next day I was safely tucked up in my bed. Someone had changed me into my pajamas and it wasn’t me. The ones chosen were the ones my step-mother gave me one Christmas which I never wore. I’d left them out ready to give to charity. Seth must have assumed they were the ones I’d usually wear for bed and dressed me in them.
The thought of Seth undressing me, even if he did leave my underwear on, was enough to make me crawl under the duvet and stay in bed all day, missing Denise’s bottomless brunch at Searcy’s.
Not that I would have gone. After Davis acted like a dick at the party, the last thing I want to do is see Claudine’s witch-like face and sit through hours of her moaning about her weight. I’m not even sure Flick went and haven’t see her much this week to ask her. Rumors are she hooked up with a butler and has been shacking at his place ever since.
And Seth, he hasn’t been around the house either.
It’s been like living with a ghost. Not that I’m complaining. It’s been a great week of catching up on assignments and getting ahead with the end of term event project. I’m pretty sure I have a theme, guest list and charity decided, now I just need a location and sponsor so I can send out the invites. It will be the easiest credit I’ve earned all year.
Seeing Seth now, after my embarrassing moment on the terrace with him, has me blushing like crazy as he looks up, catching my eye.
I was less embarrassed after the cloakroom incident because I was seducing Seth. I was in control. But with the drugs in my system I could have said anything in the chalet and I wouldn’t know. I was not, in anyway shape or form, in the driving seat.
I focus on opening my bag and taking out my books.
“So how do you want to take this one?” I ask him. Not really caring since I’m about to change tracks and partner with Flick. Not that he needs to know that yet. I’ll tell him as soon as my application is approved.
We agreed to meet once a week for the dual assignment study sessions. We could work at home now that we live together, but I prefer the public nature of the library. At the lake house I take as much effort as I can to avoid being alone with Seth.
Even though he ‘rescued’ me, and carried me safely home, I’m still wary of his motives. Well, not wary, I know what his motives are as he told me. I’m just wary of what he’s telling me is true. I ruined his life. How can he only be back for his half of the company. Why not take everything? Or at least try to?
“Do you trust me to take this half of it?” It’s such an odd thing to say, especially where my mind is at, that I nod my head when I realize I do.
I trust him not to screw himself over. It’s his future too on the line, and I can’t see him sabotaging his own career just to mess with me.
But do I trust him to take only half of my company?
“Then let’s split each one straight down the middle going forward. We each do half and turn it in at the end of the year. You can choose which half. That way you can work alone and at your own pace from now on. Win, win.”
I narrow my eyes at him. It feels too easy. Still, I can’t see how he can screw me over, not without screwing himself. “Sure,” I say.
I’m equally shocked when he starts packing his things away and gets to his feet.
“Where are you going?”
He shrugs. “We’ve agreed a strategy. There’s no point in me staying. You avoid me at every turn so it’s obvious I make you uncomfortable to be alone with me.” He picks up his bag and slings it over his shoulder. “See you around Pearl.”
It’s only when he’s long gone that I remember the reason I sat facing him in the first place. I was going to ask him the questions that have been weighing on my mind ever since I flew to London to speak with Sully. I need to know the details of his claim.
But I’ve no idea how to find out without coming out and just asking him.
I’ll have to try and pin him down tomorrow. For a guy who shares every class, assignment, and living space with me, I sure as hell have trouble finding him. Seth Darlington alive still manages to be a ghost.
When Flick finally comes home, she is in a foul mood. I try to study but I can’t, not when she decides to relieve her misery on the lake house by slamming every door and banging every cupboard. When she lets rip a banshee like scream, I give up and make my way to her room, peeking my head around the door.
“Are you okay?”
Flick looks up from where she is sitting on her floor, tears streaming down her perfect face, surrounded by all her rich girl paraphernalia; designer clothes, designer make-up, and designer accessories. Enough to fill a department store.
“No, I’m so ugly,” she says, wiping at her eyes making them black as she smudges her mascara.
“You’re not ugly Flick.”
“Of course I am, the bastard cheated on me.”
“Who?”
“Fucking Charlie, that’s who,” she wails.
I blink my eyes at her, wreaking my brains at who the hell Charlie is.
“The bare-assed butler?”
When she nods I sigh and sweep into the room to give my best friend a big hug. I don’t bring up that they were dating for little over a week, or that he’s a butler. She’s way out of his league and she doesn’t even know it.
When Flick falls, she falls hard. On top of that she tends to go for guys who are just fucktards waiting to happen. All that matters is that I’m there for her when she does fall.
“Why can’t they just like me for me? Why do they always have to to turn out to be bastards.”
“Not all men are bastards,” I lie.
“Not to you, look at you. You’re perfect while I’m just fucking… plastic.” She gestures to her bee stung lips and perfectly shaped breasts. I’ve never seen the allure of plastic surgery preferring my own natural look, so I never understood why Flick felt the need to go under the knife.
“You’re not plastic, Flick. You wanted to improve on your assets and you have. Nothing wrong with that. It’s your heart of gold that matters.”
/> “My pot of gold, you mean…” she mumbles.
“Ha no, I mean the real you. The kind, sweet, loyal Felicity we all know and love. My best friend who will eat ice cream with me when I’m miserable even if it puts pounds on her thighs.”
She smiles, looking up at me. “Ice cream? Do we have cookies and cream?”
“I can do one better, we have pistachio butter melt with hot fudge sauce.”
“Sold.”
I dish out the dessert while Flick washes her face in the bathroom before joining me for the late night feast, then it’s like she wasn’t gone for a whole week.
But every time I try to tell Flick about my stalled inheritance, I can’t. If I lose the lake house would she come with me? Or would she stay here with Seth?
Would he even let her?
I don’t ever want to think what would happen if I can’t stay at La Roche. The fees are astronomical. And what about my family?
What about…
The guilty feeling sweeps inside of me again.
I can’t think about her. Not right now.
Without a stiff drink, it’s hard to let all my fucked up thoughts dissolve away. I try to focus on sharing gossip and ice cream with Flick. I try real hard, using the ice cream to soothe away the hollowness I feel inside, when the door opens and Seth walks in.
Flick and I stop immediately stop and stare. He’s covered dirt and leaves, like he’s been rolling around in the bushes.
His eye brows raise when we sees the huge selection of desserts and sauces but when I give him my usual ‘what the fuck do you want’ stare, he walks straight past us and into the bathroom. When he emerges a few moments later, freshly showered and changed, the conversation in the room dies a death again.
Flick averts her eyes and digs at the slush in her bowl. I shoot him an evil look and swallow a spoonful of pistachio goodness.
As Seth retreats to his room, Flick nudges me.
“What?” Her puppy dog eyes are the worst. “Oh for Ben & Jerry’s sake, Seth come join us.”
Two seconds later, he has a bowl and is scooping a single lump of plain vanilla into it. I try listen while Seth and Flick chat away. I’m also trying to ignore how his t-shirt sticks to his chest now his skin is damp, defining the contours of the muscles he keeps hidden under his clothes.
His hair is wet, making it darker, bringing out the blue of his eyes and the duskiness of his lashes. No guy should have lashes that long or thick. Naturally, they’re longer than mine and when he smiles, they flutter.
I could watch him smile all day. I even love watching him eat ice cream. A desire kiss him softly, tasting his lips straight after he eats the cold, vanilla cream, has me blushing like crazy.
“We’d be up for that, wouldn’t we Pearl?”
Flick was saying something and I wasn’t listening.
“What?”
She narrows her eyes, while Seth smirks and carries on spooning soft vanilla ice into his mouth. Heat blossoms between my legs, making me squirm.
Shit. This is why I was avoiding him. I don’t seem to have control of my hormones when I’m around him.
“Seth is going to France for mid-term break. I know you mentioned going home but Paris could be fun.”
I catch Seth’s eyes and he doesn’t look away. “France? Which part of France?” I hope it’s not Paris, because even though it’s just a city I stayed in over the summer for my internship, to build up a network of business contacts, I see Paris as mine.
“Marseille and then Monaco.”
“Monaco isn’t France.”
“No, I have business to attend there,” he says, not breaking eye contact. When he doesn’t elaborate on what business, I decide to ask outright.
“What kind of business?”
“Family business. A wedding. You and Flick are welcome to come along.”
There’s a tightness in my chest when he says ‘family’ as though I’m not part of that. “A Montford wedding?” My question comes out before I can stop it. Seth’s mother was a Montfort before she was a Darlington. Seth’s family have never liked me. I highly doubt they’d want me there.
“One of my cousins, twice removed or whatever it’s called these days. I’m allowed to bring a guest or two. No-one will mind if it’s you. I did check before I invited you both.”
He stresses the ‘both’.
“Oh Pearl, let’s go! A French wedding will mean vintage booze and loads of single, sexy men for us to flirt with.”
“Why would a wedding be full of single men?”
“Weddings are full of single men. It’s a thing.” She practically bounces in her seat as she looks at Seth. “Is it in a castle?”
“It is actually.” He smiles at Flick, a genuine warm smile I’ve never ever seen him direct at me. It hurts my chest to watch him be so nice to Flick when his demeanor toward me is always so cold at times.
Not all the time.
“Please Pearl, can we go.”
“Sure. Why not. Can we stop in Paris on the way there?”
“I don’t see why not.”
Paris, and making Flick happy, are the only reasons I’m saying yes. There’s one person in Paris who can solve at least one of my problems for me. And since I’m grounded from making solo trips, unable to use the family jet alone, having Seth make the request… the board is sure to approve it.
It might also be a chance to ask Seth what he’s playing at.
“Do you think he’s still working for the military?” Flick asks me, a few days later, on the way to the lecture hall for our only shared class of the week. “He was covered in leaves and dirt the other night. Do you think he was on a mission?”
“Who? Seth?”
“Yes, Seth. God Pearl. You’re always in Lala land these days.”
She’s not wrong, I’ve been caught up worrying about the updates I’ve been receiving from Sullivan on the board’s decision. That they haven’t made one yet worries me. I’m twenty one in two weeks, the age I’m meant to officially inherit everything. I’m on track to get a first with honors, never mind a 2.1. There shouldn’t be any reason to stall and I don’t like that a couple of deep-faked videos and a bogus claim from my step-brother can cause such problems.
Once I’m chairman, I’ll be looking closely at who needs to go. I can’t have half the board not siding with me on every point. It’s my name on the company logo after all.
I’ve also got a location to find and soon, or fall will be over and winter will be here and all the venues will be booked out for the holidays. Part of the challenge is to be able to plan and host the event at short notice. Who do we know who can helps smooth things over? What strings can we pull?
Students with the most cash to throw around can’t even take the advantage. Every student needs to demonstrate they have stayed within budget, that said, most of my rivals are not above bribery. As long as they don’t get caught, who would find out?
I don’t plan to bribe anyone. I shouldn’t need to. I also don’t have any money now my inheritance account is frozen.
But the Darlington name precedes itself, that and all I have to do is is mention who I am and doors open. But I shouldn’t wait too long or all the best locations will be gone.
Of all the venues, there is one I want that would blow the rest of the events hosted by students this year and all prior years out of the water. But getting it will be difficult… it’s not even finished.
I also need to be in Paris to confirm the booking.
“What do you think of the Knife’s Edge Tower?”
“What’s that got to do with Seth?”
“Nothing at all. I’m changing the subject.” I have no interest in gossiping about Seth’s private life, unless it involves Darlington.
“Knife’s Edge Tower in Paris?” Flick’s brow furrows. “It’s daring, to build something so modern in a city so idyllic. I hear it will be breath-taking though, an architectural triumph.”
“You know who owns it right?”
<
br /> “Of course I do, the French fucking mafia!”
“Hush, keep it down.” I chide. We’re in the lecture hall now and Flick is being so loud the whole class can hear every word. Claudine looks up from her seat in the row in front. We’ve been avoiding each other since the chalet party which suits me fine, but every so often I catch her shooting me dirty looks.
“Why?” Flick whispers as the lecturer walks in.
“Why what?”
“Why are you asking about the Tower?”
I hesitate before telling Flick. I don’t want everyone knowing what location I’m planning my event at before I’ve sent the invites, but not trusting Flick is the reason we argued in the first place.
“Keep it to yourself but I want to host my main event there, for the winter hospitality challenge.”
Flick’s mouth opens into an O. “Are you insane? Why not the Winchester?”
Why not, indeed? The Winchester is the Darlington’s crown jewel, our flagship hotel in the heart of London. Hosting it there would be so much easier. But, I don’t want easy. I want spectacular, I want to wow the board so they’ll see that I’m so much better at this hotel business than Seth. Plus, I have an ace up my sleeve.
“I know Levi Baudelaire.”
“Levi Baudelaire? As in the son of the French mafia, Baudelaire? The arrogant but gorgeous blond, silver-eyed devil with the Midas touch, Baudelaire”
“The very same.”
Flick sighs and shakes her head. “It’s beginning to make sense why you want to go to Paris now. I hope you know what you’re doing Pearl. I really do.”
I don’t answer, because the lecture has started and this is the part that will be on the test, and because some things are better left unsaid.
I stare at the test again, just incase it’s wrong. There should be one blue line if it’s negative. Just one blue line. Instead, there’s two.
Two bright, bold, blue fucking lines.
There’s a tightness in my chest and a dull ache in my gut as I stare at it, willing one of them to go away. When it doesn’t I dig out the packet to check the instructions, and then refer back to the strip.