by Shel Stone
Unease crept along Cecily’s back. There was also no doubt that he made her uncomfortable and nervous. There was something so… She couldn’t even put words to what it was. “Why does everyone warn me about him?”
Tory bit her lip. “He just, you know, does what he wants. He can be really harsh.”
“Harsh how?”
Now she shrugged. “Not so much anymore, I guess, because he’s chilled a bit, but he could be quite cruel. There was this girl he had it in for a while back, this was a couple of years back, until she left. I mean, she’d done something quite shady and tried to lie about it.”
“And what did he do?”
“I don’t know, but he called her out, and the more she tried to lie about it, the more intense he got. Hates liars. Or more people who pretend they’re things they’re not and this place is littered with them. People turn up here, rolling in money, thinking it’s going to buy them in. It doesn’t.”
In a sense, Cecily knew what Tory was referring to. There was a mechanism for keeping people out, and it seemed Adrian was part of that mechanism. Could be that his interest in her was to check her out for that reason, to see if she was an interloper in their rarefied strata.
“Whatever,” Cecily said. It wasn’t as if she cared about belonging with his crowd. She had her crowd and she was heading back there as soon as she could. So if he was a sentinel for guarding the gates to the ‘in crowd,’ he could count her out. Then again, she might lose the friends she tentatively had, and being the outcast without any friends would suck.
She didn’t want to be in, but she didn’t want to be out either. Well, maybe Adrian had made his decision, because he utterly ignored her now. Maybe that was the perfect medium she was looking for.
“And also, he used to be quite the slut. Never really did the girlfriend thing, you know? In fact, all of them. All the guys in this school are just dogs. Seriously, if you have some nice Euro boy stashed away somewhere, stick with that. The guys in New York are assholes. God, am I too young to be this bitter? Fuck, I have to go to class. I’ll see you after school, okay?”
As she watched, Tory took off and Cecily had to think hard where she was supposed to be. Her schedule wasn’t firm in her mind yet. Advanced French. Well, at least that should be an easy class for her. French, German and Italian were all stock and trade where she’d been living.
*
The brightly lit cosmetics counters were manned by gorgeous women with perfectly made up faces.
“Do you use a primer?” Tory asked. They were still in their uniforms, and the women behind the counters knew those uniforms. They seemed to smile extra brightly. One thing Cecily wasn’t quite used to was the eagerness of American retail staff. It was a different story in Europe. You just got used to surly staff and they seemed more so the higher up the food chain you shopped.
“No,” Cecily admitted.
“You don’t need to. You’ve got gorgeous skin.”
“I rarely use foundation. I break out.”
“So that’s the trick?”
“I just don’t like how it feels.”
“Ugh, I’m so bored,” Tory complained. “I always hate this period when summer’s over and you haven’t quite got into the not summer mood, you know? Are you going to come to yoga?”
“I haven’t got any gear.”
“We can just buy some,” Tory pointed out. Her phone pinged and she got absorbed in it. With a sigh, Cecily looked outside at the darkening streets, where city workers were making their way home. The streets were busy as they always were.
“Holy fuck,” Tory said. “It’s Mishti. She’s inviting us to Tribute tonight.” Tory looked up with shocked eyes.
“Is that a bar?”
“I mean, it’s a bar, but it’s more who’s inviting us. Sebastian Hawke.”
Of course Cecily knew who Sebastian Hawke was. The flirt of that group, Adrian’s group.
“This is big,” Tory said. “It’s Tuesday.”
“So?”
“So they usually only hang with themselves during the week, you know?”
With a frown, Tory was looking down at her phone again, scrolling through.
“This is like deliberate. Basically an invitation. This has got to do with you.”
“Me?”
“Why else would they be inviting us? Adrian has a thing for you.”
“Or he’s just concluded that I don’t belong in this school and I am to be excluded,” Cecily said tartly.
“No, he would have done that at school.”
Okay, she had been kidding, but Tory obviously had taken it in all seriousness.
“I thought we were going to yoga?” Cecily said.
“Fuck yoga. You know how often this happens? Never.”
“For two weeks I’ve been sitting listening to you all say what assholes these guys are.”
“Okay firstly, you have to harden up a bit. Also, you’re here to get into an ivy league school. Well, your crowd matters, and this crowd matters. Don’t turn your nose up at opportunities like this.”
“I didn’t mean to…” Cecily started, not quite knowing how to deal with this admonishment, “offend.”
“No offence, but you really are clueless sometimes.”
Since when was choosing not to hang with assholes clueless?
“We need clothes, now.”
They walked from the cosmetics sections to the clothes, Tory going through the racks quickly and expertly, until she had a dress for herself and one for Cecily. They were nice. It wasn’t completely her style, but it looked good.
Somewhere in all this, she wondered if her dad would be angry that she went to a bar. They were pretty strict here with age limits. Things were much more lax in Europe. Still, probably a good idea not to turn up in a school uniform.
And within an hour, they were getting out of a cab in front of a bar. It was nice, chic design with charcoal grey interiors, set up a little like an English library, except everything was grey, including a replica springbok head over the mantel. Interesting.
The guys from school were sitting in the back corner around a low table with large, grey cushions. Audrina was already there, looking nice in a white and gold dress, sipping on a drink. Funnily, out of all the girls, she had clicked least with Audrina, even though they were related. She was probably closest with Tory, and then Mishti.
Mishti looked super skinny in her dress and she came and sat down. Of course, Adrian was there wearing black pants and a light shirt. He looked older than he was. A bottle of champagne sat on the table. A Veuve Clicquot Reserve. Someone knew their champagne. A glass was handed to her and the light bubbles played on her tongue.
Looking around, she surveyed the scene. Sebastian and Zayn were talking about something without paying attention to anyone there. And Adrian, his attention was on her. Cecily felt her cheeks color with the attention.
Chapter 7
CECILY LOOKED A LITTLE uneasy as she sat in her dress with a champagne glass in hand, looking around the scene. There was something very guarded about her, and Adrian wondered where that stemmed from. Beyond a doubt, she was raised differently from many of the girls in New York.
“So why were you banished to the wilds of Switzerland?” he asked and her eyes flicked to him.
“My heritage is European.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I guess that they wanted me to develop a sense closer to my roots.”
“Sounds like a lie. Sounds more like you were banished.”
The look in her eyes showed she wasn’t impressed, which made him wonder if it was close to the truth.
“Well, that suddenly makes you more interesting. Closet bad girl under those trapping of ‘I would never!’ Because you look positively angelic.”
A blush stained her cheeks. No, she wasn’t one of the jaded and entitle-to-the-core girls from Carterton Academy. Only indignified rage made them color. And granted, he’d seen that a time or two. In fact, there had b
een a time when he’d specialized in it, seeing it as him doing the world a favor by bringing these bitches down a peg or two. And a lot of them had called him misogynistic. It was what they fell back on when their own bad behavior wasn’t overlooked. Then again, maybe he was, somewhere along the varied nuances of it.
“So, Cecily Chambers, what are you into?”
“Disney princesses,” she said with challenge. There was a bit of strength in her. Or was that entitlement speaking?
“Looking for a prince to come rescue you? Good luck with that.”
“I figure there’s got to be one out there.”
“Or you’re setting yourself up for a life of delusion. The kind to buy everything your cheating husband tells you, as long as he brings you flowers and jewelry.”
“Maybe I have the foresight to spot a frog when I see one.” Her eyebrow rose and she took a sip of her champagne.
A smile spread across his lips. It seemed Cecily Chambers liked to spar. Somehow, she hadn’t been indoctrinated in the ubiquitous culture of fear that haunted the halls of Carterton Academy. This whole city ran on social inclusion. It was the only currency that mattered. Wealth got you a ticket to play, but there were other things that mattered when the game was on.
“So, what does your family do?” he asked, wondering if she was aware who he was and what her father had done to his.
“Finance,” she said without any intonation.
“Sounds exciting.”
She didn’t ask him in return.
“So, what have your friends said about me?” he asked.
For a moment, it seemed that she wasn’t going to speak. “That you’re an asshole and anyone in their right mind would stay away from you.”
“Ah. Well, there’s that. Do you think they would stay away given the chance?”
The look in her eyes told him the truth. She knew that none of the girls would pass up the chance of hanging with him—sleep with him.
Truthfully, he liked that she was a little reticent and wary. It made this more interesting.
“Oh, I see,” he said. “You’re just biding your time here until you can return. Is that it?” Again the truth showed in her eyes. “Well, Manhattan gets under your skin. Didn’t anyone tell you that? So what, you’re going to return to Europe and marry some dyed-in-the-wool blueblood?” He smiled. This girl couldn’t lie to save her life.
“Her grandfather’s a duke,” the girl beside her said. Tory. Adrian had never paid that much attention to her—had never had reason to. And truthfully, he’d respected Tory’s brother too much to mess with the little sis.
“Is that so? Guess you’re more ingrained than I gave you credit for. A bonafide duchess.”
“I’m not a duchess.”
“For all your intents, you kind of get absorbed. Everyone gets drawn in. And we’re not quite as cut off as you might think. There are overlaps.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.
Leaning back, he put his feet on the table. He didn’t answer. So, unlike so many others, she wasn’t rushing in with some ludicrous notion that she was going to take New York. No, much too guarded.
Pulling out his phone, he levelled it and took a photo of her.
“What was that for?” she asked. Well, she wasn’t entirely disinterested. There was curiosity there, even thought she was highly defensive.
“Just because,” he said and put the phone away again. Then it was time to move and he stood. Stepping closer to her, he held out his hand. “You coming, Duchess?”
“Where to?”
“Does it matter?” Everyone else followed cue and stood. It was time to move on to the next bar. “Maybe you should see a little of the city you’ve moved into before passing judgment.”
“It’s not like I’ve never been here before.”
“You’ve never been here with me.”
A frown marred her eyebrows.
Her friend nudged her in the side and she looked over to Tory, who gave her meaningful glances. It certainly didn’t hurt that her friends would all be pushing her toward him. Well, maybe not all of them, but Tory and Mishti, at least. He wasn’t so sure about Morgan and Audrina. Audrina might be the problem. As of yet, he had little understanding of the relationship between them, beyond Audrina taking Cecily under her wing. Family relationships could always be tricky.
Finally, Cecily stood, but she didn’t take his extended hand. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“We’re heading south.”
“Thank fuck,” Sebastian said, who was always eager to head to seedier parts of town.
As they got out into the cool fall air, a car waited for them. It definitely wouldn’t fit all of them. Adrian opened the door and waited for Cecily to enter. Then he followed and Zayn came after. Sebastian took the front seat. And then there wasn’t room. Finn and the other girls stood outside questioningly. What was there to question? The seats were occupied.
“Seems like the others won’t fit,” he said as Cecily looked worried, not happy about going off alone in a car with three guys.
“But how will they find us? Shouldn’t we go together?”
“Won’t fit. Zayn said.”
“Unless you want to squeeze in. You’ll have to sit in my lap.”
With blinking eyes, she looked at him for a moment. Clearly torn, when so many would have absolutely jumped at the chance. Now it was a matter to see how badly she wanted not to leave her friends behind.
Leaning close to her ear, he said, “Don’t you trust me, Duchess?”
“Should I?”
He smiled. “Absolutely not. So? Squeeze in or not?”
“I think everyone should go,” she said, waving for the girls to get in.
“Shift up,” he said and moved over when she did, until she settled down on his lap. Well, couldn’t complain how the night was turning out. For a while, he’d feared progress would be crazily slow with her, but here they were. She sat with her back against the window and his hand rested on her bare thigh. The familiar tug of desire started its slow burn.
It would be a lie to say it was entirely unexpected.
There was way too much giggling in the car. The tone seemed to change as they drove through the streets down to Soho. Rain splattered fat drops on the dark windowpanes. But mostly, Adrian was distracted with the weight of her on his thighs. Awkwardly, she was trying to keep some semblance of distance between them, which was hard to do in the tight confines of a car when sitting on his lap.
After some time, they reach their destination, which looked little more than a dark alley. This time, he opened the door on their side and held onto her waist as he shifted himself out and stood. Now they were flush against each other. Carefully, he dropped her down.
Concern grew on her face as she looked around. Not what she’d expected, and she looked at him questioningly.
“Uhm,” she started. The others were walking ahead into the darkness and she watched them go. She looked back at the car as if considering whether she should dive in and escape.
“Scared?”
“No,” she said, the lie written on her features.
The others were getting away from them, and then the car pulled away. She no longer had a choice. Adrian started walking toward the entrance to the club they were going to. “Not the kind of neighborhood you want to go wandering around on your own,” he called, turning back to her again. “Especially not in a dress like that.”
It urged her to hurry up and join him. “I’m so glad I came along,” she stated sarcastically. “Not sure I would’ve if I’d known you were taking me to some back alley.”
“Sometimes you have to search for the good places.” The others had already gone inside, but to her it must seem like they’d just disappeared. “This way,” he said with a smile, leading her to the steel door and knocking on it. It opened and light spilled out, as did the pounding music. The bouncer took a look at him and stepped aside.
Her eyes were large a
s they walked inside and down a narrow stairway decorated exclusively with graffiti. “Not the kind of place you were used to hanging in?” he asked. From the look of her Instagram, it really wasn’t. Yacht clubs, country houses and Alp chalets. Maybe she wasn’t so different from the girls in Carterton Academy after all, if this was too much for her to handle.
The club was just a room in the basement, with a band, a makeshift bar and graffiti. And in the time from getting here from the car, Sebastian was already tonsils deep in with some girl with black hair, piercings and tats.
“Drink?” he asked.
“Uhm, sure,” she said, her eyes scanning the place, a mix of repulsion and fascination.
“Never been this close to the proletariat?”
This time she gave him a dirty look. “I don’t normally crawl around dark alleys looking for drinking establishments.”
“Maybe you need to expand your horizons.”
Chapter 8
THE PHOTO ADRIAN TOOK was on his social. Just her sitting with a champagne glass in hand. A bit of a candid photo, because she wasn’t smiling. And frankly, she had no idea why he would post that, or what it meant. But it felt as if it meant something—she just didn’t know what.
The evening had ended after watching a band for a while. Morgan and Tory had been dancing, while Audrina had been chatting with Finn, looking really cozy along one of the walls. Morgan wasn’t too happy about it, Cecily had noted.
Adrian hadn’t left her and they’d just listened to music for a while. It was a band she’d never heard of. And the people around—definitely not part of her usual crowd. It had been fascinating just to watch people.
Checking herself in the mirror, she straightened her uniform and left her bedroom. Consuela and the terrors were in the breakfast nook when she reached the kitchen. Their apartment actually had two kitchens. One for the family to use if that was ever going to happen, and also where the breakfast nook was, and another where the staff actually cooked food.
“You want some eggs on toast?” Consuela asked, checking her watch. There wasn’t time for it.