Heart of Gold

by Michaela Haze

  “What are you doing?” Nate repeated as he sauntered over to the car and rested his elbow on the roof.

  “Errands.” I replied. Again. Did anyone ever listen? Tedious.

  Nate rolled his eyes and looked to Julian for more information. “Captain Syllable there ain’t giving me nothing. Try that again?”

  “If you want to come along, you're more than welcome.” Julian bounced in his seat with excitement.

  Nate let out a hoot of a laugh but slipped into the backseat without another word.

  We drove to Gwen Bell’s office. The same Gwen Bell that we all knew as Sticky Aka Sheriff Bell's daughter. We didn't talk about the 'graduation incident’ or the 'Winter Formal debacle;’ it was an unwritten rule.

  The nickname 'Sticky' wasn’t for any untoward reason, but simply because everyone always said that she ‘had a stick up her ass’. Gwen had earned the name in high school and it had stuck.

  Julian had an ulterior motive for getting Nate along for the ride.

  Gwen Bell and our brother Nate Gold did not get on. At all.

  It was rather amusing.

  I pulled up outside of the newly painted antebellum house on the outskirts of town. The swinging sign advertised the Bell B&B, which was one of the only places to stay in town. Gwen’s office was around the back, in a newly built bungalow across the rose garden.

  “You fucking tricked me.” Nate’s voice had lost its typical growl but instead was measured and thus menacing.

  I straightened my tie and stepped out of the car. Julian laughed like a drain as he darted out of the vehicle and out of Nate’s reach. Our middle brother skipped up the steps to Gwen’s office like a sprite.

  I turned back to my youngest brother, who had gotten out of the Porsche and rested against the side of the car with one leg crossed over the other. He took out his packet of cigarettes and pulled one out with his teeth. He said nothing as he eyed the house like it was his worst enemy.

  “You coming?” I drawled.

  Nate lit his cigarette and shook his head, causing the white stick that was dangling from his lips to move from side to side.

  I shrugged and pushed open the screen door. I was greeted with air conditioning and a bouquet of pink roses as big as a golden retriever. Julian was rubbing the petals in between his fingers with a secretive smile on his face.

  I rang the bell on Gwen’s desk. “I’ll be with you in a minute!” She called.

  “What are you doing to that rose, Jules?” I asked in a low voice, saturated with disgust. “Thinking of taking up floristry?”

  “Have a feel.” He nudged my shoulder with his.

  I quirked a brow. “Why?”

  “Just do it.”

  “No.”

  Julian sighed and leant over, never taking his fingers from the apex of the bouquet of flowers. “These petals feel soft. Like pussy lips.” Julian whispered, like it was a conspiracy. He had the maturity level of a grade schooler. If that.

  “Bless your heart.” I replied with a drawl as Gwen strolled from out the back holding a golden filigree binder, full of sheet music.

  Her eyes flicked from Julian’s to mine, and then she handed over the folder as if it was a poisonous snake. “Get out.” She said stiffly.

  I blinked slowly, startled. Julian barely contained a snort.

  “But, Gwen, I need an answer to a very important question.” Julian teased. He leant forward and dragged his finger down the seam of her jaw.

  Gwen’s teeth clenched and her gray eyes sparkled with what I could only assume was murderous rage. She straightened her blazer and turned stiffly, without a word. Sitting in her office chair with all the poise of the queen.

  “And what would that question be, Julian Gold?” Gwen asked without looking at either of us as she typed away on her computer.

  Jules shifted and sat on the edge of her desk. “Will you join me for dinner?” He leant forwards her and tugged a tendril of her hair. She swatted his hand away as if he was a fly.

  “Go and take the sheet music to your mother.” Gwen replied simply. “I’ve had enough of the Gold’s today.”

  I snorted a laugh and gripped Julian by the elbow, to manoeuvre him out of the office. “Come on, Casanova.” I said as I tugged him down the steps and to the car.

  Nate had finished his cigarette when we got back to the Porsche, but instead of throwing the butt on the path, he ground out the flame and then put it in his pocket.

  “How was Sticky?” Nate asked casually, as he stuffed both of his hands in his pockets.

  “Fine.” I said. “Julian tried to ask for her hand in marriage.”

  Nathanial’s eyes narrowed as he turned to our brother. His fist clenched. “You stay away from Sticky.”

  “Why?” Julian shrugged as he slipped into the passenger seat of the car.

  Nate stepped forward and halted the door from slamming closed. “Sticky is mine.”

  “Yeah, to bully.” Julian snorted. “We’re not in high school anymore.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Nate growled. “Mine to bully. Tease. Whatever. Mine.”

  Julian glanced at me from the corner of his eye as if to say: ‘what crawled up his ass?’ I shrugged in response because I didn’t know.

  Julian demanded pie and since the coffee shop in town was closed due to a burst pipe, Google directed us to a small run-down diner on the 603. Sitting down, my Italian loafers stuck to the linoleum. Julian flirted with the waitresses and I allowed myself to drift inside my own mind.

  The same thought whirled around my head like a washing machine.

  Don’t tell me I fucked Sarah Mallory without a condom last night.

  I rubbed the back of my neck. Every muscle in my body had bunched up as if I was expecting an attack. I couldn’t remember the night before for the life of me. My head had been aching something fierce and my mouth was as dry as Nanna Gold's tuna casserole.

  I remembered meeting Sarah at the hotel bar in the next town over. Next thing I knew, I was awoken in a bed and eavesdropping on a conversation that made me feel nauseous.

  My attention drifted back to the table and my eyes focused. I quickly realised that I had been staring at the waitress in silence. Both of my brothers looked at me in outright disbelief. As soon as her light brown eyes met mine, her relaxed and casual grin tightened and I watched the realisation drip onto her face like candlewax. She’d realised that we were Golds.

  I knew that my brow furrowed as I tapped my fingers against the table. I waited for the blush. The simpering.

  She pulled a lock of hair out from behind her ear, in order to try and hide her face as she turned her attention back to Julian. Her name badge said Harry, and I wondered why her parents had given her a boy’s name. She was average height but her arms were thin as she wrapped them around herself and held the menus to her chest. Her hair was a strange brunette colour that couldn’t decide if it was red or brown. Her eyes were the colour of mulled wine. I leant closer and the girl blinked. They changed to a whiskey shine with the light.

  She looked like she’d break in half in a breeze. I felt sorry for her. Still, I said nothing. The girl made a joke about Gold’s on the wrong side of town and bounced away with false happiness.

  I turned to Julian, who’s eyes watched her with appraisal.

  “Do you know her?” I asked.

  Julian licked his bottom lip. “She’s Rina’s best friend.”

  Rina Langley had more money than sense, and when she got her nose pierced despite her father Reginald Langley’s protests, I realised she also had no self-preservation.

  “Rina’s been playing in the wrong neighbourhoods.” I said lightly and unwrapped my cutlery. “That girl doesn’t know you.”

  Julian’s eyes focused on a spot on the table that I couldn’t see. “Rina’s protective over her friends. Doesn’t want me fucking my way through them.”

  “Clever.” I remarked.

  Nate said nothing, but fiddled with the rings on his fingers.
<
br />   I excused myself to go to the restroom. My arms rose as I felt a small body hit my chest and stumble backwards. Wide and frightened eyes, like a cornered animal stared back at me. It was the waitress, clutching her phone to her chest like it might float away. We stayed locked in some sort of stalemate. Neither of us moved. I had no idea what was happening but I couldn’t get my body to cooperate. My eyes scanned her face, and then zeroed in on the purple mark on her forehead, peeking out from a line of poorly applied foundation.

  A bruise. She’s been hurt by someone.

  The girl curled back in on herself, but her lips hitched into a smile. A wide, fake and kind of creepy smile. Her body language was at odds with her facial expression.

  She wasn’t the most attractive woman in the world, but the puzzle intrigued me. I wanted to know who had bruised her. My anger was barely tapered as she pushed past and back towards the tables.

  I went to the men’s room, had a piss, washed my hands and then checked my phone.

  Sarah had texted me. “What time are you picking me up for the Masquerade tomorrow?”

  I resisted the urge to curse like a sailor and instead gripped my phone and debated how much strength it would take to crack the screen.

  I didn’t want to give Sarah Mallory another opportunity to get her claws into me. I did not reply. Instead, I phoned my mother and removed her from the guest list.

  3

  Free champagne had the amazing side effect of increasing my ability to not give a fuck. My chest felt like it had been hollowed and a spindly black demon had crawled inside, but with every sip of alcohol, I could slowly forget why I felt like utter shit.

  A tiny voice inside of my mind wanted to shy away from the crowd of peacocks and womanly waifs. I wore a mask on my face, hot pink and covered in feathers to resemble a flamingo. It complimented my dress perfectly, surrounded by a halo of heavy dark mahogany waves.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I imagined that the crowd were my peers and that I was worthy of standing amongst them despite my net worth being approximately a hundred dollars.

  I'd taken a picture of the champagne table for my Instagram account. I couldn’t decide which hashtags to use.

  Rina's dress was red lace couture. A poufy ball gown with matching gloves that went up to her elbow. She wore combat boots underneath, and when she descended the stairs as we arrived, she had made a point of hiking up her skirt to show the entire room her inappropriate footwear.

  The string quartet played a chirpy number that I didn’t recognise. I stared down at the bubbles rising to the top of my glass with a vested interest.

  “My mother brought the string quartet all the way from New York for the occasion.” A male voice came from behind me. My body locked up and the only thing that worked was my drink slinging arm.

  I downed the rest of my champagne and put the flute on a passing tray.

  I turned around very slowly and my eyes met his. Blue like the sky on a winter's day, and hair as black as ink on white paper.

  His mask was leather, hooked on the nose to create the illusion of a tapered down plague doctor. I’d recognise the smug tilt of his lips anywhere, even with his face hidden.

  Elliot fucking Gold.

  I made a noncommittal hum in the back of my throat and my eyes flicked elsewhere to search for an escape or more champagne. I quickly discovered that I was boxed in as people paired off and began to dance as if they'd been choreographed. Elliot dipped his body and wrapped one arm around my waist, effectively spinning me and dancing with me without my permission. My feet tripped over themselves, unable to keep up with his fancy footwork.

  He was a head taller than me. Imposing. He smelt like expensive cologne.

  This place is a dive.

  I can feel my IQ dropping just being here.

  You’d be in a shitty mood if you had to watch your brother flirt with a waitress of questionable intelligence. She’s smiling, for sure. But you can tell, the wheel’s turning but the hamster is dead.

  I found my strength, despite my momentary paralysis. I gripped the top of Elliott’s arms and pushed him away. I wore a gown that cost more than most people earned in a year and suddenly I warranted attention? What a pompous jerk!

  I cocked my head to the side, as if I was surveying prey and my eyes narrowed as I took him in.

  Elliot pulled his hand from my waist, but his lips had a confident tilt to them as he studied me as intently as I did him.

  “Do you see something that you like?” he said in a low timbre that made my stomach churn.

  I both shrank back and blossomed under his gaze. I stared for a long second as my lady bits did the tango, despite the fact that the man was a horse's ass.

  “No.” I said, my voice was surprisingly firm. I turned and walked away without another word.

  Rina found me on the balcony, listening to the low hum of conversation inside. My elbows rested against the stone wall as I surveyed the endless garden below. The sun had set hours before, and darkness swathed the expansive manicured lawns.

  Hedges twisted to the left, dipping into a maze that I could clearly see from above.

  “Having fun?” Rina chuckled, as she rested her butt against the ledge.

  I shrugged and lifted my empty champagne flute in salutation.

  “My father has introduced me to no less than ten suitors. My favourite was when he simply said, “Ted Flannigan? This is my wayward daughter. I’m hoping to marry her off before she gets into any more trouble.” Rina snorted and rolled her eyes. “If a tattoo of a fox on my wrist is 'trouble', imagine dad's face if I developed a heroin addiction?”

  A startled laugh burst from my lips and I was unable to control it. “Maybe you should start leaving dirty spoons in your bathrooms. And a belt. Don’t forget the belt.”

  “That would give him a scare, wouldn’t it?” Rina smirked. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and pulled me into an unexpected embrace. She smelt like flowers and vodka.

  “I saw Elliot Gold earlier.” I said, once she'd let go. “What a douche nozzle.”

  “He’s not so bad. He just has no filter.” Rina allowed. “He rarely speaks, but when he does, then it's never good.”

  “Maybe he should keep his mouth shut.”

  “Funny.” Rina said. “Julian said the same thing.”

  “How is the manwhore of the Bois?” I asked.

  Rina shrugged and an unknown emotion passed over her eyes like a shadow. “Same as always.”

  “Maybe you could just marry Julian?” I suggested. “Your dad loves him. His infidelity wouldn’t matter because your marriage would be fake.”

  Rina stayed silent as my words sunk in. I pushed away from the balcony and declared my intent to pee. Rina followed.

  Rina had been in Gold Manor many times. She led me away from the first floor restrooms and up a flight of stairs.

  As our heels clicked against the marble floors, the sound of raised voices from the end of the corridor floated down to our location.

  “You’re paranoid, Elliot!” I heard a female voice hiss. I put my hand out and halted Rina before we turned the corner.

  “Am I?” Elliot drawled.

  “I saw you with that girl on the dance floor. Flirting. I know you're not committed to me. What does it matter if I'm married?”

  I took a step back and pulled Rina back with me.

  “That’s Sarah Mallory!” My best friend hissed, her voice was a whisper.

  I shrugged, feeling dirty about the small snippet of gossip in which we'd stumbled. I felt a sharp pain hit my ribs as my heart grew three times its normal size. I rubbed my chest to alleviate the pain.

  Was I jealous?

  I snorted a laugh to myself. Maybe it rubbed me the wrong way that he'd flirted with me not an hour before. Elliot Gold clearly had his hands in a married woman's panties.

  “I know what you did, babe.” Elliot snarled the term of endearment. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “I’
m not leaving!” Sarah shrieked hysterically.

  “You need to go.” Elliot replied.

  I don’t know what made me do it, but I loosened my hand from Rina's grip and rounded the corner with a determined set on my shoulders and a bright smile. Rina hid behind the corner with her fist in her mouth to stop herself from laughing.

  “Elliot, honey.” I cooed as I encountered the wide eyes of the arguing couple. “Your mother asked me to fetch you.” I looped my arm with Elliot's, as it belonged there and smiled indulgently to the red-faced peroxide blonde.

  Sarah Mallory had fixed her gap tooth since the last time I had seen her, but her narrow nose and high cheekbones were model perfect. Her eyes glittered with the kind of ice that I imagined serial killers had. She’s always been cold in a way that I couldn’t explain. She was bones and jagged angles just like I was. I could see her collarbone and I knew that she wasn't eating right. I felt a flash of anger. I was skinny. You could count my ribs. But to have money and to still starve?

  Elliot ‘Iceman’ Gold was her perfect match, because the look in her eyes was positively glacial.

  I glanced at the man of the hour out of the corner of my eye. His expression twitched into one of amusement. Play along, I tried to silently communicate with a wink.

  “I’m Pepper.” I said, extending my arm out to shake her hand. I used the name that Rina had put on the guest list. “Soon to be, Pepper Gold. We're engaged. Aren't we, honey?”

  “Yes, dear.” Elliot's voice was amused.

  Sarah's eyes narrowed as she took in my dress, right down to the flamingo mask that rested over my nose. The same mask that was not coming off until I was at home in bed.

  “We’ve got to get going.” I said as I patted Elliot on the chest. “I trust you can find your own way out?”

  Her face flushed red, the same crimson shade that I remembered from school.

  “Do I know you?” She said through gritted teeth. “You’re very familiar.”

  My smile did not dim. “My name is Pepper Potts. I work at Stark Industries. You tell me.” Inside I was cackling and hoping to God that she'd never watched Iron Man.