by Hotcheri
She did a little twirl, holding out the skirt of her pink dress.
“So am I,” I replied, sticking my tongue out at her playfully as I attacked my messy hair with a rarely used comb. I hated combing my hair. Chase Crawford I was not.
Leaning against the now closed door, Faith looked at me solemnly, her thumb stuck in her mouth. “You look strange.”
That didn’t help my mood much.
I stopped in mid-brush, looking at Faith’s face in the mirror. “Strange? How?” I asked curiously. It was the pants and shirt, had to be. The last time I wore something this formal had been at Shane’s funeral; usually, I lived in band t-shirts and jeans. ‘You look strange’ was probably Faith’s polite way of saying I looked like an idiot. And if she thought that, what would CiCi think? Hang on, why was I making such a big deal out of it? And why did I care about what CiCi would think?
Popping her thumb out of her mouth, Faith looked at me, her head to one side, and shrugged. “You look clean.”
I couldn’t help laughing as I resumed combing my hair. “Clean?” I repeated. “Are you trying to say that I usually look dirty?”
Because if she was, then we had a problem on our hands. Five year olds never lied, did they?
Looking a little confused, Faith shook her head, her curly hair flying out behind her.
“No. I don’t think so. But you look different,” she elaborated. “You look nice.”
Caught off guard, I grinned at her in the mirror and was rewarded by a grin back. Always nice to receive a compliment.
“Thanks, Faith.”
Unfortunately, Faith wasn’t done. Narrowing her eyes suspiciously, she added, “Are you trying to impress Celsi?”
God, why did this topic keep coming up? Bad enough that I was about to embark on my first real date in months, now I had to deal with this?
I twisted around to look at Faith, who still had that inscrutably serious look on her face. The kid was way too intense for a five year old. “What makes you think that?” I asked her.
“I don’t know. Are you?”
I shook my head before she even finished asking the question. “Of course not, silly! The only person I’m trying to impress is you.”
Faith rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry. You look nice. She’ll like you,” she told me reassuringly, as if she was my therapist or something. “Mom’s calling you, by the way.”
And with that cryptic answer, Faith let herself out of the bathroom as I gave my hair a final comb, feeling baffled. Idly, I found myself wondering whether CiCi would even notice that my hair was combed or that I was wearing aftershave and I almost slapped myself.
Faith was right. In some weird, unconscious way, I was trying to impress CiCi, and I had no clue why. Maybe I was anticipating the night ahead of me a bit too much, but could you blame me? CiCi was pretty, funny, smart and- real. Being around someone who knew who I was, what I had done in the past and where I came from but didn’t care was refreshing to me.
Plus, her hair smelt like strawberries. And I had a weakness for strawberries, so that made her the perfect date.
“Time to leave!”
Dad’s bellow echoed around the penthouse more effectively than using the intercom. I checked my watch. It was only 6.30. The gala didn’t start for another hour, so why was dad storming around already, saying we needed to leave? What happened to being fashionably late?
After slipping on my sneakers (dress shoes? Just shoot me) I danced out of my room and almost slammed into Hope in the hallway as she shrugged on her Chanel jacket.
“Luke, where’s your jacket? And your tie? We’re about to leave,” she said, looking harassed.
“Why?” I asked, following her to the living room where Faith was sitting demurely on a couch, her little handbag placed on her lap. “The gala starts at 7.30. I know you guys want to be early, but getting there an hour before everyone else is a bit much, don’t you think?”
Now, I was just joking with her, but dad, who happened to be eavesdropping right behind me, never did know how to take jokes.
“We leave when I say so, and I say we leave now,” he growled near my ear, obviously not realising that he had enough skills to write a mediocre rap song.
Arguing with dad was always pointless, but that didn’t stop me from trying. I just wanted to know what was going on. Nobody told me anything in this house anymore.
“Okay, I understand that much,” I started, turning to face dad, who was scowling as usual. “But why are we leaving so early?”
A contemptuous expression on his face, dad said, “I guess you have no idea that I’m the whole reason this gala is taking place, do you?”
I shrugged. “I’m not psychic,” I replied, sounding sullen to my own ears. “If you don’t tell me these things, how do you expect me to know?”
“Well maybe if you decided to take a bigger interest in what went on in this family rather than heading on your path to destruction, you’d be in the loop,” dad replied. Involuntarily, my eyes widened with astonishment. He had some nerve saying that I didn’t care about what went on in our family when he was rarely home!
What a hypocrite!
I grunted, deciding not to push it. He was entitled to his own opinion, even though it was wrong, as usual. Jeeze, what could I do just to prove myself to him? Everything I did was wrong these days. “Whatever,” I said quietly, stuffing my hands into my pants pockets. “So we’re leaving early because the gala is for you?”
Dad clapped, a malicious light in his eyes. “Finally he gets it,” he drawled sarcastically. “Yes, we have to be there by 7. Where’s your jacket?”
“It’s in my room,” I replied, suddenly feeling tired again as dad looked me up and down, obviously trying to find something wrong with my clothes.
“Why are you wearing sneakers? And where the hell is your tie?” he demanded to know.
Running a hand through my hair, I told him, “I’m not gonna wear a tie and I can’t find my dress shoes.”
I didn’t think it was a big deal, but apparently it was.
“Stop playing around, Lucas. We have to leave. Go get your tie, jacket and change out of those ridiculous shoes right now,” dad commanded, sounding impatient.
“I’m gonna get my jacket coz I have to,” I said firmly, staring dad in the eye. “But I’m not wearing a tie.” Ties were so unfreakingcomfortable. Two hours with one on and I’d be clawing at my neck, trying to get it off. “And I’m definitely not wearing those ugly ass shoes.”
Pointed toes, shiny leather? No thanks.
Hope was crouching next to Faith, wiping her face as she tried to pretend that she wasn’t listening to our little father/son moment.
“You don’t want to argue with me, son,” dad said menacingly, taking a step forward. I stood my ground. He was used to wearing ties, but I was worried about my own comfort.
“I’m not trying to argue with you, dad. But you’re already forcing me to go to this thing; you made me get a date, even though I didn’t want to. I don’t need to wear a tie. C’mon. Give me a break.”
Fists clenched, dad glowered at me. Why was he always in such a foul temper these days? I guess it was true. The one thing money couldn’t buy was happiness. Dad was living proof of that.
Eventually, after a couple seconds of angry eye contact, he shrugged. “Your date better be worth it,” was all he said as he turned away from me. “Go put your jacket on. We leave in fifteen minutes.”
I stared at his back. “So, are we going to pick up my date before the gala?”
That had originally been my plan, before I realized that dad wanted the whole family to leave together. So how was I gonna pick CiCi up?
“Send a car for her,” was dad’s brusque reply as he strode out of the living room, leaving me feeling slightly drained as I always did every time I talked to him.
Turning to Hope, I rolled my eyes and shrugged. “Tell me the honest truth, Hope,” I said, sitting on a couch. “If you were going on a date
and a guy sent a car for you, would you think he was just setting you up?”
Because that’s what I would think. Yet dad had to make a simple thing so complicated.
“Call her and tell her that there’s been a change of plan,” Hope suggested, whipping out a lint brush from her purse and attacking my shirt with it.
“It’s so annoying,” I groaned, putting my head in my hands. “Why the hell can’t I just go pick CiCi up and meet up with you guys at the hotel?”
“Sweetie, this is what your dad wants,” Hope said in a reverent voice.
Basically, anything dad wants, he gets.
I fished my phone out of my pocket and scrolled down the list of contacts till I found CiCi’s number and pressed call.
She answered on the second ring (yes, I counted) sounding out of breath. “Hello?”
“Hey, CiCi,” I said, grinning to myself for no particular reason.
“Hi Luke! What’s up?”
“Um, slight change of plan,” I said slowly. “Do you mind if I send a car for you? My dad’s issued a decree saying that my family needs to be at the hotel at 7.”
CiCi giggled softly and I tried to control my breathing.
“Issued a decree? Well, I don’t think I want to mess with that,” she replied teasingly. She thought I was kidding. I didn’t bother correcting her.
“Yeah, it would be better if you didn’t,” I joked. “So, is that okay?”
“You know what; I’ll just go with Robyn since I’m with her right now. That way you don’t need to waste gas on something trivial.”
Picking her up was trivial? If only she knew how much I was looking forward to just looking at her pretty face. And if only she knew how much I was trying to hide that.
“That makes more sense,” I agreed. “And trivial isn’t a word I’d use to describe you.”
“Really? What word would you use then? Weird?”
I shook my head. “How about ‘habit-forming’?”
There was a short silence. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she finally said, sounding hesitant.
“It was a compliment,” I said and I meant it. “Habit-forming, like cocaine. Can’t get enough of you. That kind of thing.”
CiCi laughed. “You’re a trip, Luke. I’ll see you later, okay?”
I hung up just as Hope started fixing my collar.
“You sound like you’re looking forward to hanging with your date,” she said absently, brushing my hair back from my forehead.
A grin spread across my face as I said, “That’s because I kinda am.”
“She’s pretty. And she’s nice,” Faith said unexpectedly. “Luke, are you going to dance with her?”
“That depends,” I replied, twisting in my seat to look at her. “Will you let me?”
Faith nodded fervently. “A slow song. And you have to kiss her hand, like Prince Charming kissed Cinderella’s hand.”
Hope shook her head, picking up the lint brush and sticking it back in her bag. “You watch too many cartoons, Faith,” she said fondly.
“I know,” Faith nodded complacently. “But will you kiss her hand Luke? Please?”
I shrugged. Whatever floats your boat. “Sure thing, princess,” I agreed.
Faith nodded happily. “Good,” she said, just as dad roared, “Let’s go!”
Waldorf-Astoria Hotel
Despite the fact that dad was so eager to be the first person to arrive, when we entered the hotel foyer, there was already a large crowd of invited guests milling around. I wondered whether all these early birds were being honoured too, or if they just liked to arrive at events half an hour before start time.
Once we got to the grand ballroom and were ushered to our table for 5 by an overeager concierge, dad was swept up by a group of expensively dressed business men and taken to the nearest bar. A few seconds later, Hope, after entrusting Faith to my care, took off with a bunch of Manhattan housewives to stand in a corner and bitch about people’s outfits. I’m sure I was the main point of conversation, but I didn’t give a damn. I was wearing sneakers, after all.
Friends of my father kept coming up to ‘chat’ with me and Faith, thinking that it would get them into dad’s good books. They had no way of knowing that I was persona non grata right now.
“What time’s Celsi gonna be here, Luke?” Faith asked me, inquisitively looking up into my face.
“I don’t know, princess. Probably soon,” I told her, smoothing back her hair from her forehead.
She smiled at me, poking her tongue through the gap where her front tooth used to be. “Are you excited, Luke?” she wanted to know.
Nodding honestly, I grinned down at her. I was excited, even though I still wasn’t quite sure why. “I sure am.”
“Me too.” Faith twirled again and her dress fluttered around her legs. “Do you think she’ll like my dress?”
I tugged playfully on a ringlet of her hair. “Course she will,” I assured her. “Anyone normal would love your dress, princess.”
Faith beamed. “I need to go bathroom,” she whispered furtively, looking around to make sure that no one was listening. “Can you come with me? Please?”
“I’ll come with you, but I’m not going in with you,” I joked, waving my finger in her face as she giggled. “Can you imagine what the ladies would say?”
A grave expression on her face, Faith nodded in agreement. “Yeah, not a good idea. You can just wait for me outside.”
She slipped her small hand into mine and I let her lead me to the bathrooms. As Faith reached up to open the heavy door leading to the Ladies Room, it opened from the inside and Wendy and Joanna stepped out, chatting rapidly.
Joanna’s eyes sparkled as she saw me. “Luke! Hi!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around me and enveloping me in her expensive perfume. The fabric of her black dress scratched against my shirt as I hugged her back and whispered, “You look good enough to eat,” in her ear. She giggled as she ran her hands up and down my back. I hoped her boyfriend wasn’t anywhere near, or I was dead.
Over Joanna's shoulder, Wendy shot me a cool look. “Girls bathroom, Luke? Really?”
I childishly stuck my tongue out at her as Joanna stepped back, giving me a perfect view of her sexy little black dress. A lot of effort had evidently gone into her look and I appreciated it. She looked hot.
“I’m babysitting Faith, blondie,” I told Wendy, who snorted.
Joanna knelt awkwardly till she was face to face with Faith, who gave her a level look.
For some odd reason, Faith had never really liked Joanna, who had even stooped to bribing her with candy when we started dating. Sure, Faith had eaten the candy (greedily, if I might add) but she still didn’t like Joanna, no matter what tactics she tried. Faith was weird like that. Some people she took a shine to immediately and instinctively adored; other people she couldn’t care less about. Wendy and Joanna fell into the second category. Wendy didn’t care since she didn’t like kids, but Joanna was always on a mission to get Faith to be her BFF.
“Hi sweetie, you look so adorable in your pretty pink dress! Did you pick it out yourself?” Joanna gushed.
Faith nodded mutely at Joanna’s question, which was worded in baby talk. It was painful yet hilarious to listen to. I always suspected the real reason Faith disliked Joanna is because she insisted on treating her like a baby. Faith was one of the most adult five year olds that I knew (not that I knew many five year olds, thank God). Joanna and her insufferable baby talk were just insults to Faith’s intelligence.
“Wow, you have style, sweetie! What do you want to be when you grow up? A fashion designer?”
Faith shot me an ‘is she serious’ look that made me snicker. “No,” she replied, shaking her head. “I wanna be a cat doctor.”
“That’s adorable, you smart girl! Isn’t that adorable, Wendy?” Joanna asked, looking to Wendy for support. Yeah right.
Yawning, a bored looking Wendy said, “I could take it or leave it.”
I
always got the feeling that Joanna sucked up to Faith for my benefit, maybe thinking that if she finally hit it off with Faith (which was about as likely to happen as Dr. Khan giving me good news about my aneurysm) it would win her points with me. Sometimes I swear she forgot that she was the one who dumped me.
Politely, Faith replied, “I have to go bathroom now.”
She tripped into the bathroom as Joanna got to her feet, her knees popping.
“She’s such a sweetheart,” she enthused.
Wendy snorted rudely. “The kid hates you!”
Joanna turned to her, taken aback. “She does not!”
Tossing her shiny blonde hair, Wendy said, “Whatever, Joanna.” She turned to me, her hands on her slim hips. “Luke, I have to ask you something.”
“Shoot,” I said agreeably.
“Celsi Sawyer over my cousin Lynn? What the hell, dude?”
Joanna shot us a confused look. Hell, I was confused. How the hell had Wendy found out?
“What are you talking about?” Joanna wanted to know. “What does Celsi have to do with anything?”
Sneering down her nose at me, Wendy said, “I’ll tell you. Luke invited Celsi Sawyer to the gala as his date.”
And that’s when the proverbial shit hit the fan.
CHAPTER 15
wonderful tonight.
Joanna turned on me, her lips compressed into a thin line. “I seriously hope she’s joking. Did you really?” she asked.
Before I could open my mouth to answer her, Wendy did. “Why the hell would I be joking?” she asked, lips twisted in a vicious smile. Wendy lived to make trouble. “Ahmed told me. He heard it straight from the horse’s mouth, and yes, I’m talking about Celsi.”
Eyes wide, Joanna stared at me. “Is it true?” she asked.
I nodded slowly. No use in lying about it, they would have found out anyway. I just wished I didn’t have to deal with the unpleasant questions that I was sure were coming. Nobody could out bitch Joanna and Wendy, once they got started.