I couldn't be more excited to hear the bell ring now than I have all day, especially since my next class is with Mr. Harrington.
I don't bother going to my locker between classes because I want to see Asher before anyone arrives.
My heart is pounding as I quicken my steps toward his door, practically diving in the middle of the hall when I slide to a stop. Taking in a deep breath, I turn the handle and step inside, but what I see causes me to choke on that same breath.
Asher and Catarina are the only ones in class, and he's leaning over her desk like he's done to me on so many occasions. They're so interested in whatever it is she's saying they don't even notice me walk in.
I've never experienced jealousy at this level before, and I hate it. If it were anyone else in class, I know it wouldn't be a problem, but Catarina. She made a point to mention what she called my crush on Asher. So she knows yet she's still pulling him in like the slut that she is.
Well, two can play at that game. I drop my books on to my desk, and they make a loud thud. It does the trick drawing their attention to me. "Sorry," I say, narrowing my stare on the woman taking all the focus of my man.
What I don't expect is the angry expression I get in response from him. "It's ok Catarina, we can go through this after class. I have another student I'm working with, but I can make some adjustments to that schedule." He says.
At that moment, my heart stops. Not only did he diss me with that face, but he also told her he's working with another student. I mean, how long will it be before she makes the connection it's me?
Did our time not mean anything yesterday?
Tears tease the corners of my eyes, and I lower my gaze to the open book on my desk. It has nothing to do with this class, but I need the distraction.
When kids start filing in with their laughter and conversations, I consider ditching the rest of class, but I can guarantee Mr. Harrington wouldn't allow it. Plus, I'm not one who gives up that easily. If she thinks she's getting her hands on him, she has another thing coming.
The rest of the class, I follow her lead. Whenever Mr. Harrington asks a question, no matter if I know the answer or not, I raise my hand just as she does. It earns a few chuckles from the class when I get one wrong, but at least I'm trying, or so they think.
I'm relieved when the end of class bell rings, but I'm also unsure what to do next. Usually, I'd head straight over to the library, but if my teacher is going to be helping that bitch, then maybe I'm just supposed to head home.
"Harlyn." He calls out, and once he has my attention, he motions me forward until I'm hovering over his desk. Lifting his eyes to mine, he says, "I'd like to talk to you about this assignment you turned in."
When I glance down, I notice it's not an assignment at all. It's an invitation to our next tutoring session at his home. The thought of meeting him at his home has my heart racing and all kinds of ideas rolling through my head about what we could do other than talking about anything related to school. But then as I read further, the note says tomorrow.
Tomorrow is the charity ball, and I can't miss it.
It also means he'll be spending the rest of this afternoon with her.
I turn and pin a stare on Catarina. She meets my gaze, and her lips turn up in a mischievous grin. This is her way of making a play on him, and I'm not going to let that happen. Swiping a pen from his desk, I write a note on the same invitation. Plans tomorrow, can we meet later tonight?
He looks from Catarina and back to me. There's turmoil in his eyes. It's as though the decision between us is one too difficult to make.
I'm not sure what game this is, but it's not one I'm interested in playing. I grab the paper from his desk, wadding it in my palm and tossing it in the trash. It's my fuck you, to him and his invitation.
Chapter Thirteen
Winston Asher Harrington
It crushed me to see Harlyn storm out of class yesterday. The realization of how much my feelings have grown for her over the school year happened at that moment.
After the library, I'd been seriously considering talking with her about a longer-term relationship once she graduates, of course, and tonight was supposed to be that conversation. But Harlyn is no longer answering any of my texts.
The situation with Catarina wasn't my idea. It's not something I want to do, but when she came to class early yesterday, threatening to expose what she saw at the library, I knew something had to be done. Now she's out of the picture, and I can focus my attention on Harlyn, which is why my tux lies on the bed.
I hadn't planned on attending the charity ball but had made a sizable donation, which means they'd have a seat reserved in my honor, whether empty or not.
I know it's a risk confronting her there. This dance is where everyone who's anyone comes together—members of the school board, society members, and just parents in general. There's also the added chance she'll not be there alone.
People talk, and if you're in the right circles, you hear things. I know she and Lance were a thing, and I was glad to learn she ended it. He's a shady bastard and will do whatever it takes to hide the fact his blood is not from a founding family.
I suspect if she's going, it'll be with him.
"There's only one way to find out," I tell myself, sliding from the bed and heading toward the shower.
Once I've dried and dressed, I'm fumbling with my tie when my cell rings. Thinking it may know who it is, I answer without looking at the number. "Harlyn?"
"I'd never wish that on my worst enemy." The voice on the other line says.
"Catarina. I thought we had an understanding." I growl.
"Oh, we do, and as I told you, my word is my promise. I'll not say anything to anyone about what I saw in the library, and in return, you owe me private tutoring and one favor." She clears her throat. "I'm calling in that favor."
"Whatever it is, it'll have to wait. I've got plans." I tell her, preparing to end the call.
"I know you're planning on going to the dance; it's the reason for my call. See, my date canceled at the last minute..."
"No! Absolutely not!" I shout. "I will not show up with you, Catarina, even if I wanted to. It's the same reason I hadn't asked Harlyn. I could lose my job."
She lets out a frustrated breath. "Just let me worry about that. Pick me up at 7:30 pm. I want to be fashionably late."
The fact I'm even considering this means I've lost my ever-loving mind. If I do it, I risk everyone there seeing us together, but if I don't, Catarina goes straight to her parents who are on the school board. Balancing which option poses more risk is what I'm considering now. "If I take you, how will you ensure I don't lose my job?"
"If my parents ask, I plan on telling them it's a school project. We're doing a documentary on what it would be like to be socially outcast. I mean, I've never actually been in that position, so it's a perfect experiment. They'll tell everyone what we're doing to avoid the shame of their daughter attending a dance with her teacher. Even if that would ruin the whole idea of the project, to begin with."
She makes a good point. It could be a valid project, not that I'd recommend anyone taking that risk. Catarina has a confident head on her shoulders, and if anyone can handle the backlash, it would be her. "Fine, I'll meet you in front of your house at 7:15."
Explaining this to Harlyn is not something I'm looking forward to, but she'll understand once she knows everything.
Chapter Fourteen
Francis Harlyn Aldridge
The chime of the doorbell echoes through the house, and I hear Anderson answer.
"Greetings, Mr. Freeman, Miss Aldridge, is expecting you. Please come in and have a seat."
Heels of what I expect are thousand-dollar dress shoes, click on the marble foyer, and stop at the bottom of the stairs. "There's no time for sitting Anderson; we're running a bit late. Harlyn, are you ready?" He asks, his deep timber flowing up toward the second floor.
"I'll be right down." My response is shaky as nerves twist my st
omach in knots.
I should've pushed harder at going to the party alone. If there's even a slight possibility, Asher will be there, arriving with Lance will put whatever we started, in jeopardy.
I have a suspicion this night isn't going to end well.
Taking a deep breath, I rest my hand on the railing and begin my descent down the stairs—the small train of navy-blue silk dragging each step behind. When I reach the midway point of the arched staircase, and my gaze meets the raised brows and parted lips of Lance's shocked expression, I know this dress was the right choice.
"Damn, Harlyn, you look amazing."
Lance's words are kind, and I'm appreciative, but in the back of my mind, I wish it were Asher waiting for me at the base of the stairs, and it was him watching me the way Lance is now. "Thank you," I tell him, reaching for his elbow as I take the last step.
Just as we reach the door and are about to step through, Anderson stops us. "Your wrap Miss. The night might have a chill, and you wouldn't want to be unprotected." He says, directing his attention to Lance.
"Down boy," Lance says before stepping toward my butler and flipping his coat jacket aside, revealing his badge. "Need I remind you I'm a detective and I can protect Miss Aldridge just fine?"
"No, sir," Anderson replies, standing a bit taller and setting the younger man straight with his next words. "It's just a coat, sir."
My eyes roll at the testosterone-driven verbal battle. If this mild banter is any sign of how the rest of the night will be, then I have nothing to worry about. At least, I hope.
Stepping through the doors, I'm surprised to find a sleek black car awaiting us and not the muscle car Lance is always so proud to flaunt around town. "I thought we'd be riding in the silver bullet."
He chuckles. "Not in that dress, sweetheart. Tonight, I wanted to be the one who treated you like a princess. Plus, if I drove, my eyes would've been on the road and not on you."
I grip his arm before he reaches for the car door. "Lance, this isn't what you think. I'm going with you as a friend, not your girlfriend. If you can't accept that, then I'll just have Anderson take me." Turning, I prepare to do just that, but a hand rests on my shoulder, stopping me.
"I understand, Harlyn. I'll try and contain myself. Please, just get in the car. We're already later than I'd expected we'd be."
Glancing from the house to the car, I concede and climb in. He gives no reason for why he's in such a hurry, and I don't ask. I just want to get there, make an appearance, and slip out the back. If we leave early enough, there's still a chance, I can take Asher up on his offer of a tutoring session at home.
The ride is filled mostly with idle conversation. It sets my mind at ease, and I relax back in the seat. After what feels like only five minutes later, someone is shaking me. "Har? Harlyn…wake up we’re here."
My lashes flutter until my eyes adjust to the bright white lights strung all about the exterior of the city hall building. How could I have fallen asleep? This is totally unlike me; I'm generally able to survive on only a few hours of sleep.
"Close the door, Danny," Lance tells the driver.
Wait, did he just call the driver Danny? "What's going on…" My question is cut off by Lance's hand covering my mouth.
"Before you give me the third degree, let me explain. Ok?" He asks calmly. It's not until I nod my response, he releases his hand. "Good. There's no need to be upset. I know how you feel about Danny, but since I obviously can't afford a limo AND a driver, he volunteered. I've told him hands off Harlyn, both for tonight and any other time."
"Do you think he'll listen? Because we've done this before and at some point, he always reverts to his old ways." I huff out, crossing my arms but quickly set them in my lap when I catch Lance's eyes have lowered to my cleavage.
"I told him if he doesn't, I'll shoot him."
I laugh at his response but stop mid-breath when I realize his response wasn't a joke. "Ok, Lance, but I'm trusting you."
"Finally." He says, winking at me before grabbing the door handle and exiting the car, reaching for my hand.
We walk hand in arm to the entry doors where Lance hands the doorman our invitations, and he waves us in. Our heels click on the aged marble floor of the city hall's interior as we make our way to the ballroom.
When the double doors open, the room takes my breath away.
Round dining tables perfectly spaced around the room, each with meticulous place settings and centerpieces of abstract gold weaved around lit candles: a dance floor and a place for small orchestra add entertainment to the overall environment.
Attendees are still gathering, and no one has seated yet, which means we're right on time. I scan the room for the one person I'm most interested in seeing, but there's no sign of him. I'm both disappointed and relieved.
Lance fidgets nervously at my side.
"Is everything ok?" I ask him.
"Everything's fine." He responds, glancing around the room. "How about you find our table, and I'll get us some drinks."
Nodding, I head toward the row of tables by the dancefloor, glancing back often to see the direction Lance goes. Something about him seems off, and I'm not sure what it is. When he walks past the bar and through a small crowd, I forget about finding our table and decide to follow him.
Chapter Fifteen
Lance Freeman
According to Danny, the one person I wanted here before I make my big announcement hasn't yet arrived, but I needed to get away from Harlyn; otherwise, I would've jumped the gun on asking her.
Right now, I'm just trying to buy some time by doing a quick sweep of the area to see who else I might want to shock with my announcement tonight. I spot Quinn in one of the rooms, but have no intention of speaking with her. She and I have never gotten along, so she'll have to find out through her friend later.
I'm about to look in another room, my phone chimes.
Danny: They're parking
Danny: About three minutes out
Me: Thanks man
I don't have much time. Spinning on a heel, I don't realize Harlyn is behind me before I plow straight into her, gripping her arms just in time before she falls back.
"What are you doing back here? I thought you were getting drinks." She asks, eyeing me curiously.
"I was, then realized I needed the men's room."
She glances down the hall, the way we came. "Funny because it's in the opposite direction."
I need to get her back to the ballroom, or at least the main entrance. "You're right, I just got turned around. Did you find our table?"
"Um…" Her cheeks tint red, and she lowers her gaze. "No. Sorry I went looking for you."
"It's ok, come on I think I saw a seating chart at the entrance." Gripping her arm lightly, we walk briskly toward the main doors. She follows willingly and without question. "There, over on the wall."
She heads over to the chart, and I'm a step behind watching the door. Once Asher and Catarina reach the doors, the next few moments happen so quickly it's almost a blur.
I pull the ring from my pocket and drop to one knee. "Harlyn."
She turns, and her breath catches. Shock is what paints her face first and then a flash of anger. "Lance, what are you doing? Get up!"
Ignoring her pleas and with perfect timing, I ask the question I've wanted to for a long time. "Francis Harlyn Aldridge, will you marry me?"
"Harlyn, what's going on?" A deep voice asks from the door.
Her eyes flit to his and then to Catarina before her face goes white, and a hand covers her mouth.
I can't help the grin that spreads across my face at their predicament. Catarina has been filling me in on Harlyn and the teacher. It fueled the fire burning deep within to make her mine. I was hoping it would be under different settings, but this will do.
Still, on one knee, I ask again, "Harlyn, will you…be my wife?"
A single tear slips from her eye, and without giving him any chance to explain why he chose Catarina and not
her, she turns to me. "Yes, I'll marry…"
"You most certainly will not." A female voice interrupts. Gasps cast from the crowd that has now gathered around us.
It catches Harlyn's attention, and her eyes snap to the person ruining my whole plan. "Mom? Mom!" She shouts, running toward her long-lost parent and jumping into her arms. Her parents don't give a fuck about her. Why would they? The only reason they're here is to show support for their daughter in front of everyone, so there's no question around who took care of their darling daughter.
Straightening myself, I move toward my girl and her mom but not before tossing a glance Asher's way. His stare is narrowed so hard on me if looks could kill I'd be murdered and then some. It warms my heart, knowing he's that angry. I also flit a glance to Catarina shrugs slightly at what went down.
She and I need to talk.
"Mrs. Aldridge, so nice to see you again. I hope you had a nice flight." Laying it on thick, I focus my attention on the woman who brought my girl into this world.
She brushes me off, tucking her daughter under her arm, and they head down the hall, but not before Harlyn tosses me a what the fuck were you thinking look over her shoulder.
I'm left standing in the entryway with stares all around. "Alright, break it up. There's nothing to see here."
With a low rumble, most head toward the ballroom while others pat me on the back and give me their condolences.
Shouting turns my attention toward Asher and Catarina. "NO! I Can't do this. Go ahead and blab to your parents, I can't stay here!" He shouts, exiting the building, leaving Catarina and me alone together.
Chapter Sixteen
Francis Harlyn Aldridge
I hold it together long enough for my mother to pull me into a private room where as soon as I step through the door and find my dad standing by the window, the waterworks let loose. "Daddy!" I rush toward him, wrapping my arms around his waist.
The Society Page 21