Page 16 of Gilded Princess

I try not to let the disappointment weigh too heavy on my shoulders and just be grateful for the experience—and the fact that he helped me get out of there safely.

I slide into the town car and sit next to Blaire, mindful of my dress.

“Who was that?” she asks with a look over her shoulder.

I feel the smile spread across my face slowly and shrug a shoulder. “I have no idea.”

Chapter Six

MADDIE

“Babe. Come to The Grasshopper for a late lunch today.” Blaire mastered the art of making a request sound like a command years ago.

I roll my eyes at her tone, not that she can see me through the phone. I know her as well as she’ll let me, and I know she’s not doing it to be a jerk. She’s just sharpening her already honed skills of careful manipulation. I swear she’s going to rule a small country one day, and it’ll happen before anyone even realizes it.

“Good morning to you too. How are you today? Did you sleep well?” I laugh a little before I get all the words out.

She huffs in my ear, but I hear the smile in her voice. “Good morning. I’m great. Yes, and no, I didn’t take that asshole home. He’s such a fucking pig, I can’t believe I ever dated him.”

It takes me a moment to connect the dots. “Ah, you saw Dale then, I take it?”

“As if anyone could miss his drunken embarrassment. I’m sure he was one of the assholes fighting in the middle of the gala too. Ugh. If that idiot thought he could win me back by that pathetic attempt at making amends, he’s mistaken. As if I’d ever take his lying, cheating ass back. It’s been ages, and I’ve moved on.” She huffs, the noise small but still filled with contempt. “Besides, my mom and I have already hatched our plan of revenge, and phase one doesn’t begin for a few months. When his daddy starts campaigning for his re-election.” She delivers her words with such a nonchalance. If you weren’t listening carefully, you’d be inclined to think she was commenting on the weather and not ruining a man’s career.

We both know that she took it hard when she found out Dale was slipping into the back rooms with girls from the Praying Mantis strip club. That kind of betrayal isn’t something you just forget. And from the sounds of it, she’s got it covered.

“Well, he’s an idiot, and he doesn’t deserve you.” It’s my honor and duty as her pseudo-friend to always remind her she deserves someone better. I leave the revenge plots though.

She clicks her tongue. “I know. That’s why we’re going to lunch today.”

My brow quirks high on my forehead in realization. “You have your eye on someone else.” It’s not a question, because I already know the answer.

She pauses a moment, and the line is quiet—no background noise. “We’ll see. Four o’clock today.”

Hesitation holds me back from agreeing. “I don’t know, Blaire. I’m kind of tired—”

“It’s the same circles as the masquerade, so it stands to reason that your mystery man could show.”

Smug satisfaction bleeds from every word, and if I wasn’t so irritated, I’d be impressed. She hasn’t brought him up since she asked me who he was when we left the masquerade, but I shouldn’t be surprised. A few days’ time is practically an eternity to a girl who’s a hub of information and gossip.

A streak of possessiveness slithers inside my veins. I selfishly don’t want Blaire to find my mystery guy. Which is ridiculous, because I don’t have any claim on a guy I met once. And Blaire’s a friend.

But I can’t deny the urge to hide him from her—from everyone, really. Something dark and wicked twists around inside me when I think of seeing him again. I know myself well enough that I won’t hesitate a second time.

“Damn, babe. Straight for the throat, huh? Who else will be there?” She’s got me, and she knows it.

“Does it matter?”

Screw it. I want to see him again. And without a name or a number, I don’t know how else I’d find him.

“Fine. I’ll meet you there at four.”

* * *

The Grasshopper is a vintage lover’s paradise. Built in the late eighteen hundreds, it was once some sort of bank or government building. Rumor has it that it was once a speakeasy during prohibition too. I’ve never been to the lower basement levels, but it’s supposed to be well restored.

There are three floors, not including the rumored speakeasy basement. The first one has most of their tables and booths with an ornate bar along one wall. The second and third floors both cater to events, from weddings to a bunch of elite kids who want to eat lunch together.

I have no doubt that Blaire got us a small room on the second floor to dine in tonight. Hell, she probably already had one of their mixologists make us a signature cocktail for today only.

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