Page 92 of Crushed By Love

She’s so pretty. So perfect. Maybe if I try to emulate her, I’ll do okay.

She’s wearing a strappy black gown that fits her body like a glove and walks like she’s as comfortable here at this party as she would be at home. Her jewels sparkle alongside the demure smile on her perfectly made-up face. Her hair is slicked back to one side, curls cascading over her slender shoulder.

She was meant for this, the kind of person expected to arrive fashionably late.

I wasn’t meant for this, but I’ll fake it.

There’s the yacht club building with a sprawling lawn next to it, and beyond that are rows and rows of docks with boats of varying sizes in the slips. A massive white party tent has been set up with warm twinkle lights strung across the top, tables on one side and a dance floor on the other. The waitstaff are probably melting in their suits as they circle with trays of beautiful hors d’oeuvres and flutes of bubbly champagne, but you wouldn’t know it from the pleasant expressions on their faces.

I was hungry before we left the house but now my stomach is wound tight and I’m not sure I can eat. At least Sybil didn’t make me wear the high heels she originally chose for this outfit. What a disaster that would’ve been.

“Just smile and look pretty. I’ll handle the rest.” Uncle Greg slips his arm through mine and leads me away from Sybil and into the thickest part of the crowd.

I stomp down my annoyance at his comment. All I have to do is look pretty and be quiet and I’ll be accepted by these people? That’s messed up. Did he mean it like he agrees or was he trying to make me feel better about everything? My uncle Gregory doesn’t normally say things that are so blatantly misogynistic, so I give him a pass and go along with his request. It’s not long before everyone we speak to knows I’m his niece who’s going to college at Columbia and that I’ll be interning for him this summer. It’s intimidating but at least they’re all unrecognizable— that is until I catch sight of a familiar face.

“Perry Hargrove, how are you, son? Have you met my niece Arden yet?” Gregory booms, patting Perry’s broad shoulder.

I smile up into Perry’s dark and handsome face, noting the same dimples that caught my eye two years ago. There’s a different air about him tonight than there was before, a more confident one, as if he’s had recent victories.

“We’ve met before, actually,” Perry replies warmly, his approving gaze sweeping over me. “As I recall, she turned me down for a date.”

My smile falls. Just like the spidering-smoke shadows left behind when fireworks burn out, that Fourth of July night is imprinted on my memory. I had said yes to the date with Perry but Ethan got involved and nothing ever came of Perry’s brief flirtation. I assumed the guy forgot all about me. And let’s not forget how I ended up holding Ethan’s hand that night while simultaneously cuddling with Cooper. The whole night had been a lesson in confusion.

“I never turned you down.” I can’t help challenging him. “I agreed to the date, but you never followed through.”

Perry’s eyes flash with something unreadable, something a lot like amusement and a little like irritation. “Then please forgive me. We’ll have to rectify that missed opportunity.”

Uncle Gregory pats me on the back. “She’s single. She’d love to go out with you.”

I blink up at him. Excuse me? Don’t I get a say in this?

“Great. I’ll call you.” Perry says it like he actually means it and then he slips back into the crowd. I’m left standing here wondering what the hell just happened. Perry doesn’t even have my phone number, not that it will stop him now that he’s got Uncle Gregory’s blessing. Hopefully he wasn’t being serious because I’m not looking to date anyone right now.

Especially not someone with ties to Ethan King.

My uncle chuckles and leans in close. “Perry Hargrove is an excellent choice. His family has deep roots in oil and gas, but he’s gone out on his own and is doing very well for himself. He works in television production of all things.”

Television immediately makes me think of the Kings’ media company, but neither of us say a word about the Kings. We never do. It’s like an unspoken rule between us, a rule I caught onto real quick. Fine by me. I’d rather forget I ever knew that horrible family.

As fate would have it, it’s at that exact moment that they arrive.

Thirty-Nine

My uncle spots them the same moment that I do. A wave of anxiety passes through me. I quickly look down, heat flooding my system all the way down to my toes.

“What are they doing here?” His voice is hard. “Conrad hates boats. Always said yachts were a bad investment when really he was covering up his pathetic fear of drowning.”

Drowning is also my fear so I guess that makes me pathetic, too.

My uncle is not actually talking to me, he’s just venting out loud to himself, not that I would know how to properly reply. It’s hard to imagine Conrad King fearing anything, let alone having the same fear I have. But the truth is, I know very little about Conrad King aside from what he did to me.

Aunt Amelia appears next to us, whispering to her husband in a hushed tone. She turns to me, her face ashen. “We’ll be right back, Arden. Please continue to enjoy yourself.”

I nod even though I wasn’t enjoying myself.

The pair of them traipses over to where Conrad and a woman who is definitely not Malory King stand hand in hand, Conrad’s sons not far behind them.

A stronger woman would find somewhere else to rest her eyes, but my weakness gets the better of me, because mine land firmly on Ethan.

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