Page 64 of SNOB

Passing more tiny easels with large artwork, I move up the stairs, following. My heels click against the marble as I take in more of Mac’s home. Iconic artwork framed in gold sits above intricately carved wood panelling. Historic oil paintings hang between gold sconces. Combined with my dress floating behind me, I'm a total gothic princess.

“That sounds tough.” Following Mac’s voice is easy as it rumbles through the halls beyond the noise of the party. “Beau was a friend. It’s been hard for me too.” Mac sounds sincere. Honest. Not like the Mac I’m used to. But as always, he’s full of shit. “Let’s move somewhere quieter."

My stomach twists when they disappear into a room. The golden plaque next to it reads ‘Study.’ Following, I make sure she doesn’t notice as I press my back against the wall. The sound of tumbling ice comes from the room followed by the classic sound of pouring liquid. He’s making them drinks.

“I wish men my age were this charming,” Miss Laval says. My hand flies to my stomach, hearing the coo in her voice. “You’re such a gentleman. Thank you for helping me during this trying time.” She’s milking her son’s disappearance for her own gain. No wonder Beau was so mad at her. She only cares when it benefits her.

“We need community in a time of grief,” Mac says, my back still pressed to the wall. Peering around the doorframe, her bare leg presses against his. They sit on an old leather chaise, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves surrounding them. A large window streams in soft light from the setting sun, shining on the ornate rug beneath their feet. They’re lucky this hallway is empty or someone could see a scene from The Graduate. Both phones sit beside her, Mac’s arm almost under her ass.

Why are they so close? Mac’s meant to be distracting her, not seducing her.

“Thank you for being here.” There’s a breathiness to her voice. A neediness. Gross. Mac gets closer and it’s not until my nails dig into my skin that I notice I’m making two tight fists.

“How else can I help you?” Mac asks, moving closer, leaving no space between them “Or, how else can we help each other?”

“I can think of a way,” she says.

Mac puts his drink on the golden bar cart next to them before he takes her glass, placing it next to his.

He leans in. My stomach tightens.

She leans in too. Nausea fills my gut.

When their lips connect, the hallway tilts and my body freezes.

Focus! This is your shot!

With a deep breath, I push that feeling in my stomach aside and take my time entering the room. Their lips stay locked, Miss Laval’s over-the-top moans filling the room as Mac moves on top of her. Mac must sense me in the room as he gestures for me to get lower. I do, dropping to my hands and knees.

It’s best to replace the sounds of their makeout with a song in my head. Anything. But nothing comes. Of course, Mac would use his good looks and charm to get ahead. And I hate that it makes my chest this tight.

I’m behind the chaise when I reach up, tapping around for the phone before something cold hits my hand. Pulling it down, I open my eyes to see Beau’s phone.

Bingo.

Looking up, Mac has one eye on me, and it’s hard not to watch as she pulls him closer. Mac shoos me away with his hand.

“Oh, Mac,” Beau’s mom moans and I have to curl my lips in so I don’t hurl.

Once I’m back at the door, I pull it closed with a slam.

I don’t want to witness any more of that and neither should anyone else.

Moving back to the staircase, I grip the rails overlooking the gala. Either those glasses of champagne went to my head or this mansion spins like a fun house.

“You look like you could use this.” A glass of brown liquid appears in front of my face.

Gray leans against the rail, clinking his glass to mine. “Welcome to the good life.” He laughs when I down my drink before handing me his. Then he snaps his fingers, summoning a waiter for more. One appears in an instant, swapping our empty glasses for new ones. He clinks his glass to mine again. “Cheers, Valley Girl.” Mac and Miss Laval’s rendezvous stay in my head, Gray’s words distant. That’s when I remember the phone in my hand. Putting it under my arm, I keep it out of view. “Did I see Mac disappear with Beau's mom?”

“No!” I’m quick to respond, my eyes wide.

Gray raises an eyebrow.

Way to play it cool.

“Maybe?” I wince, hoping that telling the truth would less suspicious.

“You jealous?”

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