Page 6 of Dominant

“Oh, yep, look at the time!” I said quickly and cheerfully. “Another great party, Jennifer!”

I whirled around and started walking quickly across the room without taking Alexander’s arm. I’d gone on auto-pilot. Suddenly the best plan I had was to leave - immediately.

“Goodbye, Jonathan!” I heard Alexander’s voice behind me, calling to my dad. Trying to act natural, I turned my head and found my father standing in another small circle of white-haired men. He waved blankly at us - probably wondering if he knew me from somewhere.

“Bye, Dad! Great party, thanks!” I waved back without stopping, my shoes clicking against the hard floor. Reaching the foyer, I hurriedly tried to describe my jacket to the coat check girls. They remembered Alexander’s immediately as he came up beside me, and passed an expensive-looking charcoal wool coat to him. I grabbed my jacket when they found it and opened the door with a racing heart, grateful for the cold night air.

I had never left any party so abruptly in my life. Certainly not an Andilet family party.

I stopped at the driveway and took a breath. Behind me, Alexander shut the door and walked calmly down the wide chateau steps, his expensive-looking coat grazing at the perfectly-pressed lines of his trousers. Everything about him was immaculate and spotless.

“I’m actually fine with the bus,” I said - absurdly, as the road was a good fifteen minute walk from the chateau, down a dark, empty road. A car in the parking lot beeped as he unlocked it with his key fob.

“Don’t be silly.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s too much trouble for you. I live right downtown.”

“I live downtown, too,” he responded, but I hesitated. “Listen,” he said, the corner of his mouth curving upwards in a wicked grin. “I’m not going to tell on you, you know. I don’t know why you wanted to ruin your mother’s dessert, but it was one of the highlights of the night as far as I’m concerned.”

“She’s my stepmother,” I corrected him, not sure why it seemed important, but it did.

“I see,” he nodded. “Come on.” And without looking to see if I was following him, he walked towards his car.

I followed.

He drove a black Porsche sports car. It wasn’t out of place among the Audis and Teslas in the parking lot, but it was probably one of the nicest cars there.

An angel investor, as I understood it, was someone who had money to throw around - a lot of money to throw around. I let myself sneak a glance at the sharp, perfect lines of his profile as he opened my car door. He could’ve been an actor or a model, and I wondered where his money came from.

I buckled my seatbelt as he closed the door firmly and walked around the back of the car. The seats were soft leather and the car smelled new. I realized I was nervous. It had been one thing to flirt with him when he’d been an anonymous stranger at the bar, but knowing he was a partner in Chateau Andilet changed things. I didn’t know what we would talk about, or how much I would have to say. He turned the ignition of the car, bringing it purring to life, and drove down the winery road. To my relief, he didn’t say anything, and I let myself relax into the hushed, smooth suspension of the car as it flew effortlessly over the highway.

“What part of town are you in?” he asked after we’d been driving for a little while.

“Parkdale,” I answered. He shot me a sidelong look.

Parkdale was a poor neighbourhood. A lot of young people lived there because the rent was cheap, and as a result Parkdale had a bustling arts scene, and a bustling bar scene, but was also known for violence, crime, and social services.

“What?” I challenged him.

He shrugged. “Seems an odd address for an Andilet.”

“Well,” I looked out the window, staring at the dark fields whipping by as I thought about my family. “I’m not an Andilet. I have my mother’s last name. Starck.”

“Is that why you didn’t tell me you were part of the family when we met?”

“What would it have mattered? I didn’t know who you were, either.”

“Hmm,” he said, noncommittally.

We fell silent again and then, after a few minutes, he asked, “So what did your stepmother do to you?”

I groaned inwardly, keeping my eyes fixed on the window. “I know it looks bad, but… I have reasons, okay? Can we just leave it at that?”

He scoffed. “C’mon. We’ve got a forty minute drive ahead of us.”

“She’s your business partner. You don’t want to hear about the family drama.”

“There’s nothing I’d like to hear more, Jordan. Besides, you know I love a good prank.” I heard the smile in his voice.