Page 16 of Foolish Games

Even though I didn’t want him to, I expected it. As silly as it is, I’m crushed that he didn’t come after me.

I step into the elevator and try to hold myself together. The floors tick by with agonizing slowness before the car finally comes to a stop. The doors whisk open, and I step out, only to see Jacob Darling kissing his brother’s girlfriend up against the wall in the hallway. I rush out and pass them, trying to find a quiet place before the tears come.

The dining room sits darkened, the doors open and the tables empty and bare. Relieved to find an empty room and some privacy, I step inside and let out a breath. The moment I do, the tears overflow down my cheeks. I feel like such a fool for crying, for arguing with Chaz in the middle of a formal event, even for believing he’d never hurt me.

The next minute, I hear giggling and a low murmur as the couple from the hall has the same idea I did. I know I won’t have time to fix my makeup and get myself together in time, so I grab my skirt up and hurry across the room, barely noticing my sore feet as I rush for a side exit. I shove it open and burst out, ready to be alone in the blustery fall night.

I freeze solid as an ice sculpture the moment I step outside.

A dozen staff members stand around smoking cigarettes, their shirts unbuttoned and untucked, their gloves off, their manner casual. All conversation and laughter ceases as they turn to stare at me with my red formal gown drawn up, tears streaking my cheeks.

“Uh, ma’am,” says one of the younger servers. He straightens from where he’s leaning on the wall and gives a slight bow, like we’re still in the dining room. “Can I get you anything?”

“Nah, don’t jump up for her,” Sebastian says, slouching against the railing. “We’re off duty, boys. But maybe we can bottle up some of those rich girl tears, so the next time we spill our champagne, we can dump those out too.”

A couple of the guys laugh, and I burn with humiliation. Sebastian can turn on the charm for my grandmother all he wants, but I know what he’s about. I go to school with him every day. I’ve watched him torment my boyfriend, my friends, and everyone who’s beneath him on the social ladder. He’s mean.

“You okay?” asks a petite girl with small but enviable curves who’s standing so close to Sebastian that she’s practically in his arms when he turns toward me.

“I’m fine,” I mumble, lowering my head and swiping at my face, hating that they’re all staring. Having all these strangers in work uniforms pitying me is worse than having the people upstairs in their designer dresses staring.

“Come on, you can tell us,” Sebastian taunts, flicking his cigarette through the railing. “Did you break a nail? Spill some Cristal on your dancing shoes?”

I hate how he makes me feel small, how his words cut through me the way most people can’t. Sebastian brings out every insecurity and gives me new ones I didn’t even know I had. And more than that, I never know when he’s going to play nice and make me think his opinion is worth caring about, and when he’s going to let his true colors show.

I turn away and take a deep breath, running my fingers under my eyes to wipe away any tears and makeup left. A couple girls are sitting on the curb next to an electrical box, where two more guys sit having a smoke. Beside them, a couple of dumpsters sit beyond an elevated door where trucks must back up to unload directly. Sebastian and the tiny girl stand on a concrete ramp with a railing to the left of the door, and a few others stand along the ramp and the area around it. I take it all in while I collect my battered emotions.

“Actually, I got in a fight with Chaz,” I say, turning to Sebastian and lifting my chin, refusing to let him belittle me. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

He lets out a snort of breath and shakes his head. “Why are you with that little dickweed anyway? Oh, I remember. Because he’s from a good family.”

He laughs bitterly, glancing at the others, who all snicker like they’re in on some inside joke.

“I’m not a snob,” I say, squaring my bare shoulders.

“Right,” Sebastian says. “That’s why you’re out here hanging out with the help.”

More laughter follows his statement.

I glance around, a knot forming in my throat before I meet his eyes again. “I don’t think I’m better than you, Sebastian.”

“Good,” he says, resting his hands on the railing beside his hips and propping his foot up on the lower rung. “Because you’re not. But we do things differently in our circles, so why don’t you run back to mommy and daddy? We’re just taking a smoke break. We’ll go clean up the kitchen in a minute. We’re not looking for any trouble.”

I shoot him an incredulous look. “Are you serious right now? You think I came out here to tell you to get back to work?”

“No,” he says. “You came out here crying because your puny little boyfriend probably forgot to tell you that you’re pretty enough times tonight. That’s your world. This is ours. So just leave us alone and let us have it. And don’t go running your mouth about us when you go back in there.”

“What would I run my mouth about?”

A few guys chuckle and shake their heads. “You really think I’m going to spell it out for you so you can get us fired? Get outta here, Princess.”

I take a step back, feeling stupid. Maybe they’re taking a longer break than they’re allowed, or one of those cigarettes isn’t filled with tobacco, or maybe it’s something else. Whatever the case, I resent being called a snitch. I’m not some goody-two-shoes who’s going to tattle on them like we’re in kindergarten.

“I’m not going to get anyone fired,” I say, drawing myself up. “And if something’s going on… Maybe I could help.”

“You don’t belong here, and it doesn’t concern you,” Sebastian says, tipping his head back and looking down at me coolly. “You couldn’t handle our crowd, anyway.”

“How do you know?”

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