Page 49 of One Wealthy Wedding

“Don’t bother. I’m not offended.” I point at her plate. “Eat the eggs.” My insides feel like they’ve been turned to stone. Did you think she saw you clearly? That’s a crock of shit. Catherine was my friend once, but not anymore.

“We should try to get along.”

“We’re getting along just fine.” I shrug and scoop more eggs into my mouth without tasting them. A waste of good caviar.

“No, we’re not. I mean, brunch was nice, but we have a year of this. A year.” She leans forward, pointing her fork at me.

“So? This isn’t real. Or have you forgotten?” Because I did. Foolish of me. I’m reminded now of what Catherine really thinks of me.

Her face goes blank. “You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right.” I scrape my plate.

“Don’t act like an ass.” When I look up at her, her eyes are flashing with anger. Meek Cat Peterson is gone, and in her place is Catherine, a woman, not a girl, who is very much not happy with me.

“I am an ass.” I give her a smug grin that I’m sure doesn’t reach my eyes. “You’re right, you know, about me. My reputation isn’t overblown. I’m just as bad as they say I am.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” she says stubbornly.

I snort and take my plate to the sink. “Are you going to try and save me with the power of love? Don’t bother. My soul is blacker than the space where a heart should be.”

“Really, Theo?” She gives me a skeptical look.

“I’m bad, baby.” I wipe my hands on the towel and stalk toward her. I need her to understand. “I’m irredeemable.” I run a finger over the silky-smooth skin of her throat. Her pulse is fluttering there, fast and obvious. “I might be cleaning up my act for my investors, but deep down, I’ll never change. You want to walk on the wild side?”

She swallows hard under my hand.

My fingers capture the motion. “You wanted to once, princess, but you only got a taste. There’s so much more.”

She licks her lips. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I let my hand drop. She stands. “This is fake, Theo. No flirting with me.”

“You call that flirting?” I choke out the words. “You’ve never been flirted with, then. That was an invitation.”

Her cheeks are pink. “You know what I mean. This could get…messy. We shouldn’t be flirting or touching at home.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Can’t help it.” I wink at her, even as her rejection washes over me like cold water closing over my head. “I flirt with everyone.”

“I know. I’m not special.” She shrugs. “But still, I think we should be careful.”

“Scared you’ll fall in love with me? I understand. I am irresistible.” A lie so laughable that I’m surprised I can tell it with a straight face. I have never been irresistible to Catherine Peterson.

“No,” she says stubbornly. “This is fake. Better not to toe any lines is all.”

“I thought you wanted to get along.”

She grabs her bag. “We’re getting along just fine. I’ll be in the upstairs living room if you need me.”

“You’re running, Catherine,” I call after her, as she scurries out.

17

Cat

I’m not running. Theo just makes my insides feel weird and my head fuzzy. I need five minutes alone. And if I avoid him for the rest of the week, so what? It’s not that hard in a mansion that takes up an entire city block.

The following Friday, I’m just putting my bag down from class when the doorbell rings. It takes several minutes to get to the front door, depending on where you are in the house, and Theo doesn’t have staff, so I’ve taken to sprinting for deliveries. I slide down the marble hall and nearly collide with the door. I’m waiting for a blouse to be delivered that I need for our presentations next week. I want to look the part in front of my fellow students and future colleagues. Not for the first time, I wonder what possessed me to pack mostly jeans and sweaters when I fled Rockwood. Maybe because they were the things my stepmother hated to see me in. All the ghastly Chanel suits? I left them piled in a heap on my bedroom floor.

Talk about cutting off my nose to spite my face. I’m a fool, and now I’ll be wearing a Zara blouse and it will cost me one precious hour of tips.

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