Page 57 of Bitter Secrets

As the guys chuckled, she scowled for show before she moved onto Lincoln. “How are you doing at Harvard?”

He shrugged. “I’m getting by.”

“He’s lying,” Julius announced. “He’s a nerd and coasting through his courses. It’s sickening.”

She raised her brows. “Yeah? Maybe you can give me some pointers.”

Lincoln gave her a once-over before he drawled, “I don’t think Ford would approve.”

As they ribbed one another, she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. They didn’t sound like the sons of the most powerful men in New York. As she aged and had become aware of the importance of alliances, she wondered if she would marry one of them. It always left her feeling unsettled and slightly ill because she knew them too well. She secretly hoped for a foreigner like Ariana. She had been stunned when Ford offered for her and Dad accepted. Ford was Ariana’s age, so she hadn’t grown up with him. She was grateful for a mature husband who was already established and ready to settle down, unlike her childhood playmates.

Although she could have spent the whole night with the guys, she caught sight of Colette, who jerked her chin, a signal for her to circulate. She excused herself and moved onto the next group, which had Kimie in it. As the men talked, she gave Kimie pointers about some of the more approachable wives who might take her under their wing before she got the signal to move on once again. She wondered idly if Colette had a timer in her pocket that vibrated every fifteen minutes.

It was easy to jump from one clique to the next, since she knew seventy percent of the guests. Dad’s circle didn’t change much. He only did business with people that had longevity. In this business, people fell from grace with shocking regularity. Some of these men, she’d known all her life. The only thing that changed with any frequency was the women on their arms. It was the same people, same jokes, and same look of derision from those who knew her origins. Most were polite, but there were some snide remarks about how grateful she should be that Ford had lowered himself to taking on the defective Hennessy. She let the negativity slide off her and sifted through names for her mystery man as she answered questions about her studies and accepted congratulations on her engagement.

When her energy flagged, she retired once more to the bathroom like a smoker in desperate need of a hit. The bathroom attendant’s brows rose, but she made no comment as she locked herself in a stall again.

Ten minutes later, she was fortified enough to face the masses. This time, she hung back and examined the clusters of people who naturally gravitated toward one another. Dad was nowhere in sight. So far, she managed to avoid him, and if she had her way, she could get through the night without facing him. She’d made decent headway through the guest list. Was there anyone she hadn’t…

Through a break in the crowd, she saw a lone figure standing on the opposite end of the ballroom. Several women passed in front of her, blocking her view, so she sidestepped to see if her eyes were playing tricks on her. No, it hadn’t been a figment of her imagination. In a room filled with black tuxedos and muted colors, this man wore a navy sports jacket and jeans. A server wearing a suit passed in front of him, highlighting that even the hired help was dressed better than him. Was he someone’s plus one who forgot to mention that this was a formal event? She was surprised he’d been allowed into the party. The fact that he hadn’t left to change once he realized he wasn’t dressed properly said a lot about his character. As much as people wanted to believe they wanted to stand out, it was actually the opposite. The need to fit in was a compulsion they couldn’t control. Case in point, every man present was dressed in unrelieved black… except for the stranger, who seemed cool and composed even though he looked like a fish out of water.

He made no move to speak to anyone, and no one detached themselves from the crowd to go to him. Was he an invited guest? She crossed paths with everyone on the list Colette had given her two weeks ago, which meant he was a last-minute addition. An intriguing one. He was a large man. She could tell that even from this distance. His features were dark and exotic. Was he foreign? Maybe he didn’t speak enough English to converse easily?

“Daydreaming?”

She jolted and glanced at Dad’s crony, Warren, who she had deliberately avoided. How he managed to creep up on her was a mystery when he was huffing and puffing and dabbing sweat from his forehead.

“Uncle Warren,” she said brightly, knowing he hated being addressed so. “I’m just making sure I haven’t missed anyone. Have you made your rounds?”

“Course I have. You think I’d waste an opportunity like this?”

“Where’s Angelica and Felicity?”

“At home where they belong.”

His tone made it clear that he didn’t believe his daughters had any business being here. At least Dad didn’t have that sexist view of women. He expected his daughters to do better than their male counterparts.

“I think they’d surprise you if you gave them a chance,” she said mildly.

“This is no place for women.”

She didn’t reply to that ridiculous statement, she just stared pointedly at Colette, who was surrounded by a group of men who hung on to her every word. Warren followed her gaze and grunted.

“Maximus got lucky with Colette. She’s one in a million.”

She blinked. A compliment from Warren was as rare as seeing a man wearing jeans at Dad’s events.

“My girls show no aptitude for business. You either got it or you don’t.” A pause and then, “I told Maximus he’s wasting his time sending you to Wharton’s. He lucked out with Colette and Ariana. Isn’t that enough?”

She ignored the insult, having had enough experience with him to know he was just getting started. Warren was one of those guests that everyone avoided like the plague. He was crass and as subtle as a jack hammer, but everyone tolerated him because he was so good at making money. Warren was the epitome of rich and miserable. He complained about everyone and everything. She had never heard him say a kind word aside from that shocking compliment he’d just paid Colette, and she knew without a doubt he would never say it to her sister’s face.

“Heard Ford offered for you,” Warren continued.

She beamed. “Yes.”

“He could have done better.”

“Yes, he could have,” she agreed, refusing to show that he was getting to her. And he wasn’t. She was still riding high on her story. Even Warren couldn’t put a damper on her excitement. And there was still the matter of the informally dressed man. Everyone was giving him a wide berth. It was Colette and Ariana’s job as hostesses to make sure no one was excluded from the festivities. She tried to catch Colette’s eye, but her sister was deep in conversation with Parker Baldwin, and she wasn’t about to interrupt.

---