Page 109 of The Friend Zone

“Your mom insisted I wear this dress. It’s a one-off design that probably costs more than most people make in one year.”

Jagger places a soft kiss on my temple. “Remind me to thank her later.”

“Ah, here you are.” Keith Connelly smiles, as we reach his table. “I was telling the Dean how impressed I was by your presentation, Bay. If this is the quality of the education Star Cove provides, I might have to double my donation. I don’t remember learning how to put together such thorough data and information when I attended here. It’s testament to the impeccable job the faculty and administrators do at Star Cove, right Ted?”

It’s no secret that the Dean has never liked me.

Even now that he has no choice but to play nice, the expression on his face is tight; his mouth pursed as if he had been sucking on a lemon.

“Star Cove provides the best education money can buy,” he confirms. “Miss Woods is no exception.”

The way he says this feels as close to an insult as he can get away in polite company, and I file that tidbit away for later.

I’ve always been an exemplary student and I’ve worked hard to uphold the values of this school, so it’s hard to understand why the Dean dislikes me so much. The only realistic explanation is Bianca’s dislike of both me and Lake.

First the Dean’s daughter wanted Luca and my sister got in her way; then she wanted the Zeta presidency and despite her every attempt to oust me, she has nothing to show for it.

The only thing Bianca has that I don’t, is Topher on her arm. But anyone who gravitates within our social circle knows how Topher has been going out of his way to try to get back with me. He treats Bianca as a convenient second choice, when he doesn’t want to go stag, like tonight.

Oblivious to all of that, the Dean proceeds with further introductions, probably more for Jagger’s benefit than for mine. “Have you met my wife Martha? And I’m sure you’re familiar with Rupert and Christine Mumford, since your families are practically neighbors.”

While Jagger shakes hands with Topher’s father, Christine’s eyes are trained on me. “I have to give it to you, Bay. You’re one resourceful young lady. After my son came to his senses and found himself a more suitable partner, you bounced right back.” As she looks at Bianca, her eyes shine with the kind of approval I would have killed to see there last year when Topher brought me home for Christmas.

“It’s nice to see you, Christine.” I keep my tone polite and detached, pretending not to detect her blatant provocation.

The frost between me and my ex-boyfriend’s mother doesn’t escape Rachel’s shrewd intuition. “How are you, Christine? You look like something is vexing you. I’m sure it must be because Topher has let Bay slip through his fingers.”

Christine Mumford’s fingers tighten around the stem of her Champagne flute with white-knuckle force, I’m surprised the stem doesn’t snap in two.

“I had no doubt you and Bay would hit it off,” her tone is indignant. “New money fits well with up-and-coming influencers, or whatever it is Bay does.”

Rachel Connelly has been the picture of sweet and welcoming since we met yesterday at brunch. Her smile stays firmly in place, as she lowers her voice, as if she was about to share a secret. “You’re absolutely right. Bay fits right in with us. We admire the intelligence and drive of someone whose ancestors didn’t sail here with money stolen from the old country, where they were undesirable.”

Christine’s mouth forms a shocked ‘o’, as her eyes narrow with fury.

I’ll always wonder what she would have said if the background music wasn’t cut off and the Dean’s voice didn’t greet us from the podium, inviting us to take our seats at the tables we’ve been assigned to.

He issues a brief welcome, reminding everyone of the fundraising purpose of this alumni gala. “But for now, let’s enjoy a delicious dinner and some fine wine. You’ll hear from me and from several members of our faculty and our student body right before dessert.”

This is the kind of venue where seating is assigned, so I walk around the table looking for the card with my name on it.

“Bay.” Topher moves my chair for me. “You’re sitting next to me. What a wonderful coincidence.”

Fuck. I look at my name card, hoping that Topher misread it somehow. Sure enough, however, we’re sitting side by side. The only saving grace is that Keith Connelly is sitting on my other side, and Jagger is right across from me. I guess I can endure Topher for one meal. We’re surrounded by people, including his parents, so how bad can it be?

“Bay,” he says after we eat our first course in tense silence. “Would you like another glass of Champagne?” He leans right into my space, his warm breath fanning my neck.

I keep my eyes on my empty plate, moving to the side as discreetly as I can to avoid his attempt to whisper in my ear. “I’m ok. I actually don’t mind walking to the bar to get one.” I say, looking for any excuse to get a couple of minutes away from his persistent gaze.

“Nonsense,” he argues. “I can go get you a drink.”

I roll my eyes. “Sure, if you want.” As long as he walks away, I guess I’ll consider it a win. I hope there’s a huge line at the bar, so he stays gone as long as possible.

“Here we go, sexy girl.”

Topher returns faster than I hoped.

“Thanks.” I take the flute from his hand, fighting the urge to shudder when he makes sure his fingers brush against mine.

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