Page 79 of Heartless Legacy

I don’t trust perfect people, because they expect their partners to be perfect. That’s too much stress for a relationship. LJ’s got another fifteen credit course load. She’s under enough stress as it is, without having to exude some arbitrary level of perfectionism that doesn’t actually exist. Plus, he likes to keep her close, just like her mother does.

This isn’t me being jealous that my friend is in a relationship, or because we’re not spending a lot of time together. I don’t feel like he’s stealing her attention away from me or anything like that. But I don’t feel comfortable with the two of them. Sometimes you can look at people and tell they fit. I’m looking at them, and their piecesdon’tfit. I want her to have someone who thinks she’s as amazing as I do. I just don’t think it’s him.

Sighing, I force myself to stay where I am and to stay silent about my feelings. I know better than to tell LJ that herrelationship is doomed. Me saying he’s all wrong for her will only make her want him even more. He’s attractive, and from a good family. He’s everything her parents want for her. So she’ll double down on the relationship just to make them happy.

Her mother’s smiling and doting on her, and there haven’t been any more comments about LJ needing to try harder to fit in. I doubt she even hears about how bad an influence I am on her anymore -since I haven’t been here- and now that I’m back, my so-called influence no longer exists.

We all know how I feel about fitting in. I’d rather stand out. Except for tonight. Tonight I’m trying to fit in too. That’s the only reason I’m at this fundraiser. I need the legacy families to see I’m not a threat, and the league members to see that I’m not a liability. It was easier to get noticed when The Trium were hovering around me. This time, I have to generate that curiosity on my own.

The doors across the reception hall swing open and another round of servers step into the room holding trays. My stomach grumbles, reminding me I haven’t eaten since lunch. I’m starving, but there’s no way I’m touching the food out here. Everyone is eating and drinking, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I’m also not going to stand here for another two hours hungry. That’ll just make me less friendly.

I ease around the side of the room, making my way into the hall and follow a server to the kitchen the catering staff is working out of. I pause at the counter, perusing the foods and ingredients. Nobody pays me any attention as they shuffle around the kitchen, plating food and towers of champagne glasses to go out onto the floor or returning empty trays to be refilled.

There’s a pan on the stove with shrimp in it, steam still rising from the bottom. I grab one of the fancy plastic goblets they’re using for shrimp cocktail and scoop some shrimp into it, taking amoment to arrange the shrimp around the rim, then open a fresh jar of cocktail sauce, pouring a healthy dollop in the middle. I feel relatively safe about eating freshly cooked food and opening the bottle of cocktail sauce, because nobody knew I’d be coming in here to feed myself.

Next, I grab one of the flaky croissants on the counter and look around until I find the chicken salad. I use my hands to split the bread, smother chicken salad on one side and smash the two halves together. The only other thing I need right now is something to drink. They shouldn’t mind me popping open a new bottle of their fancy champagne, right? So I do, and instead of using a flute, I pour some into a second cocktail goblet. This pour will last me until I can leave.

Carefully balancing my dishes and drink in both hands, I return to the reception room and find an empty cocktail table near the wall. I look for LJ as I eat, but a laugh on the other side of the room grabs my attention first. I don’t know the guy laughing, but I recognize the man he’s trying to impress.

My spine stiffens when he sees me staring. He hooks his cane over his forearm and heads directly for me. Great. I wasn’t trying to gainhisattention. I exhale, trying to calm my breathing and take an enthusiastic gulp of my bubbly. If I’d have known this confrontation would happen, I would have poured something stronger.

“Thea,” He greets as he stops on the other side of my table, setting his cane on top of it. It catches me off guard that he calls me by my preferred name, and not Theona, like everyone else around here insists on doing.

“Mr. Cox.”

His brows arch slightly at my greeting. This isn’t a league event. I’m well in my right to address him by his last name, and besides, I’m on the verge of getting kicked out of their little society, so why would I curtsey and shit?

“I was surprised to hear that you had been incarcerated.”

“Surprised? Really? Most people would say that, given my upbringing, it was bound to happen, eventually.”

“Perhaps that’s true.” He study’s my face, looking for something. “Nonetheless, the circumstances of your arrest and continued detainment without legal proceedings… Well, that has us all a little concerned.”

“It had me concerned, too. I’m just glad my last lawyer actually paid attention in law school and fought for my release.”

“I’m pleased that’s the case as well. It’s one thing to accuse someone of a crime. It’s another to accuse a legacy family and league prospect of a crime. We take those things very seriously.”

He stares over my head, appearing lost in thought, before returning his gaze to mine. He fiddles with his cuffs; the move reminding me so much of his son. My stomach rolls. I take deep breaths to keep from throwing up. Speaking again, he says, “Rest assured, we’ll be delving into the matter further.”

He can dig into anything he wants. I don’t care if he figures out the truth. I was locked away. Even if his precious society wasn’t directly involved, they’re still culpable, because that means nobody’s paying attention to his son. And if Malcolm can get away with it, how many others are doing the same thing?

“I look forward to seeing how you navigate through this, Thea.”

I swallow the extra saliva in my mouth. “This?”

“Your current standing within The League, and future challenges.”

“Ah,” is all I say, because I’m interested in seeing what challenges they come up with.

“I must say, I am a little surprised to see you here tonight. I thought these types of events bored you.”

“Oh, I’m bored. But, I’m here trying to be a good little legacy granddaughter, and foster friendship and community.”

He arches a salt and pepper brow. “How is that working out for you this evening?”

Giving him an honest answer, I admit, “I raided the kitchen and fixed my food and drink, because I don’t trust any of you assholes not to poison me.” I stare at him, waiting for him to respond. When he doesn’t, I say, “This is the part where you’re supposed to say, I’m being ridiculous.”

“Why would I tell such a blatant lie? You’re a legacy. Up until your unfortunate absence, you were performing remarkably well. Better than most of your fellow first year prospects. Someone deciding to get you out of the way by using poison isn’t beyond the scope of what we’re all capable of.” His head tilts to the side. “You look surprised I’ve said that.”

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