Page 58 of Reckless Temptation

Maybe it was just as well that I stuck around for this fundraiser. It might distract me from thinking about her for a while.

I just had to get there. Mom was already there since she’d driven separately on the way from the salon. Tiffany was also coming in her car because she was at another salon to have her hair done. It wasn’t like Mom and Tiffany ever tried to get along or be close. They were distant like George and I were. Yet, I was stuck with the older man now.

He drove, surprising me that he didn’t want a driver to get us to the party. And as I was his only passenger, he saw this as a prime time to ask me about my future and slightly lecture me about finding my way forward after Dad’s death.

“Even if it’s changing majors, it’s a step in the right direction,” he said.

Yeah, if I knew what direction I wanted to go.I let his lecture filter through me without sinking in. I had to stress about the very real chance that he’d find out about Mom’s infidelity and kick us out. In that case, I wouldn’t be in college at all anymore.

Still, I pretended to listen and didn’t act like an asshole, blowing him off on the ride there.

Don’t bite the hand that feeds… while it’s there.

I liked George as a person. He was fair and ethical, if overly serious at times. We had nothing in common to make me like him more. The fact that he and Dad knew each other in the bachelor’s degree days was enough of a connection. And he had been there during Dad’s illness, then fatal accident, a solid and steady family friend. I couldn’t determine whether he actually loved Mom since they weren’t affectionate, looking more like roommates than anything else, but I was grateful that he had seen his friendship with Dad as something to continue after his death by providing for me and Mom.

We arrived before George’s lecture could annoy me, and I didn’t waste a second to walk around. He drove me here, but we wouldn’t stay together. He would be near Mom as they mingled and bullshitted with all the important people whose egos needed to be stroked. For better or worse, I was on my own, and I hoped no one would bother a nobody like me. Tiffany would keep her distance too, all the more to suck up and kiss ass to those she deemed worthy of her time.

I found the bar easily enough, and I got a drink to help me tolerate this evening. At a quick glance, it was the same old. All these events were identical. Frou-frou décor, a live quartet playing music, tailored suits and elegant gowns. No expenses would be spared for the booze and food, either. Every year, the specific fundraiser hired a different caterer as a “demonstration” of how the elite and wealthy wanted to pay it forward to the community they didn’t actually give a shit about.

Mom noticed me across the room. Each time our gazes caught, she almost smiled, and it pained me that she was so distant from me, her son. I wished she would lean on me for help. I wished even more that she wouldn’t do something reckless and drasticlike cheating on George. But I knew better than to approach her here. Her position was next to George. Unless I went up to speak with her, she wouldn’t say as much as a hello while I tried to hang out in the background until I could bolt.

On that note…

I checked my phone to see if Pierce had replied yet. He said he’d come and pick me up later, if I wanted.

When I lifted my head and faced forward, I realized that what—or who—I wanted was right here.

Sabrina.

She lowered her gaze, caught red-handed as she watched me. Of all places I could have run into her, this fundraiser wasn’t at the top of the list. I struggled to overcome the shock of spotting her. Happiness bloomed at the mere sight of her in my presence. Curious how she’d feel about me after giving me her virginity, I wished I could approach her. Just to be near her. To talk. To hold her. To… somehow let her know that I was glad I was her first and that I wanted her again. And again.

I wouldn’t be telling her that I was getting possessive and obsessed. Admitting how hung up I was over her should be something that I’d do in private. While she wove through the crowd in a catering outfit, it was clear this wasn’t the time or place.

Besides…

I looked around the crowded venue for my family members, and that was using the term loosely. Tiffany didn’t feel like a sibling at all, but she was here, near the fountain carved of ice. If shesaw me talking to Sabrina, she’d know it was over. She’d realize that I didn’t hold animosity for her enemy and competition.

And being an asshole to the sexy, curvy brunette was out of the question, too. I didn’t want to be a jerk toward her for the sake of making her miserable. I’d discovered the critical distinction between being argumentative and combative with Sabrina and the cruelty of bullying her. I did enjoy going against that stubborn woman, but only for the sake of riling her up and feeling so alive until we both snapped and collided with each other.

What Tiffany wanted didn’t matter—yet, it still had to. If I could prevent George finding out that my mom had cheated, I would do whatever it took. Now, I had to balance my attraction and growing feelings for Sabrina.

Easy, right?

I sipped my drink and figured my only wise course of action would be distance. Watching Sabrina throughout this party put a new angle on the concept of stalking and following her. But I didn’t approach. I couldn’t. Tiffany would be watching. Mom would be too.

This connection Sabrina and I had forged had to remain secret for now.

Unfortunately, that meant watching Sabrina suffer all night long. Tiffany was giddy with glee to see Sabrina working here like a low-class commoner. It shifted the scales. Here, Sabrina was “inferior” as a catering employee, no doubt helping her mother, Melody. At school, Sabrina was the smarter, better student, probably George’s top pick for that internship at his firm.

And my stepsister was horrible to her. Making her trip. Causing her to spill stuff. Each time Tiffany brushed past her, I saw her lips moving as she likely put her down and taunted her. I noticed that Sabrina avoided going near the professors who had been at the dinner at the mansion. Still, they spotted her. Sabrina held her head high and said hello, not giving any indication that she’d let herself be embarrassed about having an ordinary job aside from her studies.

I bit my lip or ground my molars throughout it all. Every time Tiffany—or Rachel, since she’d come as well—picked on Sabrina, I fought the urge to run up there and intercept them. Doing so would out how I really felt about this intelligent spitfire, though, so I had to refrain.

The final straw came too soon, though.

In slow motion, I watched from across the room as Tiffany stuck her foot out in front of Sabrina. Just as she moved forward, Sabrina tripped while holding a tray of discarded wine glasses.

And down she went.

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