Page 110 of Home to the Hollow

“They’d better not bother any of us or I’ll be far less kind than I was to my mother,” Teddy growls, grabbing my hand to tug me into the crowd of dancing people.

Smiling to myself, I pull Wolfie along as well, following him as he seeks the rest of our motley crew. “Careful, Edgar Olivier Boone III. People might think you’re off the market.”

“I am.”

Wolfie chuckles, pointing to where Prez and Doyle have been cornered by the Behles. They aren’t yelling, but the energy radiating from my Irish lover is intense. I highly doubt that asshole is going to lie off—if he didn’t realize this isn’t the venue for the discussion before, my arrival won’t change his behavior. I look for Seer, seeing her in the corner with someone I don’t know.

I’m going to have to employ the ‘loud club, but we need a distraction to escape’ protocol from Germany. Turning to Teddy, I tap his shoulder so he’ll stop. “I need you to lift me up high. The guys need a distraction, and I know how to get one.”

He gives me a doubtful look, but leans down, cupping his hands for me to step on. Grasping his shoulders, I step up, letting him lift far above the crowd like a goddamned ESPN cheerleader. Seer sees me and her eyes widen. I grin, moving my hands and arms in a series of motion a little like baseball signs so she knows what I need. Once I finish, she nods, winking at me as she excuses herself from the chatty person to do as I ask.

If this works, I’ll keel over. It’s not something Seer and I haven’t done before, but this is Whistler’s Hollow, not Europe. I don’t know if starting an impromptu flash mob will work, but I’m willing to try. Hell, these idiots couldn’t think worse of me if they tried, so it’s not like I’ll ruin my sterling reputation.

My bestie comes running up, her eyes dancing as she whispers in my ear. A chuckle falls from my lips as I hear what she chose—this should be pretty interesting when played by a small orchestra with the smoky chanteuse they have singing. I’m surprised they agreed, but I guess everyone needs a little amusement at a stiff-necked party like this, right?

We take our places in the middle of the dance floor, waiting for the first chord from the strings section to draw attention. When the sharp sounds of the bows being drawn hard across them echoes in the room, everything stops. All the whispers and noise of the crowd goes silent as we dance along with the beat, and when the singer finally chimes in, a roar of applause starts.

As we move through the first verse of Queen B’s song, girls come running up, joining in despite their ballgowns and heels. Before the end of the bridge, there are almost thirty students and alumnae slinking through the most famous performance of this song as if we practiced for weeks. The beat drops for a second, and I look down, feeling the touch of something at my feet.

Isn’t that a kick in the ass?

Bending for one of the low squats in the chorus, I lift the waiting Isis to my neck, letting her coil around my arms and shoulders. The added weight makes the dance harder, but luckily, I’m not a wilting Southern flower. The group tightens in the middle of the song, and a chair appears out of nowhere. Sitting down, I push and pull at the surrounding girls, laughing as I watch the huge dresses fan around me like giant set pieces when the girls kneel. Seer hops up, jogging over to grab Doyle and Prez for the next part and I groan. This is going to end up on the front page of the fucking paper, for sure.

However, it freed them from Mr. Behle’s clutches and that was the plan, right?

Surprisingly, Doyle steps up quickly, playing his part as he lets me grab his shirt and dance with him during the bridge. He moves fluidly, following along as I lead him around the writhing mass of girls. Prez comes up behind me, holding onto my hips as we move. The other girls break into the crowd, pulling tuxedoed guys into the middle to dance with them, and I wiggle my way to back to let them take my stage.

After all, it’s their ball, and I’ve got the attention of the guys I want.

The song changes to another up beat dance number, and I hold on to Doyle’s neck. I may have started something that can’t be stopped—there’s a line forming by the conductor’s stand. Boys are waving bills at them, presumably to request songs their dates will want to dance to. I may have completely ruined the dance floor for the rest of the night. As my eyes coast over the crowd, I see women of all ages bumping and grinding and having a ball.

Maybe that’s not such a bad thing. All they needed was a little encouragement, and this became about having fun instead of showing off like a bunch of rich assholes.

Wonder what price I’ll pay for that?

* * *

When we finally take a seat atthe table ringing the dance floor, I’m beat. Starting a dance mob is hard work—props to people who do this shit for a living. I fan myself with my hand, leaning back on my chair. Isis slithers onto the table, coiling near my arm and I sigh in relief. “Thank you, friend. I need a brief break.”

Wolfie appears with two Manhattans and Prez in tow, grinning broadly. “The line at the bar is insane. Half the people are using—” Teddy narrows his eyes at him and he pauses before continuing. “Using theirinfluenceto cut the line and it’s chaos.”

“How did you get our drinks, then?” I ask, grabbing mine as if it’ll disappear if I wait too long.

Doyle appears behind him, smirking as he flips a quarter over his knuckles. “Charm, love. I’m infinitely useful in a crowd.”

“Oh, yes. He’sverycharming,” Prez snorts. “He charmed theentireline, so they got out of the way. Lucy could order right away.”

Teddy pinches the bridge of his nose, taking the drink Wolfie hands him. “Fucking hell, Haggerty. Are youtrying?—”

I glare at all of them. “Why are you fighting suddenly?”

Wolfie drops onto my lap, looking delectably mussed from all the strenuous activities. “Sugarplum, you were amazing out there. I know you told us you could dance, but…”

“You can do more than just ‘dance’, Tilly,” Edgar says, egging a finger at me. “You’ve had some sort of training. That’s not the girl from the society balls in high school.”

I shrug, twisting my lips and bobbing my brows. “For me to know, boys.”

Seer pops out of the crowd, tugging Zasha and Julia along behind her. Tharin lumbers along behind him, looking comically cheerful for a guy the size of an orc. “Peanut! Why’d you leave?”

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