Page 53 of Caught in a Bad Fauxmance
She shudders, grabbing two fresh champagne flutes from a nearby table, handing one of them to Dad. “You’ll need this.”
My phone buzzes and I nearly knock over Andy’s plate in my rush to pull it out of my pocket. But alas, it’s just a spam text about hot singles in my area. “I’m going to take a lap,” I announce to the others, nudging Maya’s foot with my own. “You coming?”
She shakes her head, keeping her attention focused on Evelyn. “I’ll meet up with you in a sec. Keep an eye out for the others.”
Like that night at the country club, I peek through crowdsand into mostly empty rooms in search of Julian. The sooner I find him and shake off this nagging feeling, the sooner we can head home.
While this is clearly a catered affair, I still make the kitchen my first stop. A handful of waiters dart carefully around one another, loading up trays of appetizers and sliced fruit to bring out to the tables in the backyard. I nearly walk right into a harried woman carrying a vat of what smells like New England clam chowder.
“Hey.”
I turn at the sound of Julian’s voice cutting through the chatter in the kitchen. He appears at the top of the stairs, dressed more casually than me. “What’re you doing here?” he asks, pulling out one of his headphones.
“You invited us?” I reply, the excitement I’d felt about finding him fizzling. “Or I guess one of your siblings did.”
Julian’s lips part, and his brow furrows as he lets out a confused “Uuuuuh…that’s weird.”
I fold my arms across my chest, unsure what to do with myself now that I know I’m not wanted. “Should I be concerned?”
Our answer comes bounding down the stairs. Stella looks like she just ran a marathon, cheeks flushed and hair up in a messy bun. It’s the least put together I’ve ever seen her, and the happiest she’s ever been to see me.
“You made it!” she exclaims, pushing past her brother to loop her arm through mine.
The shock of seeing her smile instead of scowl at me leaves me at a loss for words. Did we make a wrong turnsomewhere and wind up in a different dimension? Because this isnotthe timeline I know.
She starts tugging me toward a nearby hallway, but Julian steps in her way. “Did you invite them?”
“Duh. Aren’t you the one who’s always saying we should be nicer to him?”
The thought of Julian trying to bridge the gap between me and his siblings is sweet, but the reality is unsettling. I’d rather Stella hate my guts than whatever this is.
“And Maya too!” Stella shouts. Maya freezes in the entrance to the kitchen, halfway into a bite of a cannoli.
“Uh, hi.” She covers her mouth as she finishes chewing. “Did I miss something?”
Stella shakes her head, abandoning me to pull Maya along instead. “These things are so boring. Usually we skip them, and Dad never notices. You can hang with us, though.”
Maya and I exchange wary glances but let her lead the way. Julian follows at a distance, looking more confused than we do. Stella pulls open a door that I’d always thought led to another pantry but reveals a flight of stairs plunging into darkness. I’ve seen enough horror movies to know not to go anywhere near a dark, creepy basement.
“Nuh-uh.” Maya finagles her way out of Stella’s grip, coming to stand beside me. “That screams serial killer.”
Stella rolls her eyes, heading halfway down the stairs and pulling on a chain dangling from the ceiling. The overhead light flickers, and the most outlandish den I’ve ever seen comes to life. Maya and I hold on to each other with one hand and clutch the banister for dear life with the other. Ibite back the urge to gasp, the room somehow growing more unbelievable with every step.
Plush couches and armchairs surround the room’s centerpiece, a television so massive I can’t figure out how the wall is supporting its weight. A row of pinball machines and arcade games light up like Christmas trees. Bowls of candies litter every surface; jars of popcorn and homemade cookies rest atop the bar in the corner of the room. The bar is a gleaming beacon of liquid courage, dozens of untouched, clearly top-shelf bottles in a locked cabinet behind the counter.
“Holy shit,” Maya says under her breath.
I follow her eyes to a row of framed movie posters, all of them signed by at least one member of the cast. Holy shit indeed. The posters, like most things about the Seo-Cookes, make me feel painfully out of my element. We knew they were loaded, but I’d underestimated them by a tax bracket or two. Up until now, I’ve rolled my eyes at the overly posh nonsense they spend their unearned wealth on, but I wouldn’t mind having a basement like this.
Stella loses interest in us as soon as she sits down, pulling out her phone. The grind never stops, as influencers love to remind the plebian public.
Julian gestures for us to make ourselves comfortable. “Can I get you guys anything to eat?”
Maya shakes her head, dusting her powdered sugar–coated fingers off on the hem of her skirt. “We’re good.” She nudges her elbow into my ribs, leaning in to whisper, “Don’t trust any food you didn’t serve yourself.”
While I appreciate her concern, I’m well past worrying that Julian is poisoning my food by now. He’s had me in thepalm of his hand for over a week, and the worst thing he’s done is accidentally over-salt his pasta water.
Julian takes a seat across from the two of us, glaring daggers at his sister. She’s tapping at top speed like she has something to prove.
