Page 425 of Hell Hath No Fury
“My sister, too?”
He turns around in his chair, his eyes scanning the dance floor.
“Huh.”
“Huh? What does that mean? Huh?” I ask impatiently.
He points to where Richard is, currently dancing with his grandmother, trying and failing miserably at pretending he’s having a good time.
“She was just dancing with Rick a minute ago.”
I chew on my bottom lip as I scan the large room and come up empty-handed. Sierra is nowhere in sight, but that’s not what has me anxious. It’s the fact that Montgomery Ryland has suddenly vanished from the hall that really raises my hackles. I pull a passing busboy by his arm and stop him before he gets too far.
“I’m looking for Montgomery. Can you tell me where he is?” I ask, feeling Owen now standing behind me.
“Why?” the busboy asks suspiciously, probably thinking I’m going to make a complaint.
“He goes to school with me, and I just wanted to ask him about some reading material we had to do over the summer.”
Hesitantly, his gaze bounces off me and Owen, not really sure if he should give me his colleague’s whereabouts or not.
“Let me handle this,” Owen interjects, going to his pocket and handing the waiter a crisp hundred-dollar bill. “Now that that’s settled, how about you tell us where your boy is?”
“Out back at the golf court on his cigarette break,” he explains, grabbing the bill and stuffing it in his pocket.
I don’t wait for further information, turning my back on both of them and rushing to the door.
“Hey, wait up,” I hear Owen shout behind me, but I’m too consumed with my mission to slow down my pace, especially for him.
Owen catches up with me just as I leave the country club in the direction of the golf course.
“Jesus, would you wait? What’s the big deal? So the guy is on his cigarette break? Big whoop. Why do you need him anyway?”
I halt to a stop, turn to him, and stab his chest with my index finger.
“When have you ever seen Montgomery smoke in school? I’ll tell you. Never.”
Owen’s forehead crinkles as he tries to recall a time where he saw our classmate with a cigarette in his hand. When he can’t remember one, he comes up with another alternative.
“So maybe he came out here to grab some fresh air? It’s pretty stuffy inside with all those suits and stuck-up socialites.”
I shake my head, before turning on my heel, and rushing toward the green.
“He’s not out here to catch some air, dimwit! He’s here with Sierra.”
“There’s no need for name-calling,” he grumbles, speed walking alongside me.
“Say something intelligent and I won’t have to.”
“God. I forgot what a—”
“What?” I stop again to face him. “What a bitch I am? Because I don’t want my sixteen-year-old sister out here in the dark with a grown-ass man?! Is that it? Is that what you were about to call me?”
His expression turns thunderous, as if I’m the one who just offended him.
“No. I was going to say that I forgot what a temper you have, if you had just let me finish.”
“Sure, you were,” I scoff.
