when he opens the rope for me to pass.
I step into the cooler air, taking a deep breath that does nothing to settle my mind.
I get to the curb, two spaces from where I parked and stop.
Leaning against my car with his head angled toward the curb and arms crossed over his chest is Ransom.
My heels click with another step forward and his head lifts, his eyes catching mine.
He pushes to his full height and I keep walking until the tips of my heels meet the toes of his sneakers.
Our eyes and bodies are aligned, and his hand lifts, pulling my hair from the high pony I put it in, in a rush.
It falls around my shoulders and his fingers bury into it.
His forehead falls to mine, and I close my eyes to get away from the strangled look in his.
He says nothing, but stands there, hanging on to me, and I don’t know why I let him. A hand meets mine, and I open my eyes to find Beretta.
He nudges my palm open, pulling my keys from my grip.
He nods, unlocks it, and Ransom leads me into the back seat as Beretta slips behind the wheel.
The top rolls back as a second engine roars and I turn my head to find Arsen has pulled up beside us.
He winks and slowly rolls forward.
Beretta pulls out behind him and off we go.
I don’t know what the hell is happening or why I go with their every move, but I do.
And I can’t bring myself to regret it.
At least... not yet.
Sequins and Satin and Diamond Studs, oh my.
Literally, the chaises are covered, the garment racks overflowing, and the seamstresses are working on overdrive to keep their smiles on their faces when, really, they’re wondering if they can get away with letting a pin slip and call it an accident.
“What about this one, can it be taken in, extended at the hem and the back twisted rather than crossed? Maybe even dyed a shade darker?” Amy holds a gown to her front, shifting from side to side.
“So basically, can the dress you’re holding be completely redesigned to create an entirely new one?” Jules snaps, swapping out the purple disaster in her hand for another.
Amy cuts a glare toward her sister, her eyes flitting past mine but coming right back when she catches me staring. She folds the gown over her arm and a woman comes up beside her, quickly taking it and smoothing it out.
“Not trying anything on today, James?”
I shake my head.
“Skipping the Fall Ball, are we? And what, might I ask will you be doing instead?” There’s a hint of accusation in her squeaky little tone, one that has me sitting up slightly.
“Oh, my god, you’re not going?!” Cali whips around with a frown.
Jules and a few others are staring now too.
Amy smirks, her chin lifting a little higher as she grabs for another dress.
“I never said I wasn’t going.”
Amy’s movements falter.
“I said I wasn’t trying anything on.”
“If you wait any longer, your dress will never be ready,” Jules stresses, hiccupping and reaching for her wine glass as if it will help.
“I already have mine settled.” As I figured it would, that gets Amy’s attention. “It’s on its way.”
It’s a lie, but I know exactly why Amy suddenly wanted to join us in Los Angeles today. She wants to see for herself what I lean toward as far as style, so she can one-up it.
It’s been a constant over the last six weeks, ever since the first day of school, when she tried to bid on my bluff and failed when I called Ransom to our table.
My mom had sent me a new prototype handbag from one of her designer friends and she insisted I use it for a set number of days to test the ‘audience,’ so Amy went out and tracked down a limited-edition Louis.
Days after I showed up with my new car, she traded hers in for a foreign one, a darker version of red than mine, one she likely had to pay a shitload to have expedited.
I didn’t care, considered it a coincidence in my head, which is ridiculous in itself, but yesterday, I had a hair appointment right after school. I added some darker streaks into my hair, which she saw at the club last night for a whole five seconds, and what do you know... someone showed up with a new do today.
She must have her people on speed dial.
Not that we all don’t.
I should