Bad, Bad Bluebloods(Rich Boys of Burberry Prep #2) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,74

maintain a fairly neutral expression. Impressive considering Harper's devolved into an ugly monster in the same span of time. Right on time, Tristan appears on Harper's left, his gray gaze focused on Lizzie. But only for a second … He then moves his attention over to me, and I'm almost startled by it.

“Oh, honey,” Harper purrs, latching onto Tristan's arm. The way his mouth wrinkles into a sneer when she touches him tells me all I need to know. He doesn't like her, never will. Not that it matters. He'll marry her anyway if it's what'll give him the most money and power. My stomach twists into an infinity-shaped knot. “The Working Girl invited your old girlfriend to ski with us. I'm not impressed.”

“What do you want me to do about it?” he snaps at her, his face impassive. “I can't exactly kick Lizzie and Charity out into the snow, now can I?” Harper gapes at him, flicking her tongue against the side of her mouth and leveling her glare on Lizzie. I may as well be invisible. After all, it's not me that her fiancé’s in love with.

Not yet, anyway.

In my heart though, I wonder if I'll ever be able to wedge Lizzie out of that special place in Tristan's chest. She could very well lose the bet for me. I exhale sharply, and Zack reaches down to take my hand, giving it a squeeze.

“You're engaged?” Lizzie whispers after a second, looking at Tristan from hurt baby doe eyes. I feel like I might cry for her. Damn it. Damn, damn, damn. Well, I'm glad I already crossed her name off the list. This is too much. “You … could've told me.”

“Publicly? At a party? Like how you told me?” Tristan snaps, his nostrils flaring. He's trying to maintain his composure and failing miserably. Harper looks gleeful right about now. I want to beat her up for them both. “Why should I? What are we to each other? Clearly, not friends.”

Lizzie's eyes blur with tears, and I grimace, squeezing Zack's hand back for comfort.

“You're right,” she whispers, “we're not friends. But that's okay: I didn't come here for you.” She reaches down to take my hand, notices Zack's curled around it, and raises her brows. I quickly shake him off and grab onto her, pulling her away from the crowd and up the stairs.

I think that's enough revenge for us both.

This time, however, it doesn't taste quite so sweet.

Lizzie falls asleep on my bed, so I take hers, and Miranda ends up staying with Jessie. I wonder if they're um, sleeping together, but I'm too nervous to ask, so I don't say anything. We spend the next morning sitting in the lodge and eating from the buffet, sipping hot cocoa, and talking about the summer.

Most all the Bluebloods have houses in the Hamptons and spend a good portion of their summer there. Lizzie and her friends cut them out of most of the important social engagements, and refused them entry into any of their parties. Even as she's describing her shadiness, she's trying to be nice about it.

“I mean, we didn't hurt anybody …” she adds, but I'm already smiling as I imagine Creed's, Zayd's, and Tristan's faces as they show up at the place of a supposed party with their entourage, and find nothing and nobody. Amazing.

Tristan comes in the door covered in snow and sweating. When he sees Lizzie and me in the lodge, he scowls, storms up the stairs, and slams his door. While Lizzie's discomfort brings me zero joy, I quite like seeing Tristan throw tantrums like a child.

It gets a little weird though on Sunday when his father shows up.

I come to find out that Mr. Vanderbilt owns the place. Fantastic.

Now, when he sees Lizzie, me, Andrew, Miranda, and Zack eating lunch in the restaurant the next day, there's this look that crosses his face that scares the crap out of me. William Vanderbilt could have me assassinated, and then cover it all up. That's how freaking rich he is. And clearly, he doesn't like me. Pretty sure he doesn't like Lizzie either, based on the way his eyes travel over our group, dismissing everyone but the two of us.

For dinner that night, outdoor heaters are set up, and food is served on the patio. Surrounded by snow and glistening with twinkling white lights, it's magical. It’s no accident that I slip into the shimmery black dress that Tristan sent me for the graduation