because Tristan’s a worthy opponent.
I take a break from dancing to stand beside him, hooking my arm around his the way I did in Paris, closing my eyes as I breathe in his peppermint and cinnamon scent. Clean and spicy at the same time.
“I wish I could bottle your smell,” I tell him, and that, at least, gets the tiniest quirk of lips.
“Mm. What would call it? Eau de Asshole?”
“I was thinking Silken Prick Face. And the whole commercial would be about this naked guy wrapped in sulk, running through waves on a moonlit eve, while some weird voiceover whispers Silken Prick over and over again.” This time, I get a full laugh out of Tristan, and I think it startles us both just a bit.
We’re quiet for a while, watching the crowd thin out as people—mostly couples—start disappearing up to their rooms, or down to the beach for the bonfire or the boats.
“Why did you sabotage my test?” I ask, because that question’s been bugging me since last year. “I know now that you were trying to get me to drop out of Burberry, but … that’s not like you. Even when you hated me, you knew I was a qualified opponent.”
Tristan is silent for a while before he sighs and looks down at me.
“Sometimes we do things that we think are best, even if we know they’re wrong. Harper had even worse things planned for your grades. All I did was redirect her. And then I told Zayd. Marnye, I’ve never wanted to beat anyone at anything so badly as I wanted to win against you in grades.” I raise my eyebrows, but he’s not done, setting his waiter glass on a side table, and turning to look at me. “There have only ever been two settings in my life: completely hopeless failure under my father’s expectations, and ridiculous ease with the rest of the world. You challenge me, Marnye. You make me want to be better.”
My eyes widen, but we’re interrupted by Lizzie, pulling us both onto the dance floor for one last song before we hit the road again, off to Vanderbilt Manor, and a peek into Tristan’s private life that I never thought I’d live to see.
“Holy shit, it’s Mount Olympus,” I breathe as I stand in front of the Vanderbilt Manor, all forty-thousand square feet of it. According to Tristan, there are two art galleries, a ballroom, a winter garden, a library, a billiard room, a gun room, and … there are so many freaking rooms, I literally don’t remember them all.
“Might as well be,” Zack snorts, “because the people who live here think they’re gods.”
“Oh, like you’re any different, Brooks,” Tristan says, sweeping past and heading up the steps of the white stone manor. The staff greets him warmly which I find surprising. I figured Tristan was the type to treat those around him like ‘the help’. But he actually gives an older, silver-haired man a hug. A hug. How many times have I seen Tristan Vanderbilt hug anyone?
We head into the main hall, and I’m immediately overwhelmed by the amount of space and the lavishness of the décor. There’s a stack of papers on a table with a fresh floral bouquet that’s as big as my car. Tristan grabs it and starts passing out maps.
Literal maps. Of his house.
Maybe, if you need to give people a map of your home, it’s a little too big to begin with?
“Your rooms are labelled,” he explains, moving over to one of the walls to point out an intercom. “If you get lost, or need help finding something, just press the button on any of these and one of the staff can help you out.” He pauses for a minute as we all study the maps, taking note of our names scrawled onto the page. While it looks like there are plenty of guest rooms, he’s placed us all on the upper level, in the east wing, near his personal bedroom.
Lizzie bites her lip, and I look up, meeting her amber eyes.
It hasn’t escaped either of our notice that she’s sharing a room with Andrew, while I’ve got my own suite … right next to Tristan’s.
“Come on, Charity,” Tristan says cheekily, “I’ll show you to your room.” He takes my arm and guides me to the right, through the east foyer and the banquet hall before we finally get to the stairs. The others follow along behind as we sweep up the curving staircase, and Tristan