The Rush (The Siren Series) - By Rachel Higginson Page 0,40
Beaux-arts design house. Her mother had drastically different taste than mine. Where my mother worshipped at the altar of modern chic, Sloane’s mother was all classic French doors and imported antique tiled floors. The house was a magazine spread waiting to happen, with expertly decorated classic French furniture and a drool worthy backyard grotto complete with a cozy fire pit and sunken fifteen-person Jacuzzi. “Up here now!” She snapped her perfectly manicured fingers impatiently and I couldn’t help but smile.
“Geesh! You are so bossy!” I called back, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. I hated being here tonight. I loathed being surrounded by these people, by these women who had sold their souls to the devil without putting up any kind of fight. But I loved my girls. And it was good to see them.
“Ivy,” my mother stopped me before I could hang up my coat and disappear into Sloane’s bedroom for the rest of the night. Her voice was poised and authoritative, her glassy green eyes narrowed and expectant. “I expect you to put in some face time tonight. You heard what Nix has planned for you. He won’t want you hiding away. You need to remind him and everyone else why he would pick you. It’s not public knowledge yet, but when he makes his claim to you I don’t want there to be a shadow of a doubt for why he would pick you.”
She leaned forward to straighten the neckline of my mandarin collared sheer shirt dress. She brushed invisible lint off the shoulder and then adjusted it so that it layered over the dress-length slip underneath perfectly. I willed myself to be still underneath her ice cold fingers and intense scrutiny.
“Mom, nobody will notice,” I argued doing my best to keep the pleading tone I desperately felt out of my voice. “It’s not like Nix is going to announce his intentions tonight.”
“Don’t argue with me,” she chastised immediately. “And please, Nix’s affection for you has never been anything but common knowledge. Do you think anyone else could have pulled that little depression stunt last spring and gotten away with it?” My mother laughed derisively, completely and effectively putting me in my place. “Hardly. So don’t you dare seem ungrateful tonight. Get your act together and give Nix what he wants.”
“Yes mother,” I ground out obediently sounding like a Stepford robot. I knew there was no point arguing what might as well have been a command straight from God in this circle of delusional crazy people.
She gave me another head to toe dissecting glance, pausing a little too long on my solid black leggings like they were an eye sore. And then she turned her back on me to greet her…. colleagues. I looked around the elegant rooms of Sloane’s house, each one exquisitely designed and furnished. The house cost the same as our condo which could have reflected badly on Sloane’s mother Thalia. Our circle was entirely wrapped up in price tags and paychecks. But where Thalia had been frugal with the house she had made up for with extravagant pieces of art and design.
The first floor of Sloane’s mother’s house was filled with women just like my own, gold diggers all vying for Nix’s desired attention. Not that Nix would ever be an end all for these rich bitches, but he had his own charm and appeal that was absolutely intoxicating to these women…. to every woman. Nix floated between clusters of beautiful but conniving females, dazzling them all with his charm and wit.
I had the sudden urge to vomit all over the antique ottoman to my left, just to cause a scene. Obviously I squashed the urge, but the bitterness stayed firmly lodged in the back of my throat.
I took one more brave look around the first floor from my vantage point in the foyer, swearing to myself that I would never become these women, that I would never let myself get swept away in the shallow-possession-coveted existence that poisoned them. I lifted my chin in mild defiance and let the promise to myself weave a protective layer around my cynical, jaded soul, around my broken, malformed heart. I was better than this. I was better than this life.
Nix caught my eye from across the room, his dark eyes hypnotizing me, his allure calling to me, asking me to stand by his side. He hardly acknowledged me other than the way he kept his gaze tightly locked with mine, not even a head