what I was thinking, and my jaw tensed to realize how obvious my feelings were. But she was right. I had a job to do if we wanted to remain in the good graces of the Rose family.
I’d almost finished walking the room when Lisbeth called me over, her fingers clutching the stem of a half empty flute of champagne, waving it at me as if I’d forgotten her.
Around her, admirers laughed at her unabashed disdain for the help. My palm ached to slap her down, to show her I wasn’t a lap dog who would lie on his back and take the abuse.
“I’d like a fresh glass, please.”
She practically shoved the flute at my chest, her head turning to her friends.
“It’s so hard to find decent help.”
It took everything I had not to toss the remaining champagne in her beautiful face.
Behind me, Lisbeth’s father could be heard laughing at some joke the room wasn’t privy to. He had a beast of a laugh, fully bellied and as loud as they came. I turned to see what could be so funny but froze in place, the room finally coming into focus around me.
There I stood in a servant’s uniform, my white shirt pristine and crisp, my black slacks ironed with a crease down the center of each leg. My vest was a deep burgundy in front and a silky black in back, a small catch that ran across that could be used to cinch the cloth in place.
They were the finest clothes I’d ever worn, yet not as fine as everyone around me. I was suddenly struck by the disparity between the attendees of Lisbeth’s ball and myself, suddenly hyper aware that no matter what I did in life, I would never be up to par.
A woman walked by, her stride graceful as the skirt of her gown fluttered at her legs, diamonds embedded in the ankle straps of her shoes. She didn’t notice me, her attention stolen by the man at her side, his tuxedo as perfect as his hair, their wealth rolling off them in waves of power that would never be mine.
I wasn’t sure why that moment hit me the way it did, but I could feel the green tint of jealousy rise inside me, my eyes darting from one person to the next with the dawning realization that I would never be good enough for them.
Lisbeth was moving on. A girl I’d chased since we were kids. Not because we were friends, but because she’d demanded it of me, and now...
Now I was left standing in place.
I was surrounded by extravagance and luxury, by beautiful women and powerful men.
Yet, even when surrounded, I would never be the same. I would always be a servant. I’d always be ashamed.
There was an incongruency within myself because I knew somehow that this wasn’t the life I should have lived. I was small on the outside but larger than life inside my skin.
I was better than them.
They just didn’t know it.
Anger coursed through my veins just as fingers snapped at my back, a chorus of laughter rising up to draw my attention around.
There was one other rule with Lisbeth I hated: never make eye contact unless she was the one to initiate it.
An entire life spent always glancing at her cheek or a shoulder or her shoes.
But when I spun to face her this time, I narrowed my eyes on hers, her laughter fading off when our stares locked, and her smile fell.
She actually flinched before regaining herself enough to scowl.
“Shouldn’t you be leaving now? You’re a servant here. The help. Nobody invited you to attend the party.”
A grin stretched my lips, something taking over me that I’d allowed this bitch of a girl to beat down every single day.
But I’d noticed her falter for just one second, at least. I noticed the moment she’d hesitated.
I was just as powerful as her, if not more so.
Lifting her glass of champagne to my mouth, I kept my stare locked to hers while I drank the sparkling liquid down. Her lips parted for just a second before she stepped back to turn away.
As her entourage stormed off behind her, I knew what just a small amount of power would feel like.
I wanted more of it.
In that moment, I’d changed.
. . .
A palm slapped my cheek. Once. Twice. The third more urgent as my name was called.
“Callan. Get up.”
I moved my head, and a hammer pounded inside my skull. Mouth dry, I forced