Fiona gives me a tart little smack on the butt then, breaking my reverie and laughing as she hurries over to the jewelry box waiting on my vanity. I give her a weird look and cover my ass with my hands. “What is with people today,” I murmur.
She laughs again as she comes over to me, standing behind me so that she can hook the diamond solitaire around my neck on its slim silver chain.
“You got the ring?” she asks, smacking her gum.
“Oh, yeah,” I murmur, walking swiftly over to my bedside drawer and pulling it open. I reach towards the back, fishing it out and pushing it swiftly onto my left hand.
When I look at Fiona, she’s crossing her arms and shaking her head at me.
“A million-dollar diamond,” she says, “and you shove it in your bedside drawer?”
“Um,” I say, biting my lip in response. I hadn’t even thought about it. I look around, wondering where else I should have put it –
“Nevermind,” she says, laughing at me more.
“Fiona,” I say, taking in her vintage Juicy velour sweatsuit. “Won’t you please come? I’ll feel so much better with you there.”
“Ah, baby Fay,” she says, coming to take my arm and give me a smile. “You’ll be fine. I’ve got a headache, is all – I’ll be more comfortable here.”
I frown at her, knowing that something’s up. But, she knows more about this world than I do. If she doesn’t want to go, I’m not going to push her.
“Okay,” I say, sighing as I headed for the door.
“Wait wait!” she calls, unzipping a garment bag and revealing a gorgeous mink stole.
“Oh my god,” I say, walking back towards it. “It’s beautiful –“
“Yeah,” she says, admiring it. “Vintage. You lucky girl.”
Smiling she goes to wrap it around my shoulders.
“Wait,” I say, not wanting to touch it. “Is it…like real? Were those alive?”
“What are you,” she scolds, “some kind of tree hugger?”
“It’s wrong,” I protest, staring at it. “I feel so bad, thinking about those little animals –“
“Baby,” she says, taking my face in her hands. “It’s vintage. These minks died over sixty years ago. No new minks died so you could look fabulous.”
I hesitate, my eyes taking it in. It is so beautiful.
“Come on,” she says, wrapping it around me before I can say anything, tucking my hands into the little pockets at the bottom which help me keep it around my shoulders. “It would be an insult to these little minks, to leave them in the closet for another sixty years. Take them out! Let the world admire them!”
Laughing, I head out of the room and down the stairs, brushing my face against the wrap, enjoying the feel of the soft fur against my cheek.
I stop though, halfway down, when I see Kent at the bottom standing with his arms crossed, his feet apart. Staring at me.
Shy, suddenly, I hunch my shoulders up towards my ears, clutching the mink close against my chest, pressing my thighs and knees together. I’m abruptly very aware of the shortness of my skirt. I don’t break eye contact though. Instead, I bite my bottom lip hoping – ridiculously – that I look okay.
I swear I hear him growl as his brow lowers, his eyes locked on mine.
“Fay!” Daniel calls, joining his father at the bottom of the stairs. “Wow, you look stunning.” He gives me a big smile and I start to move again, focusing on him as I come to his side.
“Thanks,” I say, giving him a little punch on his shoulder. “You look pretty cute yourself.”
He gives me a charming, bashful smile, and I’m reminded again just how good-looking my fiancé is. Both of our faces turn to Kent, though, as he snorts at us, shaking his head.
“Come on,” he says, nodding towards the door. “The cars are waiting.”
With that, we head out of the house. On our way to meet my entire family.
I whistle a little as we walk into the ballroom at the country club, impressed. This place has a grand, old-fashioned kind of charm, with freshly buffed fine oak floors, brass chandeliers, and sweeping views of the golf greens all along the southern wall.
As soon as we enter, a waiter comes up to offer us champagne. Kent doesn’t make eye contact with him, merely saying “whiskey, neat,” and surveying the guests. However, Daniel is more polite, nodding and smiling as he takes two glasses from the tray, passing one to me.
We only get a few steps into the room before we are bombarded with attention.
“Is this her?” A plump woman says, hurrying over and reaching out a hand to take mine. “Is this our darling lost Fay?”
“Um,” I say, smiling at her, pleased at the warm reception but already a little overwhelmed. “Hello –“
“Yes,” Kent says, stepping forward, not letting the woman pull me away. “This is Fay. We’re so pleased to be here, Rosemary.”
The woman pauses, giving him a warm smile. “Well of course, we’re always glad to see you, Kent,” she says, her eyes darting between us.
“Rosemary is your aunt,” Kent tells me, accepting the glass of whiskey that the waiter is quick to bring back. He takes a sip, looking to me, apparently allowing me to continue the conversation.
I open my mouth, wondering what to say, but Rosemary picks it up for me. “We remember you from when you were a baby, of course,” she says, gushing, waving several people over from a nearby table.
I blink in surprise – but of course, they would have known me. Of course I had biological aunts, and uncles, and cousins – people who loved me as a child. I just had really never thought of it before.
It seems like I meet hundreds of people that night – the large Italian family I never knew that I had. Everyone wants to say hello, pressing my hand, telling memories they had of me, welcoming me.
People from Daniel’s side are here too – fewer, of course, but several cousins with the same dark hair and green eyes. I’m pleased to meet them all, but I admit that I’m surprised that Kent stays at my side the entire time – sometimes interceding with the answer to a question before I can provide it, sometimes guiding me towards or away from a certain person with a little tap from his hand on my lower back.
He doesn’t interfere, quite – but he is a constant presence during the evening.
As we work our way across the floor, I see that we’re heading – ever so subtly – towards my father and his wife at the front of the room. The children are there – Romulus stands on a chair to wave at me before his mother tugs him down.
“Um,” I say, hesitating a little. “I think I’d like to…visit the bathroom,” I say, “before I take that on.”
“Of course,” Kent says, turning with me, putting a hand on my back to show me the way.
“Dad,” Daniel says, his face frustrated as he steps in front of us. “I’ll take her,” he says, shaking his head. “You’ve been kind of hovering all night –“
“Nonsense,” Kent says, frowning at him and nudging me forward. As a trio, we head towards the alcove with the little restroom sign. Daniel pushes the point further.
“Seriously, dad,” he murmurs, “you can go, I’ll stay by her side – I can handle this -“
“No, you can’t Daniel,” his father snaps, taking an aggressive step towards him, cutting me off in my path. “You have no idea what the politics are in this room – who it might be dangerous for her to talk to – who is out for blood, who could be a possible friend.”
Daniel’s face twists, angry. “And whose fault is that, dad?” he asks, his voice hurt and stubborn. “You never involve me in these conversations, you never –“
“It’s your fault, Daniel,” Kent snarls, Daniel falling silent. “It’s your fault. Before tonight you’ve never been interested in the family business – always more interested in college, and books, and whatever the hell it is you do all day. And tonight, because she’s here –“he throws out a hand towards me, “what, suddenly you know what you’re doing in this world? Suddenly you’re a boss, a Don, in the business?”
Daniel frowns at his father, crossing his arms across his chest, clearly hurt. “I can handle myself,” he says, still angry but a little cowed. He knows, deep down, that his father has a point.
Kent opens his mouth to speak again but I push past him, eager to get away. “Um, I’m going to go to the bathroom,” I say, looking over my shoulder at them. “While you two…sort this out.” They ignore me, turning to continue the argument even in my absence.
When I come out of the bathroom a few minutes later, Kent is still standing there, but Daniel is not.
“Where did he go?” I ask, looking around for him.
“He went to cool off,” Kent murmurs, his arms crossed. I can tell he’s still pissed, but he’s putting on a controlled front for everyone in the room.
Just then, a waiter at the front of the room rings a gong. I jump and blink a little at the noise, surprised. What the hell does that mean?
Apparently, everyone else knows, because they start to filter away towards tables. The waiter scurries over to us, bowing a little. “If you would please, sir, miss,” he says, gesturing towards the head table. “Just this way.”
Kent nods and we follow him to a long rectangular table with just three seats left. I watch as the waiter pulls out the furthest chair, gesturing towards it with a smile and looking directly at me.
I glance back at Kent, who gives me a smirk. I narrow my eyes at him a little, knowing that he’s not going to be of any help.
With that, I sigh, thanking the waiter and sinking into the chair seated directly next to Tristin, my new wicked stepmother.