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“Don’t be silly.” That voice comes from behind me, so I spin back around to find Vanessa beaming at me as she comes down the stairs. “She’s with me,” she tells Dawn, flashing her a smile before grabbing my arm.
“Oh. Okay,” I say, smiling faintly. “Where are we going?”
She stops back in the foyer and looks up the winding, elegant staircase. I follow her gaze and my tummy does a tumble when I see Sloane Whitley descending, her well-manicured hand resting lightly on the railing as she walks. Her heels click against the hardwood, and her legs look even longer than usual somehow. Maybe it’s the cut of her tight white mini dress, but man, is she pretty.
Sloane is the Zeta president, and while of course she was here during rush, I did not warrant so much as an introduction. I didn’t feel bad. Most girls didn’t.
Her lips are painted the perfect shade of pinky mauve, and her teeth are straight and white when she flashes me a smile. “Hi, Brynn.”
I’m embarrassed to have a fleeting moment of she knows my name? but it’s like high school all over again, only a girl cooler than any of the ones who ever went to my school is the queen bee and she’s acknowledging me.
“Hi,” I say a bit shyly.
“Thanks for stopping by to help out.”
She casually flips her long blond hair, and it’s like a waterfall of silk. I have to really work at not coming off like a creep, but it’s hard not to stare at her.
I feel a little like I felt when Killian took his mask off for the first time.
People don’t need to be this attractive. It’s borderline inconsiderate to the mere mortals—like me—who are going to make fools of themselves about it.
Sloane is used to being gawked at, though, so if she notices my momentary lapse of composure, she doesn’t mention it. Her gaze briefly rakes over me, though, and I instantly wonder why I didn’t dress cuter to come here. I knew what the vibe at this house was like, and I did not do my part to fit in.
“Sorry,” I say, glancing down. “I look like a total bum.”
I mean, I don’t. I look like a normal student in jeans and a soft pink sweater, but I definitely missed the unspoken message that I should be picture-ready while we worked.
And really, I should have known that. I like the Zetas, but they’re very brand-aware and they post pictures and video compilations of every benefit they put on.
“No, you look great. I love your sweater,” she assures me. “I’ll change into something comfy later, too, but right now, we need to get pictures of everybody for the auction. I’m overnight printing the booklet for this weekend’s event, and I have to make sure the final files are uploaded tonight. We are kind of doing a theme for all the pictures, though. Vanessa should have told you that,” she adds, glancing at Vanessa.
Vanessa swallows. “Sorry.”
“So it’s not your fault that you’re not dressed appropriately,” Sloane concludes with a pleasant smile. “Do you want to borrow something from one of the girls? You can get ready upstairs on the residential floors. We even have showers if you want to take one. Once your hair and makeup’s done and you’re wearing a dress that fits the color scheme, we’ll get a shot of you on the picture wall,” she says, indicating a wall where a girl is presently posing in a cute aqua dress for a photograph. “We’ll also need to get the details for your description. They won’t go in the booklet, that will just be a composite of photos of all the girls participating, but we’ll need that for tomorrow.”
“Wait. Um… I’m sorry, I’m a little confused. I’m not a Zeta, why would I be in the program?”
Sloane glances at Vanessa. “She’s here to be in the auction, correct?”
“Yeah. I mean, that’s what she told me,” Vanessa says, cutting me an uncertain glance.
“The booklet layout is already set for the number of girls you told me we have. The evening has been cut up in timed sections for the number of girls you told me we have.”
Feeling bad for Vanessa’s growing discomfort—fear?—I cut back in. “I’m not saying no, I just… I just thought I was here for free manual labor. I thought Vanessa wanted me to help with setup, but if I misunderstood, it’s not a big deal. I still want to help.”
“Good,” Sloane says brightly, bringing her sharp blue-eyed gaze back to me. “I’m glad to hear it. We love a team player at Zeta.”
“Great. So, wait, why do we need pictures in the… pamphlet? I still didn’t get an answer to that one.”
“Like I said, I’m making a composite of all the girls in the date auction for the date auction page. That way attendees can look it over before the event starts—we’re having a little mocktail reception for when people first come in—and also know the name of the date they’d like to bid on so they recognize it when she’s announced. We have a lot of blondes,” she says lightly, “and not all of the bidders will be discerning, so without the page in the booklet, they may not be able to tell who’s who.”
“Date auction. I wasn’t told anything about a date auction.”
“Oh, we just call it that. It’s not that serious,” Sloane assures me, waving it off. “You wear a cute dress and parade in front of the crowd, and people bid on a ‘date’ with you, but most people don’t even hang out with the winning bidder.”
“But some people do, and they have a good time,” Vanessa says, looking almost disappointed.
Sloane rolls her eyes. “He’s not gonna bid on you, honey.”
