Page 56 of Gilt

“So, then this is Monroe’s idea of grieving?” Mackey guesses.

For no explicable reason, I find myself growing defensive. “She’s had a bit of a rough week.”

“Emma.” Mackey leans forward and lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Don’t try to excuse their behavior. Stay above it.”

Is that what she thinks of me, that I’m above all of this? Jameson must have been right when he said she didn’t suspect me, but the fact does nothing to soothe me. The only way I can stay above this is with Jameson by my side doing the same, but he’s not here.

“Excuse us,” she waves to the officer waiting behind her. “We need to find your boyfriend.”

I guess news travels fast. Then again, with any luck, the beginnings of our first sex tape have already made it onto TikTok. I slam my fist against the wall, remembering too late that it’s marble. Clutching it, I groan. Then I hurry after her. Whatever Jameson has to face tonight, he won’t do it alone. I catch up with her just as she finds him arguing with Monroe.

“Excuse me, Mr. West. Perhaps we can speak somewhere privately,” Detective Mackey interrupts. Both Wests fall silent immediately and stare at her.

Jameson’s eyes dart to mine over her shoulder. “Take care of her?” he asks me, glancing toward Monroe.

“You did not just ask her to do that!” Monroe stomps into the other room, either oblivious to the fact that her brother is probably going to be arrested or indifferent to it. Despite his request, I follow behind them as he leads them into a hall away from the crowd.

“Jameson West, I’m here to arrest you for assault.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?” he asks in confusion. “That’s a majorly reduced charge.”

“We received a report of the assault,” she continues ignoring his interjection, “this evening.”

“Wait,” he stops her, “who’s claiming I assaulted them?”

“Jake Southerly.”

I gasp and heads swivel in my direction, but Jameson’s eyes warn me to stay silent.

“Did you miss me that much, Detective? We both know these charges won’t stick.”

“Be that as it may, we have a nice jail cell waiting for you.” She turns to the officer behind her and nods. He walks forward, cuffs in hand, and begins to read Jameson his Miranda rights.

“Please find Monroe,” Jameson calls, ignoring him completely. “Check on her. Then take her phone and call my mom.”

I want to defend him and tell Detective Mackey that Jameson was protecting me, but from the look in his eyes, I know he doesn’t want me to do that. It takes everything I can muster to keep my mouth shut.

“Some date,” he says to me as they haul him toward the elevator.

“Maybe next time we could just grab some dinner,” I suggest. Before they can stop me, I run over and kiss him full on the lips. The officer leading him out breaks us apart.

“That’s quite enough!” Detective Mackey warns us. She studies me curiously as we all wait for the elevator to arrive. When it does, she lets the officer take Jameson inside.

“Just a moment,” she tells him. Then she turns to me. “What does he have on you?”

“Nothing.” I hate her for even suggesting that I can be bought.

“I thought you were a smarter girl than that.” She leaves the proclamation hanging in the air before she disappears into the elevator.

The doors shut, and I stand there listening to the throb of music coming from the other room.

“You couldn’t have broken up the party while you were at it,” I say to the elevator doors. Then I steel myself and head back inside.

Monroe is nowhere to be found. I navigate through the crowd, careful to avoid Hugo. Coming around the corner to the kitchen where I cooked for Jameson, I halt as two voices rise angrily. Tiptoeing to the wall, I get as close as possible, trying to listen in without being seen.

“You have no idea what you saw!”

I peek around the corner and find Monroe and Leighton in a face-off. Given Leighton’s knock-off of the Wicked Bitch’s wardrobe, right down to the mournful black from head to toe. Is imitation still the sincerest form of flattery?