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That’ll be the inbreeding, I don’t say. “I’m sure that didn’t hamper you one bit.” Because money talks.
“But then you were at Harvard.” Her father glances my way, and I get it. I’m not good enough. Just a phase. An aberration. A fly in this fancy party’s cocktail.
Asshole.
“Well, I don’t know about you gentlemen,” Clara says, “but I need a drink.”
“You aren’t yet twenty-one.” Her father’s angry retort is the first chink in his cool armor.
“I guess I’m just ahead of the curve, Daddy.” She plucks a glass from a passing tray.
“I didn’t raise you to behave like this.”
“Oh, I’m sure we can just blame the nanny.” Her eyes are wild and bright, the set of her chin stubborn.
“Such a firecracker.” Drum gives a chuckle as her dad’s eyes shoot my way one final time.
“Enjoy the party, Trent.” The rest goes unspoken: because this is the last time I’ll be welcome in this house.
“It’s Troy,” I call after him, unbothered and mentally adding, I don’t need your approval to be inside your daughter. Fuck me, I hate these people and all they stand for.
Beside me, Clara stands motionless, her hand still in mine. I realize something in that moment. I came to this party hoping for the best but expecting much less. The outcome might be no surprise, but I didn’t think I’d find that Clara is on the outside too.
Chapter 31
Troy
Why can’t you make me hate you?
In the darkness of the car, Clara fiddles with her tiny clutch. “Do you think it helped?”
I cant my head, not quite following as a streetlamp washes her complexion a ghostly white. “Meeting everyone tonight?”
Her eyes dart the driver’s way, then back. “The narrative,” she says quietly. “Our first outing. We looked the part, but do you think people bought it?”
“Yeah, they did.” In fact, those kisses felt so real, they almost convinced me. I reach for her hand, but it’s not until I have it that I see her surprise. I guess we’re not supposed to be pretending right now. “I expect we’ll see some shit online about us soon.”
“I look forward to it,” she says, sounding exactly like she would about a dental exam.
“You’ll look great. Knockout.”
“Says the devil in a tux.” She reaches out and tweaks my tie, and for a mad moment, I see myself lunging at her.
Crazy on top of crazy, I want her in a way I can’t rationalize.
Lights glitter through the darkened window as we step into the apartment. I put my keys down on the console, Clara’s heels echoing as she walks on ahead. I watch the natural sway of her hips until she’s swallowed by the darkness. A light goes on. The clink of her purse as it meets the marble island. I slide off my jacket and pull at my tie as I belatedly follow.
“Want a water?” Clara pauses by the fridge.
I shake my head. I thirst for what I can’t have.
She pulls on the door, and the bright light makes her hair shine. Wrapping her hand around the can, she cradles it to her chest. “I’ll go wash my face,” she says. “Then you can . . .” Her gaze drops over me. “. . . do your thing.”
“I need to get something from my office.” My voice comes out gruff, maybe because that’s bullshit. I just want to watch her some.
She turns to leave, and I follow from the opposite side of the island. I don’t know whether to curse or rejoice that the other side of the apartment is off limits. We’re always going to be in each other’s space. Listening to her hum under her breath. Staring at her ass—
“Oh!” The can drops to the floor and she stops short, watching as it bounces ahead. It rolls and hits the baseboard before coming to a stop. Not that I’m watching. Or even breathing, given my hands are glued to Clara’s hips. My hard pressed to her soft—I know she can feel it—as the heavenly smell of her hair assaults me in all the best ways.
