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Hunter’s smile vanished. “Where did you get that?” he asked, nodding toward my chest.
“The necklace?” I asked as I pulled the dark wayward strands of hair out of the tiny silver loops.
“Yes.” His eyes narrowed slightly as he watched me.
“It was a birthday gift from my mom,” I said, tucking it back under my top.
“Your mom got you an L pendant?” he said, crossing his arms. “I thought you said your name was Delaney.”
“It is, but everyone calls me Laney for short,” I said, wondering why he was suddenly acting so weirdly. It was just a necklace.
“What year were you born in?” he asked, apropos of nothing.
“2001,” I said, furrowing my brows. “You?”
He was silent for a moment. Then he rubbed his neck and took a step back. “One of my friends just got here. I have to talk to him,” he said stiffly. “I’ll see you around, Laney.”
“But didn’t you want to hang out lat—”
Before I could even get my sentence all the way out, Hunter was gone, striding over to the other side of the ballroom without a single glance back at me.
“Okay, then,” I muttered to myself, wondering how and why things had taken such a strange turn. Hunter was openly flirting with me, and then everything had soured over… nothing, really. It seemed as if he didn’t like my necklace, but that wasn’t a reason to suddenly dislike a person.
Maybe he was one of those guys who hated anything even remotely vulgar and unrefined. Name and letter necklaces were a little outdated and gaudy, I suppose, compared to fine jewelry, and when he approached me earlier, one of the very first things he said was ‘I hate to sound like a walking cliché’, so he obviously didn’t like clichés and tackiness.
If my supposedly-bad taste in jewelry was all it took for him to lose interest in me, then I never even stood a chance. Oh well. I guess I shouldn’t have expected much more than snobbery and derision from a Royal Falls guy.
Before I could ponder the matter any further, Charles Connery strode up to me and cleared his throat. “Delaney, isn’t it? Ava’s daughter?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yes, sir.”
He patted my shoulder. “You’ve grown up. I think you were only thirteen or fourteen the last time I saw you,” he said, tilting his head slightly to the side. “Your hair is different now, isn’t it?”
“It’s a bit longer, yes,” I replied, pasting on a smile. I knew he was probably just being polite. We’d met a few times over the years, because of my mom’s work here, but I didn’t expect a man like him to actually remember what I looked like.
“Anyway,” he went on. “Do you think you’d be willing to do me a favor?”
“Of course, Mr. Connery.”
“You’ve met Jean, I presume?”
I nodded. Jean was one of the other maids working here tonight.
“Well, it seems she ate something on her break that she mistakenly thought was gluten-free. She has celiac disease, so she’s just dashed off to the bathroom, and I can only assume she’ll be in there for quite some time.”
“Oh, no. Do you want me to go and take care of her?” I asked, brows shooting up with concern. A girl at Silvercreek High had celiac, and she once vomited blood in our dingy cafeteria after a guy forcibly kissed her as part of a twisted ‘joke’. He’d eaten a sandwich for lunch, and just a few tiny crumbs from his lips was enough to make the girl horribly ill.
Charles waved a hand. “No, no, she’s a big girl. She can take care of herself. I was actually wondering if I could trust you to take over her position tonight.”
My forehead creased. “Her position? Isn’t she just serving drinks and food like me?”
“In a manner of speaking. She’s been serving the upstairs guests.”
My frown deepened. “Upstairs guests?”
I’d noticed Jean walking up and down the stairs a few times, but it had never occurred to me that she was serving guests on the upper levels. I’d simply observed her movements and never given them a second thought. She was just like me—the deferential help, making her way around the party like a polite little elf, only noticed if she screwed up.
Charles moved a little closer and lowered his voice. “Some of the guests at my parties prefer something a little quieter. More intimate. They take the rooms in the south wing of the house, on both the second and third levels. Occasionally, they want things like champagne and food brought to them, and that’s where Jean usually comes in.”
