Twisted Palace (23 page)

Dad gets a frustrated look on his face while I glance at Ella in confusion.
New boyfriend?
What in the world is she telling Steve?

Ella drags me upstairs, explaining as we go. “Steve thinks Wade is my new boyfriend because he took me out on the fake date. And I guess now that we’re going to the dance together, we’re an official couple.”

“You’re not a couple,” I remind her.

“Duh.”

Once we’re alone, I waste no time ridding her of her sweatshirt and kissing her, reminding her with my mouth exactly who she’s going out with.

“We didn’t leave the door open,” she murmurs.

“I know,” I say into her breasts. “Want me to stop?”

“Hell, no.”

We get about five minutes of fooling around before Easton bursts in.

“I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” he asks, completely unrepentant. “I heard I’m watching television with you.”

Ella throws a pillow at his face, but moves over to make room for him. I flick the TV remote. As the screen flickers on, my girl tucks herself under my arm.

I don’t have much time before I go to prison. Spending even one night with Jordan isn’t how I want to use that precious time, but I’ll just have to suck it up. For Ella’s sake.

Because my goal for the weeks we have left is to make Ella Harper happy every second of every day.

O
n Friday night
, Steve drives me over to the Royals’, grumbling the entire time. “In my day, the boy drove to the girl’s house. He didn’t drive to his best friend’s house to pick up the girl.”

“It was easier than Wade driving all the way to the city to get me,” I answer with a shrug. That, and I really wanted to get a sneak peek of Reed in his tux. But I keep that to myself.

As we roll through the Royal gates, I can’t help but think about what my life is like now versus when I first arrived. A few months ago, I was stripping at a seedy club called Daddy G’s. Today, I’m sitting in some ridiculously expensive car, wearing a dress that Val told me must have cost more than one year of tuition at Astor Park and shoes that have brand name crystals glued all over them. Val pronounced the name of the crystal maker three times and I still can’t get the hang of it. I look like a real-life Cinderella complete with the ball gown and glass slippers. I’m not sure if the fairy godmother in this situation is Callum or Steve, though.

Steve maneuvers the sports car around the fountain in the courtyard. I throw open the door as soon as we pull up to the front steps, but the car is so darn low that it’s hard for me to get out, what with the hundred layers of chiffon.

Steve chuckles. “Hold on. I’ll come pull you out.”

He lifts me up and sets me on my four-inch stilettos.

“What do you think?” I ask, holding out my arms.

“You look beautiful.”

I find myself blushing at the compliment. It’s so surreal to think that this is actually my father staring at me with this awed kind of pride.

He takes my arm and helps me up the wide steps. The moment we walk inside, I see Reed descending the staircase. He looks so good in his black tuxedo that I have to stop myself from drooling.

“Hey, Reed. You look nice,” I say blandly, because Steve is standing right beside me.

“You look nice, too,” he answers in an equally indifferent voice. But his heated gaze says otherwise.

“I’ll be in Callum’s study,” Steve tells us. “Ella, come get me when your date arrives.”

He disappears down the hall, which surprises me since I know he doesn’t like it when I’m alone with Reed. And he has a reason not to like it. The moment he’s gone, Reed bends down and presses his mouth on my neck. He lays a searing kiss at my pulse point that has my knees buckling.

Then he backs me up against the wall and continues his exploration of all the skin conveniently exposed by the strapless sweetheart neckline. My hands fall onto the crisp cotton of his dress shirt. The idea of stripping him out of his clothes grows more appealing by the second. Unfortunately, the sound of an engine roaring outside pops that balloon.

At the honk of the horn, Reed lifts his head from my upper chest reluctantly. “Your date’s here.”

“No kiss on the lips?” I smile, trying to catch my breath.

His thumb presses at the corner of my mouth. “Didn’t want to mess up your lipstick.”

“Mess away,” I invite.

His lips curve up. “There’s so much more of your body I’d like to have my mouth on right now.” His hand falls to the top of my breast, still damp from his kisses. I gasp as one long finger slides under the tightly corseted bodice to swipe across my nipple.

“Hey man, are you mauling my date?” Wade demands as he bursts through the front doors without knocking.

Reed sighs, removes his hand and rocks back on his heels. “I’m expressing my appreciation for my girlfriend’s rocking bod.”

I take a deep, calming breath before turning to face Wade. Thankfully, the bodice of my dress is thick enough that my excited state doesn’t show through the silk. “If you’re my date, you better have brought me an awesome floral arrangement. Someone told me you can tell the size of a guy’s dick based on the amount of flowers he buys.”

Wade stops short, his eyes falling to the long white box in his hands. “Really? They say that?”

Reed and Wade exchange alarmed glances, and I nearly die laughing at them.

“You’re an evil woman.” Wade marches past me without even handing me the box.

We all turn at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Easton and the twins appear, each clad in his own tux.

Sawyer nods when he sees me and Wade. “Finally. Let’s get this show on the road. We need to pick up Lauren.”

Everyone marches out the door, with Easton and me taking up the rear. Smiling, he reaches out and flicks my skirt. “I thought you’d go for something slinky and sexy.”

“I’ve worn slutty clothes for a long time. I’ve never done princess.” I shake out the dress, which I fell in love with the moment I removed it from the box. The bare shoulders give me all the sexy I need, but even if it were high-necked and long-sleeved, I’d still be obsessed with the full skirt and the thousands of layers of chiffon that swish around my legs as I walk.

Easton grins. “You’re always doing the opposite of what anyone expects. The girls will be killing themselves.”

“I’m just doing what I want. They should, too.” I didn’t choose the dress because I wanted to tweak anyone’s noses at Astor. I picked this one because it looked like a dream—and if this is the only Winter Formal I’ll ever be attending with Reed, even though he isn’t technically my date, I wanted to wear the most beautiful gown on the earth.

“Doesn’t matter. If you wore a tight dress, they’d call you a slut, and now they’re going to call you something else, but I’m going to take care of you while Reed’s away.”

Easton’s declaration makes me feel warm inside. Not because I need watching over, but because I sense he’s growing up a little. In a burst of insight, I realize that Easton needs someone to watch over and take care of. I’m not going to be that person, but until he finds her, we can watch out for each other.

“And I’ll take care of you, too,” I promise.

“Deal.”

We shake on it.

Steve and Callum wander outside just as we reach the courtyard. “You kids taking off now?” Callum calls.

“Yup,” Easton answers.

Wade stops by Steve’s Bugatti. He smooths a hand above the hood, not daring to lay his palm on the steel. “I think you should let me drive this, Mr. O’Halloran. For your daughter’s sake.”

“I think you should stop breathing on my two-million-dollar vehicle, Mr. Carlisle, and take my daughter to the dance.”

Holy mother of Mary. I gape at my father. “Two million?” I echo.

All of the men look at me like I’m ridiculous for asking, but they’re the ridiculous ones. Two million bucks for a car? These people have way too much money.

“It was worth a shot.” Grinning, Wade jogs to his own sports car and holds open the door for me. “Your chariot awaits.”

“Hey listen,” Wade says fifteen minutes later, as we idle behind a long line of cars waiting to turn into the country club. “I want you to know that you can come to me if you have any problems.”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“Next semester,” he clarifies. “After, ah, Reed’s gone.”

“What problems do you anticipate me having? Like if I forget a tampon, will you have extras in your locker?”

His head jerks around. “Reed keeps tampons in his locker for you?”

“No, you dumbass, but that’s about how stupid your statement is. I can take care of myself.” His words remind me eerily of Easton’s, though, and a note of suspicion strikes me. “Did Reed put you up to this?”

Wade looks out the window. “Did Reed put me up to what?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

His shoulders sag. “Okay, maybe.”

“Is he going to dictate instructions from his prison cell like some mafia don?”

Reed’s over-protectiveness will probably only get worse when he can’t see me every day. I guess it should make me feel suffocated, and for some girls, maybe it would—but for me, it’s comforting. I’m not going to let him control my life, but I don’t mind the gesture.

“I dunno. Maybe?” Wade seems unbothered by this. He shifts and slides a sly glance in my direction. “So…conjugal visits?”

I roll my eyes. “What is it with you guys and conjugal visits?”

“Dunno,” he says again. “Seems kinky.” His eyes become unfocused as he engages in some fantasy regarding jail cells and sex games.

And because I don’t want to sit next to Wade while he’s playing some porno in his head, I ask, “Speaking of kinky, what’s up with you and Val?”

His lips tighten into a rigid line.

“Cat got your tongue?” I taunt, but his mouth stays glued shut.

He’ll talk about anything but Val, huh? Very, very interesting.

“Fine, don’t talk, but just know that Val’s an awesome girl. Don’t play with her.” It’s not an overt threat, but Wade should know me by now. I’ll hurt him if he hurts her.

“Is that what you think?” he bursts out. “That
I’m
the problem? Women,” he mutters and then adds something under his breath that I can’t make out.

I raise my eyebrows, but he turns up the music, and I drop the subject because his outburst is answer enough.

By the time we make the turn into the Bayview Country Club property, Wade’s natural good humor has resurfaced. He loses his stiffness, and his characteristic easy smile is back on his face. “Sorry I snapped at you. Val and I are…complicated.”

“I’m sorry I pried. I just love Val and want her to be happy.”

“How about me?” he says in mock offense. “Do you want me to be happy?”

“Of course.” I reach out and squeeze his hand. “I want everyone to be happy.”

“Even Jordan?”

“Especially her,” I tell him as he pulls up in front of the club’s entrance. “If she’s happy, I think she’d be less of a terror.”

He snorts in disagreement. “Doubtful. She feeds off the fear and unhappiness of others.”

The valet opens my door before I can respond, but Wade’s assessment is depressingly correct. Jordan does seem to be happiest when everyone around her is miserable.

“Be careful. It’s my baby,” Wade tells the valet as he tosses his keys over. Then he pats the hood and winks at me. “Cars are less complicated than women.”

“Can’t have a conjugal visit with a car,” I remind him.

He snickers. “Good point.”

I haven’t been to the country club before, so I don’t know what it looks like when it’s not decked out in the Astor Prep blue and gold, but it’s pretty tonight. Wide swaths of white fabric hang from the center and outward, making the room look like a huge, luxurious tent. Along the white fabric hang tiny Christmas lights. Decorating the room are round tables covered with pristine white tablecloths and chairs wearing giant, shiny blue-and-gold ribbons. But despite the long line of cars outside, the room is surprisingly empty.

“Where is everyone?” I ask my date.

“You’ll see,” Wade says cryptically, leading me to a table at the entry.

Behind the table, a man and a woman dressed in black suits rise as we approach. “Welcome to the Astor Park Prep Winter Formal,” chirps the lady. “Name, please?”

“Wade Carlisle and Ella—” He stops and looks at me questioningly. “Royal? Harper? O’Halloran?”

“I have an Ella Harper.” The woman holds out a silk bag and a mini bottle of sparkling cider with my name on it.

“What’s this?” I ask slowly.

Wade grabs everything and moves me away from the table so the couple behind us can get their goodies. He tucks the bottles in one pocket and the silk bags in the other. “You’re given five hundred dollars’ worth of chips to play in here.”

“Here” ends up being a room filled with felt-covered gaming tables and so many people that I feel a bit suffocated. The girls are beautifully dressed, most of them wearing slinky gowns with slits up the side. The guys are wearing black tuxes. It looks like a movie set.

“I wish Val was here,” I whisper.

I think Wade says, “Me, too,” but I’m not completely sure.

“So I use the chips to play these games?” I wave a hand toward the casino tables, trying to take both our minds off our missing friend.

“Yep, and then you bid on stuff.”

We wander in. There are two tables—one where kids are playing poker and another where they’re playing blackjack. “What kind of stuff?”

“Trips, jewelry, experiences.”

“Who pays for it?”

“It’s all donated. But your chips are paid for by a parent or guardian, I guess.”

“Is this why there’s no dancing?” Deeper in the room, I see a table full of purses, envelopes, and baskets. It looks like a raffle table at a bingo hall, only much nicer.

“There’s dancing in the dinner area.”

I vaguely recall a small open square in the middle of the tables. “But that space is so small.”

“No one dances.”

Well, duh. Who wants to dance when you could gamble? “When did this start?”

“Maybe ten years ago?” Wade slaps the hands of one of the football players as we pass by. “None of the guys danced, and a huge number of them just stopped coming altogether, so some smarty set this casino thing up. Boom, boys were back in town.”

We stop in front of a table. The items range from purses to jewelry to placards with the words
Aspen
and
Las Vegas
and
Puerto Vallarta
written on them. Those must be the experiences Wade referenced. “None of these is five hundred,” I tell him, pointing to the bolded numbers on the bottom of each explanation sheet.

“Right, well, you’re supposed to win the chips and then your date’s supposed to give you his.”

“That’s not sexist,” I mutter under my breath.

Wade snorts. “Astor Prep’s not real enlightened. You’re just figuring that out?”

I wonder if this is why Val didn’t come. On top of the dress, there’s the added cost of buying five hundred dollars’ worth of chips to buy what I presume to be worthless stuff. “Sucks if you’re a scholarship student.”

Wade frowns. “You don’t have to play.”

I turn to inspect the room. “I don’t see Liam Hunter here, either. Isn’t he a scholarship student like Val?”

“Huh.” Wade’s eyes widen as the realization sinks in of who exactly attends these charity dances.

The whole setup reeks of rich kids keeping the poor kids out, and some of the magical gauze that covers the place is torn away.