3. The Maze

Chapter three

The Maze

M y brother and friends aren’t there when I step off the plane. The weather is beautiful - warm, but with a fresh, ocean breeze. The sun is low, but it’s not quite sunset. My phone says it’s 5pm.

We’re at a private landing strip, a short drive from the main house. If you can call it a house - it’s more like a hotel, with rolling grounds I can’t see the end of.

The grounds throw up more questions. My brother would have had to come into a lot of money for this to happen.

Kent and I are ushered into the back of a spacious limousine together. The flight attendant tells me the staff from the plane will meet me at the house later.

I’m so nervous at being crushed into the car with Kent I stare out the window. He takes his guitar out and strums it, crooning one of my favorite songs softly. The sound gets under my skin, causing me tingles.

I swallow, and my gaze drifts over to him. He’s staring right at me, singing “She was everything I’d ever dreamed…” I hold my breath, and he smiles. “You must be something special to be the honored guest,” he says.

“I have excellent friends,” I say, a little stiffly. At this point I have no idea who’s throwing this party.

“Nice to be loved,” he says, and the Southern drawl in his accent sounds strong. He looks at me with a touch of melancholy in his gaze, and I find myself unable to look away.

Maybe all my luck in love has been biding its time until this moment. To hook up with Kent freaking Edwards.

The car rolls to a stop before I can take that thought further.

“Looks like we’re here,” Kent says, and the door opens. We’re not at the house yet. I’m helped out of the car, and need a hand from the chauffeur in my tight dress while Kent puts his guitar away behind me. We’re at the entrance to a hedge maze.

It rises to about eight feet, a wall of green with an entrance and a sign. About twenty other partygoers mingle around in masks, waiting to go in.

I don’t recognise anyone, which causes my stomach to do little flip-flops.

A man in a butler’s uniform stands stiffly before the entrance to the maze, and there are servers walking around giving out champagne glasses. The distant sounds of a string quartet come from inside the maze.

The chauffeur is young and speaks in clipped and professional British tones. “The car will go on and take your things to the main house. The party is in the maze. Please make your way through to the center,” he says. I’m counting the staff now. There are so many of them - this is insanely expensive.

I decide to leave my overnight bag in the car, but I grab my phone. There’s no reception, but I hold on to my phone, anyway.

The grass under my feet is soft. The guests all look amazing, and some of them are wearing scandalously little. They smile at me, and I smile back, despite my stomach jumping with nerves. There isn’t a high heel in sight. My new look fits right in. Kent ties on a simple black mask as I look around.

Some partygoers have simple masks like mine and Kent’s. Some of them have more elaborate masks, with large structures. There’s a man with a fake bull’s head, no shirt, and plain linen pants tied at the waist. A minotaur, for a maze.

Huh. Clever. He definitely has the body for the shirtless look. He stands a head above all the other men, and his broad chest is enormous.

I stare at his muscles a moment too long, and he turns his strange fake head towards me. The eyes blink, and my mouth goes dry. Wow. It’s a good fake mask.

There’s tension in the air - a bubbling excitement. I thought it was just me, but there are more than a few giggles from the surrounding guests. And my friends are nowhere to be seen.

Oh god. What if this isn’t a prank?

I take a glass of champagne from a passing server and sip it, but it makes me feel queasy. Some men openly eye me, and I resist the urge to cover my cleavage. My mind scrambles, remembering the contract. One man, that’s all I agreed to. One man, one night. Not an orgy in a hedge maze.

“You may enter now,” the butler in front of the maze says, and steps aside. “The main festivities are in the center. Please enjoy your evening.”

Kent takes my arm and we filter into the maze along with the others. “Looks like there’s a theme. Is your costume supposed to be a character?” Kent asks.

“A virgin sacrifice?” I say with a nervous laugh.

A woman in a scanty genie costume laughs loudly from the other side of me. I turn my head and realize she’s looking at me. “The guest of honor! God, that I would be so lucky,” she says. She nudges me and cants her head at the man with the bull’s head, walking ahead into the maze. “One night is all I’d need, right? But do you know who the sacrifice is, really?”

“No I…” I try to explain, anxiety blooming in a sharp pang in my chest. Oh god what if this isn’t a prank.

Her eyes widen in realization. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I thought you’d be younger!”

It’s hard to take offence when my mind is still whirling.

“Well, you’ll have to let me know if he’s that big everywhere,” she says, and winks at me before running off down the right-hand fork in the maze.

Kent still has a hand on my arm, and he raises an eyebrow at me. “My lady?” he drawls. But the woman’s words are still with me, and my eyes are glued on the retreating minotaur walking into the maze ahead.

“I have to… I’ll see you later,” I say, and run after the minotaur. “Hey, wait up!”