Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

Elaine

Monday found me sitting with Harriet, Grace, and Vivian in the Regent Country Club. The girls were chatting and laughing, sipping away on coffees like a group of regular BFFs. We were four blondes, all made up to the nines, amongst a whole load of golfers and suited gentlemen and their high-styled wives around the edges. The other girls were glowing fresh from a morning gym session, but I was barely steady on my feet, still muggy-headed from my weekend on the rocks.

My thighs were itching under my dress, fresh with cuts from the night before, deep enough to remind me of my failings.

The others went through their usual crappy small talk. How was your weekend? Did you see Amy-Ann’s dress on Saturday night? Hemmings Vintage, right?

I sipped my black coffee, hoping that the gathering would disband as soon as possible. I barely said a word, just smiled my fake smile as everyone spoke, playing at being vaguely interested.

But I couldn’t be vaguely interested.

Not with Lucian Morelli racing through my mind.

I should’ve known it was inevitable that the questioning would turn in my direction. Manners cost nothing, so our au pairs and housekeepers had instilled from a young age.

It was Grace who spoke. My cousin was a picture as she grinned across the table at me, eyes fluttering under fake lashes.

“Hey, Lainey. How was your weekend, then? How come you bailed on the Longley fundraiser? Someone said you were busy…”

The other two were staring along with her. Harriet—my closest cousin of them all—was trying to look optimistic, like she didn’t know the answer would be something unacceptable to Constantine standards.

My sister, Vivian, wasn’t even trying to look optimistic. Her smile was paper-thin, knowing full well that I was likely coked up and barely conscious the whole while since she’d seen me last.

I nearly let loose an unhinged laugh—dark humor as I imagined what expressions they’d be pulling if they knew the truth of it. They’d be retching all over the table.

I was downtown with Tristan, watching some rocker guy he wanted a piece of dick from. I got tipsy with no security in sight…and then I was hoping to get fucked by Lucian Morelli. As it turns out, he didn’t, just wound me up with his hands and mouth.

I shrugged. “Yeah, it was good, thanks. Just took some time out.”

Three blank expressions looked across at me, paper smiles not even cutting it.

I summoned up a smile of my own and poked the conversation back to some regular numb chatter.

“Tell me about Amy-Ann’s Hemmings Vintage gown, then.”

Grace leaped up and into it, sliding her hands down her ribs as she bleated on about teal satin and diamonds. Same old crap.

I knew Harriet’s eyes were on me as I played with my coffee mug. I could feel them.

I loved Harriet Roosevelt. Not just because she’d been my closest cousin for forever, but because she was a really sweet soul and I wished I could learn something from her. She was on the straight and narrow with everything she ever did, and it wasn’t because the Constantines were dictators who demanded we all did what we were told—it was because that’s who she was as a person.

She didn’t fill her calendar with hundreds of different charity events because it looked good in the tabloids. She did it because she wanted to be there with her heart of gold.

Maybe we had more in common than I’d ever let myself believe, but my heart wasn’t gold like hers. Mine was tattered, dead.

Secrets. More secrets.

I’d have paired her up as besties with downtown Jemma if I thought they’d be able to spend any time together under the Constantine umbrella, but my mother would have blown a fuse to even catch sight of Jemma on Bishop’s Landing turf with her moral crusading and dreadlocks in her hair.

When lunch was over, we did air kisses, same as usual. I didn’t even bother downing the rest of my coffee before I gathered my coat up, ready to go.

I was at the front doorway when Harriet grabbed my arm. I leaped out of my skin, eyes opening wide on hers on instinct as she pulled her usual confused face, trying to make sense of just what the hell was going on with me.

“Come for a walk around the grounds?” she asked, and the flare up in my stomach was a fresh quest for cocaine, but I managed to contain myself enough to resist snorting a line at the Regent Country Club on a Monday lunchtime.

“Sure, yeah.”

She linked her arm through mine as we walked, waving the others away with the chauffeurs. I didn’t know where to begin with speaking, so I didn’t bother, just stared numbly ahead with the paces.

“Seriously, Lainey,” she whispered. “What’s happening with you? Please tell me.”

“The usual,” I said back. “I don’t know why you bother asking.”

I wasn’t expecting her to grab my shoulders and twist me toward her. I wasn’t expecting the sheer hurt and fear in her eyes as they met with mine. “Don’t do this,” she said. “Don’t shut me out like this. When have you ever shut me out like this?”

Plenty of times, but I couldn’t say that. I could never say that to anyone.

In her mind we were kids kicking our legs out under the tree house in the grounds of her mansion, talking about life and boys. Until we weren’t. Until we were talking about Constantine customs and business and trying to make our way in this crazy world.

I used to hold her tight when she got scared, even though I was festering with fear myself under the surface. I’d pick her up when she fell down and promise her it would always be fine.

I’d loved her, and she’d loved me. Until she didn’t know me anymore, not enough to love me for real. As me. As the real Elaine Constantine beneath the makeup.

Harriet would get married. One day, she would get married. Maybe it would be to someone nice, someone she was compatible with, but regardless, a girl like Harriet could be a happy one, whoever she was hooked up with. She would always see the best in everyone, even in some rich asshole my family forced her to be with.

I wished I could be living in that bubble-gum sweet cloud she was living in.

She was still gripping my shoulders. “Were you out with Tristan? Didn’t you say he had some guy he was interested in?”

It was a decent enough confession to keep her occupied, so I used it. “He is all caught up in this guy. A rocker. Blue Hawk.”

She tipped her head. “Don’t think I’ve heard of him.”

“You wouldn’t have,” I told her. “He’s small time. It was in the Meatpacking District.”

Her mouth dropped open, just a little. “You went to the Meatpacking District? With Tristan?”

“No big deal.”

She let out a sigh. “Without security? Your mom would go wild.”

“I was with Tristan.”

“Yeah, but Tristan isn’t going to be much use to your safety from people who really mean you harm, is he? Especially not while he’s chasing after some rocker dick.”

I shrugged, even in her grip. “Yeah, well I made it through alive, didn’t I?”

It seemed my confession wasn’t quite enough. Her eyes stayed fixed on mine. “Have you been hurting yourself again?”

I pulled away from her. “What the hell does that matter?”

She followed me as I walked away. “It always matters to me how you’re treating yourself. If you won’t let yourself love yourself, then how are you ever supposed to be happy?”

“I should get therapy, right?”

She was more forceful than usual as she squeezed my arm again. “You should do something, Elaine. Talk to someone. Why won’t you please just let it be me? Please?”

Her eyes were pleading. Genuine. At odds with the fake surroundings.

“Please, Lainey,” she went on. “Please, will you just let it be me? I would never tell anyone…”

I believed her. So far in my life she hadn’t betrayed me to anyone. If only I’d have spilled my truths to her in the early days, maybe she’d have given me the strength to act on them. Maybe she’d have held me just as tightly as I’d held her. No point reflecting on that now.

I looked at her again. I looked at the way she was looking at me and knew I should do it. I knew I should speak to her, at least about some of it.

“You swear on it, Harriet. For real? Keep your damn mouth shut, no matter what?”

Little miss lovely showed her face again. She held her hand to her heart, like some Girl Guide promise. “I swear on it. Harriet Roosevelt’s honor.”

Seriously, I loved how she was still such an innocent little doll, even behind her super styled beauty highlights.

I waited until we were out of sight of the Regents Country Club building before I even dared to sit myself down on the grass. A double confession would be dangerous. Spilling my Lucian Morelli truths to Harriet as well as Tristan would only make them more real. My heart was thumping as I cleared my throat to talk, and it wasn’t just from the disgust at my own confession.

It was from the disgust at just how much I wanted it to happen all over again.

I wanted Lucian Morelli.

I wanted his touch, and his hurt, and his hate.

It was weird. Hardly believable, because I wanted something I hadn’t wanted since I was a little girl wishing on a fairy tale life ahead, with a noble prince on a noble steed charging into my world to claim me.

This wasn’t a noble prince on a noble steed, he was an evil beast, charging into my world to destroy me, but that didn’t seem to matter. Not to me.

I couldn’t want it. But I did. I wanted it with every little tingle in my veins.

I wanted Lucian Morelli to fall in love with me.