Just enjoy yourself, I thought as I climbed the front steps.Hang out by the buffet table, chat up some of these rich weirdos, and collect some juicy details to share with Isaac and Esmer later. That’s all you have to do. And if you meet anyone interesting…just take it one step at a time.When I put it that way to myself, this evening sounded much more manageable.
At the top of the steps, I was greeted by a man in a burgundy velvet jacket and a simple black mask that covered his face from nose to brow. Worried that I needed to prove I belonged here, I pulled my invitation out of my purse and showed it to him.
He glanced at it, and then his eyes snapped back up to my face. They lingered on me for a touch too long—as if heknewI didn’t really belong here—before he turned and gestured toward a woman I hadn’t noticed standing just behind him. She was wearing a burgundy velvet dress and another one of those unadorned black masks, and she apparently didn’t need more than a single flick of his wrist to know what he wanted. She darted off, and then the man looked back at me and, without even a word, indicated that I should enter the party.
I guess that means I’m in.
Relief flooded through me as I stepped past him. There was a little part of me that had been convinced until this very moment that I’d be turned away at the door, but despite my fears—and the doorman’s suspicions, it seemed—that invitation wasn’t a mistake.
There was no turning back now.
And so, with nothing left to stop me, I shoved any lingering trepidation down deep, where it was easier to ignore, and I stepped into the unknown.
3
A Dance with a Stranger
IfI’dthoughttheCrestwoods’ home looked like a museum from the outside, the interior did little to change my mind. The house was airy and open—giving a whole new meaning to “open concept“—and the high-ceilinged foyer gave way quickly to an enormous, expansive room that appeared to take up most of the ground floor.
The room was at least two stories tall, and two and a half walls were covered in floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the bay below. The other walls were stark white and covered with paintings from a variety of eras and art movements. Three massive chandeliers—as modern as the exterior of the house, all angles and metal—hung suspended over the guests below.
The party itself was all romantic opulence. The room was a sea of ball gowns and bedazzled masks, colorful tuxes and elaborate hats. Everywhere I looked I saw lace and pearls and feathers and ribbons, like a fete from Versailles had been transported through time and space.
A small string ensemble was set up in front of one of the huge windows, and couples swirled around in front of them, dancing to a strange waltz. Other guests sampled delicacies from the lavish buffet set up along the opposite side of the room, or they mingled in small groups, crystal goblets in hand, chatting and laughing together.
Everyone looked like they knew what to do here. Like they belonged at this odd, enchanting party.
A woman in a burgundy dress with another one of those plain black masks stepped in front of me, a tray of crystal goblets balanced on one hand.
“Would you like a drink?” she said, her voice like a song.
“Yes, please.” I passed my purse into my other hand and took one of the goblets. The liquid inside appeared faintly gold and fizzy, like dark champagne.
“Would you like me to take your bag, miss?” the woman asked.
“Oh, no. I’ll hold onto it. Thank you.” It was probably silly to insist on carrying my purse around all night, but I’d promised Isaac I’d keep my phone—and the pepper spray—within reach. And frankly, I preferred to have it close in the unlikely circumstance that Isaac’s theories turned out to hold any water. Thankfully, the delicate, chain-like strap on my bag was long enough to slip over my head and wear across my body, so at least it would be mostly out of my way.
I wonder if they make ball gowns with pockets, I mused as I skirted the edge of the room toward the buffet table, planning to start there while I got my bearings.Or would that be too convenient?
I paused to let a flock of women in jewel-toned gowns flitter past, trailing ribbons and lace. A couple of them had feathered fans that they batted in front of their faces as if protecting whispered secrets from those around them.
“Welcome to Crestwood House.”
The deep voice came from just behind me, and I jumped, nearly spilling my drink before even getting a taste. When I spun around, I found a man dressed in a deep blue suit with elaborate gold embroidery along the hems. A pair of azure-blue eyes stared down at me from behind a detailed golden mask in the shape of a lion’s face.
“Thank you,” I said, suddenly feeling like I should curtsy or something. Instead, I hid my awkwardness by finally taking a sip of my drink. It was clearly alcoholic, but like nothing I’d ever tasted before—mildly sweet and floral, with a hint of cinnamon at the end.I’ll need to be careful with this.Already my head was light and buzzing with that relentlessshiveryfeeling, and finding myself facing this tall, striking man wasn’t helping matters.
“Are you enjoying the party so far?” he asked, his voice like the rumble of a river tumbling down a mountainside. He was so tall, and so broad—but in a way that made it obvious that most of the bulk beneath his fine suit was solid muscle.
“I am,” I answered. “I mean, I just got here, so I can’t fully judge the experience yet, but everything between the front door and this side of the room has been great. And if that buffet tastes even half as good as it smells, that’ll bump everything up a few more points.” I was starting to ramble, the way I did whenever I found myself talking to a man who was way too attractive for me. I could only see this guy’s eyes and his lips behind his elaborate mask, but that was enough to give me a picture and get me all weird and fluttery. I was as bad as the characters in my fanfic.
The stranger, on the other hand, clearly wasn’t suffering from the same affliction. He projected an easy confidence as he extended his hand to me.
“May I have this dance?”
Just like my fantasy.I had no idea how to waltz, but I refused to be the sort of girl who came to a party like this and refused to enjoy herself. I wanted to have a few stories to tell Esmer and Isaac when this night was over.
So despite the fact that I knew I was likely to embarrass myself, I reached out, accepting the stranger’s hand.
