Soon there was a shoulder in my way, then a torso, until, in their infatuation, I was physically removed from the conversation entirely. As telling as it was about my place in my own family’s home, it was an excuse to leave the swarming flies who salivated for a bite of my mother’s change purse.
I didn’t know many here, only a few familiar faces. Business partners, a banker, possibly an old neighbor. The younger women in attendance were tethered to their mothers like foals to a broodmare’s teat, waiting to be weaned off and handed to the next eligible man.
The ballroom was newly constructed, not even five years old. The wood floors had barely a scratch or a scuff, a fresh coat of white paint freshened the walls, and a new set of paintings garnished the room.
The house was always under some sort of work, additions upon additions. I supposed there wasn’t much else to do when you had an overactive wife who was instructed to stay at home with an entire reserve at her disposal. My mother didn’t spend money because she needed to. When you’d hoarded the amount of wealth my parents had, you didn’t spend out of necessity. You became something of a peacock, flaunting it for fun or assuming status. People tended to take you seriously when you could sign checks without looking at the price.
“I’m impressed you’re still sober.”
I glared over my shoulder at none other than Arkady. He was dressed decently, but clearly it was something new. I’d never imagined him in a suit this expensive, not without some paint stains or clay dust. He raised a brow as he lifted his champagne flute to his lips, then extended an extra one to me.
“Are you trying to tempt me?” I teased, plucking the glass from his hand and turning away to spectate the crowd.
“Not that it takes much convincing,” he said from beside me, joining me in my voyeurism.
“I wouldn’t mind temptation. Even from someone as stale as you.”
“It seems like I do well enough, based on your advances.”
“It means nothing.” I sipped. “I am just bored.”
He leaned down to my ear, his lips impossibly close. “Denial is an adorable color on you. Wear it more often for me, will you?”
“Insufferable.”
“Yes, you must be tortured.” He rolled his eyes. “Who are you hoping wins you tonight?”
“Excuse me?” I snapped.
“I overheard your mother talking about the auction for your attire.” He cocked his head with a smirk. “What did you think I meant?”
I smiled through a clenched jaw. “Yes, very funny for a man who can’t afford to bid.”
“Who said I can’t afford it?” He loomed closer. “Or are you assuming I don’t think you’re worth bidding on?”
I blew a frustrated breath from my nose, snapping my neck toward the crowd.
Arkady leaned down, brushing the hair away from my shoulder. “If I were you, I’d start hoping I win,” he hummed in my ear, “because if I’m going to spend that much money, I’m expecting more than just the dress.”
His words made me dizzy. I couldn’t tell if this was just another one of his teases. When I turned to look at him, he was gone, disappearing into the crowd.
“Casanova,” I mumbled into my cup, suddenly losing the need to drink any spirits when his words alone sent me into a head high.
As more people arrived, music played in tandem. Staff with trays of bites to eat fluttered around to the congregating groups like bees in a garden, prompting the guests to indulge. The tower of champagne glasses was poured, and the golden liquid glistened as it cascaded down the crystal.
No matter how many people I conversed with, I couldn’t stop thinking about Arkady. What was he doing? Was he talking politely witha stranger? Telling a group a wild story about his figure studies? Talking to a woman about one of the sculptures being auctioned tonight?
Just the thought put my stomach in an upset, my mouth a bit too dry to partake in any drinking with much joy.
I scanned the crowd, looking for the brunet. It might have been a bout of sudden loneliness, but I wanted to speak with him.
Among the chattering faces, I spotted him. He looked charming and light, unlike how he really was—indifferent to such pleasantries. If only he would put on such an act for me. Perhaps it was an honor to know what he was really like. I wished he would lie to me, pretend forme.
Maybe that was why I wanted it. Because I wanted him to know I was not as unpleasant as our interactions suggested, that Ididwant it to work.
Just as I feared, as I drew closer, I realized he was talking to another woman. She was a dazzling thing, in a dress of fine making and colors that suited her perfectly. Her smile was especially delightful, her laugh melodic. And then there was Arkady ... He was laughing with her, perfectly at ease.
It made me sick to my stomach.
