Was he an asshole? Big time. But that didn’t keep me from feeling bad for him. No child should have to grow up like that. This country had so much fucking wealth that the absoluteleastwe could do was make sure no one went hungry.
I stared out the window, thinking back to the night in the restaurant. The way Theo had been such a jerk about me refusing food. And at my parents’ party, when he kept trying to slip hamburgers and potato salad and pasta onto my plate. I thought it was just a dig at how skinny I was, but what if that wasn’t it? What if me not eating made him nervous, brought up past trauma, and his response was to bully me into eating?
It made me want to learn more about him. To find out what made him tick, so I could avoid stepping on any other hidden land mines.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Don’t be. I don’t want your pity.”
I opened my mouth to tell him it wasn’t pity, but changed my mind. He wouldn’t believe me anyway, and he’d probably just see my regret as something else to exploit, knowing him.
The rest of the drive north passed in stilted silence, punctuated only by my directions. Theo kept the car to a somewhat reasonable speed, but I still flinched anytime he switched lanes too quickly or tailgated. After the night of the accident, I’d mostly avoided motor vehicles, and despite unpacking why in therapy, being in them still freaked me out. Especially when someone I didn’t trust was behind the wheel.
“Tell me more about tonight’s party,” Theo said when we were a few miles away. All I’d really told him over text was that there would be plenty of people for him to schmooze with.
“It’s at Cordelia Fentwick’s summer house,” I said.
“I thought you hated her.”
“I do.”
“What’s the party for?” he asked.
“It’s the annual death day celebration for Cordelia’s late husband.”
“That can’t be a real thing.”
“I assure you, it is. He passed twenty years ago, and every year on the anniversary of his death, she throws this huge, lavish dinner party, with the proceeds going to lung cancer research.”
“Is that what he died from?”
“No. He had a stroke on a golf course.”
The steering wheel creaked from how hard Theo was squeezing it. “Stella.”
“I’m being serious! That’s really how he died. And no, I don’t know why the money goes toward something else. Probably because she hated him.”
He shook his head. “Imagine being that petty.”
“Well, at least that pettiness results in a lot of money being put toward research for a really deadly form of cancer. And...”
He glanced my way. “And what?”
I sighed. Time to dance with the devil. “And since Cordelia is such a petty asshole, that means a lot of other ones will be in attendance, so you should have plenty of people to prey on.”
“Your parents are going.”
“Yes,” I said, my tone sharp because I didn’t like the implication. “Because they genuinely want to contribute money to the research.”
“Cordelia was attheirparty.”
“Because she’s my father’s aunt and they invited her to be polite.”
His profile contorted with a grimace. “You’re related to that old cow?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
He cut his gaze to me again. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. The two of you have an uncanny resemblance to each other.”
