“Is it really that sort of party?” Kit asked.
The harassed man didn’t say anything, too busy holding the door open for us.
If I’d thoughtKit’shouse was impressive, it had nothing on this place.
The whole place was filled with light and warmth andstuff, brimming with Christmas cheer where Kit’s mom had taken what I now realized was more of a minimalist approach.
Literalboughs of hollyby the dozen hung on the staircase railings, and the entryway was so big that it still didn’t look crowded. The tree in the middle of the room—perched on a huge round rug that I instantly knew was worth a fortune—dwarfed the one back at Kit’s place, overladen with decorations.
I still had the goddamn bell from Kit’s tree in my pocket.
It was probably my bell now.
“Hey, umm. Is she okay?” I asked Tuxedo Man.
He blinked at me.
“The girl in the kitchens,” I clarified.
More blinking.
“Fine, sir,” he said after a moment, cautiously. “Nothing to worry about.”
“We’ll see ourselves in, Barrett,” Kit interrupted. “No need to interrupt everyone.”
Tuxedo Man—Barrett, apparently—hesitated, looking between Kit and the door off to the side of the room, which was muffling music and laughter.
Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. People seemed to be having fun.
Kit straightened himself up a little, the way he did right before he went to order a cup of coffee from an intimidatingly attractive barista.
Barrett folded instantly.
“Of course, sir,” he said, backing away with a deferential little bow. “If I don’t speak to you again, have a lovely night.”
“I will, if you don’t speak to me again,” Kit muttered under his breath once Barrett was out of earshot.
“Oh, Kitty’s got claws,” I said.
He opened his mouth to respond just as the door to the laughter and music burst open and two women practically fell out, teetering in glittery heels and poured into satin cocktail dresses, one of them in a tasteful midnight blue with silver jewelry that made her deep blue eyes sparkle, the other…
Well. Money couldn’t buy taste, as evidenced by the hideous red-and-green color scheme, the ruffles, and more sideboob than I’d expected to see in what was, again, aliteral castle.
Obviously, she could dress however she wanted. If the cocktail gown equivalent of an ugly Christmas sweater was what she was into, I wasn’t about to judge.
It was just that I couldn’t look directly at the dress for long, because the contrasting colors were physically hurting my eyes.
“Kit!” Red-and-green enthused, throwing her arms up in the air.
“Pippa,” Kit said, exactly the way he might have saidthere’s a wasp in my coffee. “Flick,” he added, nodding to Midnight Blue.
Pippa looked him up and down assessingly, lower lip drawn between her teeth. “You’ve been in America too long, Kit,” she said after a moment, focusing on Kit’s tattered red canvas sneakers.
We were underdressed.
Wayunderdressed.
The hems of my jeans were frayed, and not in a cool way. I’d worn this sweater because Kit gave it to me, but it had a hole in the cuff I hadn’t gotten around to fixing yet.
