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“Who?” Mr. Franken asks. “I know just about everyone here. I’m sure I could drop some juicy things if needed.”

“Gary. I swear, you hoard information like the finest jewels,” Mr. Trollope snorts. He glances at me and winks. “He also rarely gives it up this easily. I suggest you accept it.”

I don’t hesitate, because I know that information is power. I’m not sure why Gary is being so amenable, but I’ll bite.

“The blonde behind you,” I murmur, leaning in. “Blue dress, curvy, watching people as if she might eat them.”

Gary shifts, nodding when he sees Kelsie.

“That’s Kelsie Keaton. She’s a real man eater, that one. Married to Reginald Keaton, a trust fund baby. I’d make introductions, but talking to her gives me indigestion.”

I hold back a snort, because my stepsister has that kind of energy. Kelsie got married, interesting.

“She married him just out of college, it sounds like they met at a party while he was there. He’s a couple years older than her,” Gary shrugs. “It’s just as well, because I heard her stepfather is being investigated for fraud and embezzlement. She got out just in time.”

I’m so glad I kept my mouth shut. One thing I’ve learned early is never offer more information than you need to. I never would have said I knew Kelsie if I hadn’t been caught being distracted.

“Hmm. We haven’t spoken in a million years,” I admit, shrugging.

Greg changes the subject, and I eventually find a way to escape. My footsteps are seeking other pieces of my soul, but unfortunately, Kelsie finds me instead. Her hand slides around my bicep before her nails dig in as she smiles, but I’m done playing her petty games.

“Kelsie, are you sure you want to say hello like this?” I ask. “Ci and Draven are around, and you know how jealous they can be.”

“Is that still a thing?” she asks, her heels clicking along the glossy floor as we walk. She’s leading me out of the room, and she’s going to find this isn’t going to end in a fuck against the wall.

“‘Fraid so,” I hum. “Didn’t you hear? Your cunt made me gay, sweetheart. I hope you have better luck next time.”

“I’m married,” she snarls, her lips barely moving as she inclines her head toward a man with dirty blonde hair who looks like he regularly makes bad decisions. “Reggie, darling, are we ready to go soon? I just need to wrap up a conversation with an old friend.”

More like old fuck buddy. I give him a two fingered salute with a rueful smile.

“Of course, darling. Is your head starting to hurt?” he asks with wide eyes.

It takes everything not to laugh, because it doesn’t appear that Kelsie is fucking her husband.

“A bit, but not much,” she reassures him.

“Alright, then. Leave in fifteen?” he suggests hopefully.

“That’s perfect. You’re an angel,” she reassures him.

I finally find Draven and Ci at the bar having a drink and I raise my eyebrows while making a kissy face at them. It’s my S.O.S. Dear God, please face, and Ci straightens as he watches as Kelsie and I leave the room.

“I thought you’d leave with your husband, take the out if you don’t enjoy these events,” I taunt her.

“Why are you being mean to me?” she asks, her bottom lip trembling the further we get from the chatter behind us. “We had so many good times together. I just want one more. Why can’t we just find a spot so you can remind me why you’ve always been my favorite person?”

“I’m responding to the nail marks I’ll inevitably have to explain to my boyfriends after this,” I say quietly, pointing out the way she’s holding onto my arm. “You break the things you want, Kelsie.”

“We had that in common,” she sniffles. “Ripping the wings off butterflies while they screamed was fun!”

“Was it? There are things we do to survive, and then there are those we do because we enjoy them,” I reply.

Ugh, do they really scream when you rip off their wings? Please be a metaphor…

“You’re not any better than me,” she says, shaking her head. Not a drop falls from her eyes, and I rip my arm away from her now that we’re free of an audience.

“I haven’t said anything to prove or disprove those words. I simply don’t want to continue this conversation. There’s a reason neither of us have reached out to the other.”