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“What does that mean?”
She sneered. “Maybe that’s something you should ask him. If it were me, I’d stay far away from someone like him.”
Someone like him? What was she talking about? Her words bothered me more than I liked. Maybe it was because she claimed to know something about Hawk that I didn’t.
“You’re just saying that because you’re jealous,” I said, calling the kettle black.
She laughed. “I’m here withDerek.”
Oh, come on. “You’ve been bugged since you overheard Hawk ask me out.”
Pris jutted out her hip, adding extra sass to her stance. “I don’t care who asks you out. At least Derek didn’t sign some binding contract back in college to keep him from falling in love with me.”
“What are you talking about?”
She folded her arms and scoffed, angling her body in full-snark mode. “This is why I hate you.”
“What?”
In our many—many—misunderstandings, Pris had neversaid the actual words. I’d known she disliked me, but hatred was an open slit straight into my chest.
I tried to force the sting away, but she went on.
“I can never tell you anything.”
“Hate me all you want, I guess,” I finally said. I was done talking to her ten minutes ago.
Ten years ago, more like it.
My head was spinning too much by all her vague suggestions. Hawk had signed something in college to keep from falling in love with anyone?
Finally, he came back into view. He was no longer talking to the redhead, but wove his way through the dancers, making his way back.
I attempted to worm past Pris, to rejoin Hawk’s side before he approached and saw our confrontation, but Pris pinched my arm again, gripping, keeping me in place.
She tipped in and hissed low.
“I hate you, but I’m helping you out here. Trust me when I say you can’t have anything more than a dance with your billionaire. He made sure of that a long time ago. In fact, you should do yourself a favor. Leave now before you get too attached. You’re only going to get hurt.”
Was she threatening me?
“You’ve never done anything to help me before,” I said. “Let me go.”
“Suit yourself.”
I attempted to back away, but I didn’t move soon enough. In a moment of fury, she reachedbehind me, retrieved a goblet on the table, and pitched its cranberry-colored contents at my face and chest.
The iced liquid made a frigid splash against me. I held my arms aloft, mortified at the red juice dripping from my hair, my lashes, my nose and lips, and down my neck. An ice cube coasted down the front of my dress, and a huge red stain spoiled the fabric of the bodice.
Hawk’s gift—his romantic gesture to save me stress and treat me like a princess. It was ruined in one swift motion.
Pris wouldn’t have cared even if she’d known.
“You’ll thank me later,” Pris sneered and pointed to the exit. “Guess you’d better go home now and get ready for Mom’s job at the Heights where you belong.”
Humiliation pulsed in my skull. I managed to blink away the liquid enough to peer at the surrounding guests. Some were dancing, but a few gaped at Pris and me as if wondering whether or not they should intervene.
Pris folded her arms and stood back with complete satisfaction. “The clock is ticking, Ella. You wouldn’t want to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
