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“Then I still have a chance,” she announces with great confidence.
“No,” I deadpan, but Oaklynn is no longer listening to me.
“She’s not interested in you, Grayson. That’s her loss and my win.” She winks. “I like you. I think we’ll be good together.”
She’s walking away before I can refute her statement. Goddamn it.
Frustrated, I take a sip of wine.
Oaklynn likes me? Why does she like me? Because I’m Grayson Hale now?
Would she like me if I was still the Grayson from before? The one with holes in his shirt, instead of an Armani suit. The forgotten boy in foster care. I wonder if she’d still like me then.
I bet not.
I bet she wouldn’t even bother knowing my name if she were to pass by me on the streets. I would have been just another poor loser — the boy on the wrong side of the tracks to her.
Oaklynn doesn’t like me.
She likes Grayson Hale.
And I can say with utmost certainty.
Oaklynn is a nice girl, but we’re not compatible. I don’t think we ever will be. And I don’t want her hanging onto that hope that we might ever be something more than friends.
“With you standing here like this, you remind me so much of your uncle when we were younger.” Aunt Naveah moves to my side and the frustration clears from my expression. She places her hand on my back, between my shoulder blades. “Thank you for being here, Grayson,” she tells me and there’s more than appreciation in her voice. I hear kindness and affection too.
I give her a mute nod in response. I don’t know what to say to that. Shouldn’t I be the one thanking her? I take another sip of wine, still staring out the window.
She rubs my back. “We wouldn’t beseech you for leaving right now, if you want.”
My head snaps toward her. “You wouldn’t?” I hide my grimace when my tone comes out sounding too hopeful. But Aunt Naveah is not offended. She simply smiles.
“You can go back now, if you’d like. I’ve already told Roger to drop you home. He’s waiting for you outside, in the car.” Roger is our chauffeur.
“How…” I trail off, swallowing. “How did you know I wanted to leave?”
“We just know.”
We? My gaze flickers over to Uncle Ben. He’s talking to someone, but it’s almost as if he can feel me watching him. His attention drifts to me for a nano-second, and he gives me a brief but deliberate nod.
“So you wouldn’t mind if I just leave right now? Wouldn’t people talk?”
“No, you’ve done your part and that’s more than enough, Grayson.” She reaches up and straightens the collar of my shirt for me. “Anyway, people will always find a reason to talk. You can’t let that impair you.”
I swallow again. “Thank you.”
“Go,” she mouths, giving me the last push to do just that. “Make a run for it before someone else interrupts you.”
Fuck, I don’t wait for her to tell me again. I get the hell out of here and I don’t pause until I’m all the way outside, and the noise of the party is drowned out.
The air no longer feels stuffy.
My tie is no longer suffocating me.
I can finally breathe again.
***
