We didn’t know each other before this, but a friendly face in this melee is more than I ever expected and she doesn’t have Maxim.
Our hands stay knotted throughout the rest of the meal and the comfort it provides is incalculable.
I’m an ally,we silently tell each other.
And in this dogfight, where being a woman is a handicap, that matters.
Some of the legacies get drunk on the expensive wine, and though the brothers remain hooded, I can sense their disapproval.
Wynter and I barely eat. Maxim enjoys a chowder of some sort and roasted chicken with orzo and asparagus. The scent alone makes me want to heave.
Maxim goes so far as to talk to the man next to him in a language I don’t recognize, which has me filing away the information for another time.
Hours later, one of the brothers stands. “Fini.”
And that’s it. It’s over.
Chairs scrape against the tiled floor. Though some of them had to be mid-conversation prior to that declaration, chatter falls to nothing.
In silence, we traipse out.
It’s a weird end to a weird night.
The crowd heads in one direction and we’re swept up with them in atidal wave of cloaks. It’s claustrophobic. Until I spot a lone woman amid the masses and I realize she is our guide out of this place—thank God.
“To shield the brothers’ anonymity,” Maxim murmurs in my ear.
It makes sense. It’s not like they’re going to leave in their hooded cloaksorremove them in front of us.
I slip out of the cloak and pass it to another woman, who keeps her eyes locked on the floor.
“Whenever you are called to the lodge, you are to retrieve this cloak,” she informs me in a whisper before allowing me to grab my personal items.
Once we’re standing outside, I can take my first full breath since this damn thing started. There’s a chill in the air, but it feels good against my overheated skin.
“Do you need help getting home, Wynter?”
“Oh, no, sir. I’ll be fine?—”
“No, you won’t,” I insert, relieved Maxim made the suggestion. If my head was screwed on properly, I would have too. “Is someone coming to pick you up?”
“I was going to get a rideshare.”
Handing my purse to me, Maxim clucks his tongue. “Not tonight.”
With a click of his fingers, his town car appears. He waves at the driver and opens the door for us both. I climb in behind her and he seats himself beside me. After knocking on the roof of the car once Wynter’s given him her address, we slide into the late-night traffic.
“That was mental,” I exclaim.
“You’re catching Britishisms from O’Donnelly,” Maxim remarks.
“O’Donnelly. I know him. Seamus, right? We have constitutional law together.”
“He’s my housemate.” When Wynter glances at Maxim, I hide a smile at the million questions in her eyes. “Are you okay? You looked as freaked out as me in there.”
She chokes on her words.
Maxim, taking pity on her, observes, “One night can change everything.”
