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This went on for some time, with neither saying anything of importance. William was on the other side of the room. It looked as though someone had caught his arm and had him pinned to her. A woman even older than Evans. William had her sympathies, but she wished he’d just extricate himself and get over here. He hadn’t consented to wearing a wire (not that she’d imagined he ever would), and she would need him to recount whatever he’d discovered.
“That dress is amazing on you,” Clary said.
It took a moment for Anne to realize that Clary was talking to her. The sleek woman cradled a glass in one hand as she shifted her hip to the side and smiled warmly. Her high cheekbones made her all the more glamorous, and Anne felt a little dull in her presence.
“Thank you! My boyfriend picked it out, actually. I don’t usually go to fancy parties like this!” Anne said in a voice just a shade higher than her own.
“You’re not missing much.” Her accent was as thick as William’s but much more proper. “It’s the same group of gossiping geriatrics practically every time. It’s good to see new blood in here. I think I’d rather go visit a cabaret show, how about you? I heard they had a parody of Fifty Shades, you know? Whips: The Musical, how funny would that be?”
Anne smiled. She liked her, even if her father seemed to be both boring and terrible. After sharing an unending story about foot warts, he was discussing tax loopholes.
“Maybe I can get Will to take me there after we’ve put on a good show here.”
“Will?” Clary’s curiosity took her over, and she threw a glance around the room. “William Spencer? Has he really shown up here?”
“He has. He’s over there.” Anne pointed.
Clary’s eyes lit up, and she licked her lips. Anne clenched her jaw and swallowed hard. What was that look? She looked like a cat about to pounce.
“He didn’t say how he knew you,” Anne fished. “Were you two classmates? Or… more?”
Clary laughed. “Our fathers are enemies. You know how it is with old men and their little empires.”
“Well, I don’t, but William tells me.”
“Does he?” Clary smiled coyly.
“He does,” Anne insisted, starting to feel as though Clary knew something about William that she did not. Though, her air of smugness was familiar. Maybe that was a class taught at William’s old boarding school.
Maybe they had been more than schoolmates.
“Oh! Try these.” Clary grabbed several hors d'oeuvres from a passing waiter. “Mac and cheese cupcakes! America is fabulous!”
“Mm!” Anne made an obscene noise as her teeth sunk into the crispy exterior of the “cupcake.” This was good enough that both Michelle and Evie might eat it. A thought for Thanksgiving when Evie would only eat mashed potatoes and canned cranberry sauce.
The gala became just a bit more bearable as Anne listened to Clary share a few stories from boarding school. Mr. Egerton didn’t get any more interesting, but she hoped, probably in vain, that he was speaking in some kind of incredibly dull code that the boys in the surveillance van would be able to figure out.
William sent her a few curious looks as he made his way around the room, and after a while came over to Anne’s side.
“What are you doing over here with the enemy?” William asked as he strolled up.
“I’m stealing your girlfriend, William,” Clary said with a grin. “She’s too good for you. We’re gonna run off and eat cupcakes together forever.”
“The first time I’ve seen you in years, and you’re snaking my woman?” William shook his head.
Clary extended her hand like a princess, and William took it and gave a little bow. They both laughed. It was so peculiar that Anne could only stare at their intertwined hands. Clary was barely a millimeter shorter than William, and her hands were nearly the same size. For all her sleek prettiness, Anne suspected that Clary could handle herself.
“Are you snaking me, or William?” Anne asked finally.
“Ugh. I would never.” Clary retracted her hand.
“I’d imagine not, since your daddy is so intent on trying to send me back to prison,” William said flatly.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Clary smiled with a little too much glee.
William gave a nod, then tilted his head back as Mr. Egerton turned around.
“William! It’s been too long,” the man said in a gravelly voice.
“Of course, Harrold. When was the last time, hm?” William’s smile was tight.
Egerton clapped his hands together and let out a bark of a laugh. “The Airedale Auction, I believe?”
