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“Maybe,” I allow. “Anyway, I used to dress in large jerseys and extremely unflattering clothes, and there was this boy…” When a flash of annoyance passes over Oliver’s face, it does nothing more than please me. “He asked me to the spring dance. Naturally, I refused.”
“Naturally,” Oliver murmurs, his eyes dancing with laughter.
I glare. “Moving on. He kept insisting and started paying attention to me, the small things. And I ultimately gave in. However, when I showed up at the dance, he was with another girl. The entire thing turned out to be this huge colossal joke.”
Oliver is no longer smiling, something like anger and disgust moving over his features. “Tasteless.”
My own lips curve at the way he’s taking the side of the heartbroken girl I had been when that asshole humiliated me in front of the entire school.
“Oh, I got my own.” I grin, enjoying the way his eyes light up in interest at my coy words. “Puberty, it seems, had my back. All it took was dressing up a little bit. My female ‘assets’ developed quickly. Within a few months, I was hiding a different body under the large sweaters and baggy pants. There was as swimsuit contest in my school, so I signed up.”
My smile is vicious when I hunch forward. “When I walked out on the stage that evening, I was a completely different person, and Ronald was in the front row. That smug little bastard was leering until he heard my name called out. I won that contest. Later, he approached me in the locker room to ask me to prom. The fucking nerve.” I lean back. “So, I said yes.”
Surprise flickers over Oliver, but he lets me talk.
“Prom was in a few weeks and Ronald was all over me, flirting, giving me gifts, wooing me all over again, trying to flaunt his prize. I let him. I made sure he was completely head over heels for me by the time prom came around. The day of, I cited a family emergency and told him I’d meet him there.” My smile is wide and malicious. “And then I showed up with Lucas as my date.”
Oliver blinks. “Lucas?”
I nod, shrugging. “I had to bribe him a bit, threaten him some, but I finally managed to win him over. Ronald never met my eyes again after that day.”
“You can be very cruel,” Oliver says, not entirely put off. In fact, he seems pleased.
Strange man.
“It’s called survival.” My smile is sharp. “I’ve lived in a man’s world my entire life. I wasn’t going to let some arrogant git who rolls around in money walk all over me. The best part was that, after my little stint, I went back to my old clothes, just to prove the point I could if I wanted to, but I just wasn’t interested in living by everyone else’s rules.”
“Well…” Oliver studies me with newfound interest. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“What about you?” I ask. “Tell me about your family. You seem to know enough about mine.”
Oliver waits until the waiter has set our food down, topped off our wineglasses, and left. “I’m the last of the Thornton line. I have heard rumors that one of my ancestors was a bastard child of royalty, but I’ve never bothered to check up on it.”
I tuck my tongue in my cheek. “Now, see, when I said, ‘your family’, I meant from this century, not the eighteen-hundreds.”
He flashes me a faintly amused smirk. “I think you mean sixteen-hundreds. And I was getting to that. The family fortune dwindled, then rose when someone decided to make a few wise investments. The family home I have in Britain is mostly a manor, and I let it be used as a tourist location. My immediate family moved to London. My parents died when I was in my early twenties. Since I was an only child, as was my father, I inherited everything.”
“So, in simple words…” I gesture with my fork. “You’re rich.”
He peeks slyly from under his lashes as he cuts the duck on his plate. “If it helps my cause, I think loaded would be the correct word.”
I have to laugh at how unashamedly he’s flaunting his wealth, willing to use it as a hook. “It’s not going to work in your favor, unfortunately.”
Morosely, Oliver sighs. “I thought so.”
“Do you own a yacht?” I ask, suddenly remembering how I had used to love boats as a young girl.
“Do you want me to?” Oliver asks in turn.
I bite into my food, chewing thoughtfully. “I always wanted to own a yacht. For a day. Just to see what it’s like to lay on the deck in my swimsuit, feeling rich, as the sun gives me an unforgivable tan.”
Oliver arches his brows, his eyes heated. “I might buy one now, if only to see you lazing around on it while scantily clad.”
I smirk. “If you’d be that lucky. Besides, I’ve never had a desire to be rich. It just seems like people would lose the drive we have inside.”
“I haven’t,” Oliver points out.
I shrug. “But I might.”
