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Marielle laughs. “Good. The last thing I need is more competition in this group. Jesus, look at her face. I’d be doomed if they weren’t related.”
It feels surreal to be in a room with people discussing me as if I’m not standing right here, listening to them.
“Where did she come from?” Francesca asks.
Annoyed, I finally speak up, “Shecame from Scotland, by way of a few places.”
Heath laughs then approaches me, his hand outstretched. “Good to meet you, Emelia. Don’t listen to these idiots. I, for one, am happy to meet Alexander’s little sister. Are you single?”
Colette, an Asian girl with gorgeous long black hair and shimmery gold eyeshadow, steps up and grips Heath’s shoulder, tugging him away from me. “Down boy, you’ll scare her.”
“I am single,” I say, trying to prove that this crew doesn’t intimidate me. Okay, only a little.
Heath grins. “Good, now let me hurry and go rearrange the place settings at the table so you and I are next to each other. I’m sure Alexander thought ahead and put you as far away from me as possible.”
Colette rolls her eyes. “Ignore him. He’s harmless, mostly.”
I smile, grateful that she seems willing to play nice.
More voices filter in from down the hall, and another few people join us. Introductions happen so fast I can’t keep track of names, and the only information given about me is that I’m Alexander and Emmett’s sister, which they all find extremely interesting.
“Since when do they have a sister? I’ve literally never heard of her.”
“Right? I’ve been to their house plenty of times for birthdays and things and she’s never been there.”
That comment stings more than any of the others. I find myself annoyed with Alexander for inviting me here then leaving me alone to fend for myself. Had I known this would be the case, I would have just skipped tonight altogether.
Waiters start to appear with drinks and food, and Heath corners me for a few minutes, asking me questions and inching closer until Colette pries him away to the other side of the room. Seeing my opportunity for what it is, I make my escape out onto a small balcony. I noticed someone go out there earlier to smoke, but now it’s blessedly empty.
It’s cold—too cold to stay out here for very long—but I appreciate the quiet as I lean against the railing and take another sip of my drink, hating the fact that it’s almost gone.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize someone was out here,” says a polished feminine voice behind me.
I turn, and my heart sinks when I see Miranda standing in the doorway, obviously waiting for me to invite her outside or cast her away. I hadn’t considered the possibility of her being here tonight, though I suppose it makes sense. These people all seem to be connected one way or another.
“It’s fine. I wasn’t going to stay much longer.”
I make a move to go back inside, but she angles her elegant silver cigarette case toward me. I shake my head, declining her offer.
She shrugs as she walks to the far side of the balcony, giving me space. “Just as well. It’s a terrible habit. I only do it every once in a while, and tonight feels like a good night. Talk with me a second, will you? I’ll be bored out here by myself otherwise.”
I contemplate going back inside and ignoring her request, but politeness wins out. I remain in my spot against the railing. How surreal to be sharing a balcony with the very woman who turned my stomach yesterday. I study her as she lights her thin cigarette, inhales, and then deftly exhales the smoke out toward the night sky. She’s wearing a dark green dress that hugs her figure. Her hair is swept up in a loose knot, and her diamond earrings gleam in the low light seeping out from the sitting room.
I’m wondering if Jonathan gave her those earrings as she says, “I saw your photo with Jonathan in the press. That red dress.” She tuts. “You knew what you were doing with that one.” She repeats the ritual with her cigarette and taps off the ash twice before peering over at me. “I didn’t realize Emmett and Alexander had a sister.”
“I keep to myself mostly.”
“Yes, of course, except for when you step out in a come-hither red gown, I suppose.”
Her comment is meant in jest judging by the cheeky smile she’s aiming my way, but even still, I fidget on my feet, trying to hide my embarrassment.
“So you’re the baby of the family, huh? You sure look young. Are you still in college?”
I shake my head. “I work in the city.”
“Where?”
“Banks and Barclay.”
