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Rachel frowns, turning her gaze back to Marcus, who’s currently boring another victim with his haughty charm. I roll my eyes as I watch him tilt his head back, his fake laugh making my ears twitch in irritation.
“God, I hate that guy,” I hear a familiar voice behind me.
Glancing over my shoulder, I find Alex there with a glass of champagne in his hand and a bored expression on his face. “You and me both,” I mutter. “Why are you here?”
Alex rolls his eyes while taking a very large swig from his glass. “Couldn’t get out of it. Mother insisted I show my face.”
My arm slides around Rachel’s waist. While gesturing to Alex, I say, “Rachel, I’d like for you to meet-”
“Alex Goode,” Rachel finishes, taking Alex’s outstretched hand and giving it a firm shake. I can’t help, but notice the cheerful smile on her lips, as if she’s been dying to meet the man all night. I also can’t stop the little twinge of jealousy tugging at me, wanting to jerk Rachel far away from this track star and have my way with her in the cloakroom.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Rachel continues. “Seth has been cursing your name pretty much since we arrived.”
Alex chuckles, a mischievous gleam glinting in his eye. I’m surprised by the genuine smile he gives her, which only makes my body pull taut as I want to place myself between my friend and my girlfriend. My arm around her tightens, pulling her closer to me, yet neither seem to notice.
“Ah, so you know the great Garcia.”
Rachel flicks her hair over her shoulder and my gaze narrows, wondering if this is some sort of flirty strategy. “Well, I kinda have to. We live together.” She turns that smile towards me, and I feel all jealousy within me melt in that moment. “Me, Seth, Lucas, and Hunter.”
Alex’s attentions return to me, raising his eyebrows in intrigue. “That’s quite a full house.”
I wrinkle my nose, not knowing what exactly he is getting at. “Quite,” I say simply. His eyes narrow, but that’s all I offer. He doesn’t need to know what goes on in my private affairs.
“Oh, it’s quite alright,” says Rachel with a soft chuckle. “We live in a house near campus anyway. I was lucky enough to snag a room since I was late in applying.”
Alex tilts his head, his smile growing. “How interesting. Well, I am looking forward to my little showdown with Garcia. It’ll be nice to finally have a challenge.”
Rachel’s eyes widen. “Oh? I thought you two hated each other.”
Alex shrugs. “Eh, more like a love-hate relationship for me.” He leans in close, his lips nearly touching her ear. “You see, I love to hate him.”
I scowl as I watch him straighten, wondering why he needs to get so close to my date. Rachel’s face flushes, and I’m half inclined to drag her far away from Alex, friend or no. I know he’s quite well liked, by both men and women. I don’t need him finding a new challenge to conquer.
Alex looks at his Rolex, groaning and tossing his head back. “I’ve only been here ten minutes and I’m already dying to go. Please tell me you’re staying for the next couple hours. I really don’t want to talk to people.”
Rachel chuckles. “Should I have even come? The way you and Lucas are talking about this event makes me think of walked through the gates of Hell.”
Alex and I groan in unison and give each other a knowing look. Of course Rachel doesn’t know about gluing on a charming smile and faking interest in stocks and bonds or boosting about clients and the latest new Porsche or tech equipment. Her parents have never made her carry on a conversation with someone she absolutely loathed. She doesn’t have to hide her interests for fear someone will think her strange.
She can be true to herself.
“What?” Rachel asks while looking between us. “Is this party really that bad?” Her brow furrows, andshe places her hands on her hips. “Oh, come on. We just got here. You both are just being negative nancies.”
I sigh and run a hand through my hair, already needing a very stiff drink. “Where’s the bar?”
Alex takes Rachel’s hand and places it on his arm. My hand on her hip tightens once more, yet rather than taking her away from me, he gestures towards a crowd of people across from us with his champagne glass. “Just over there. Let’s go. I need another.” He downs his glass quickly before guiding us towards the bar.
“Did you hear about Morton and Co.?” I overhear, my jaw clenching as I pass a small group ofmiddle-agedmen and women.
“Oh, yes, just dreadful. Whatever shall they do?”
I scowl, hating the snobbiness in their tone, knowing deep down they find it funny that one of their “friend’s” business is going down. I wonder what they say about the Brents when we don’t arrive at events; or when I don’t arrive. Do they talk about my rebelliousness, or my lack of drive? Or do my parents just lie about me?
Yeah, that sounds about right.
“Oh, Mr. Blake, I didn’t know you were coming to this party.”
I still, slowly turning around and finding two men about three feet from me. One is a man in about his sixties with snow white hair and a big bushy mustache. The other is a man in his early fifties, with greying dark hair. I have no clue which one is Mr. Blake, but I know if I am going to score Mr. Blake for Samuel’s firm, I’m going to have to do it while I’m still sober.
