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“You know, we didn’t have to attend. It’s not mandatory or anything.”
Her blue eyes widen. “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. When else am I going to get a chance to look around the Morgan mansion and rub elbows with the elite of Hawthorne? Tonight, we’re like Cinderella at the ball.”
I give her a tight smile, wishing she wasn’t in such awe of these people. Most aren’t worthy of her admiration.
The front door swings open and a tall, thin man gives us a quick once over before stepping aside and allowing us entrance into the spacious foyer. It’s probably as big as our entire ranch.
“Good evening.” He extends an arm toward a woman dressed in a simple black outfit carrying a silver tray filled with a dozen flutes. “Feel free to help yourself to a glass of champagne. There’s a bar set up in the dining room and all the silent auction items are on display in the music conservatory.”
“Thank you.” Mom beams, brimming with pleasure as she helps herself to a glass of bubbly liquid before bringing it to her lips and taking a delicate sip. “Mmm. Delicious.”
As we step farther inside the monstrous house, her gaze bounces around the room, trying to take in everything at once. It would be impossible not to be awed by the sheer amount of wealth on display. From the gorgeous, crystal chandelier that hangs suspended from two stories above to the intricate iron banister that curves along the sweeping staircase and the arched doorways that boast detailed plasterwork. It all drips old, established money.
“This place is even more beautiful inside than I imagined,” she says, voice filled with awe.
Unlike Mom, I’ve been attending parties in mansions like this since freshman year. A good number of the girls I’ve gotten to know at HP live in similarly sized homes. Maybe not this grand, but affluent by anyone’s standards.
“And look at how beautiful everyone looks. The gowns are gorgeous, and the jewels so sparkly.” She leans closer and whispers, “It’s doubtful they bought their dresses at Rothchild’s. I had to scour the racks just to find this one.”
Jasper mentioned that his mother and a few of her friends flew to Chicago for a long weekend. These gowns didn’t cost a couple hundred dollars, they were more like thousands.
Her hand flutters to her hair as if to make sure every strand has been sprayed into place.
“You look lovely, Mom. Don’t worry.”
“It’s hard not to feel self-conscious.” She shifts from one foot to the other and takes another quick sip of her drink. “I feel so out of place.”
“We could always leave.” A hopeful note enters my tone. “Maybe pick up a pizza on the way home, get into our pajamas and watch a movie.”
I’d much rather be cozied up on the couch than here with a fake smile plastered across my face.
She gives me anare you crazylook before shaking her head and dismissing the suggestion. “That would be incredibly rude. Maybe we don’t have the kind of bank accounts that most of these people do, but we still have class and manners.”
I force a smile through the disappointment. “You’re right.”
She slips one arm around my waist before giving me a squeeze. While searching the sea of people, she takes another drink of champagne before craning her neck. “Oh, there’s Edmond!”
Edmond?
Before I can ask who she’s talking about, she takes off across the room, teetering on sky high heels until reaching Mr. Pembroke. He’s deep in conversation with Kristina and Benedict Morgan.
Oh god.
Edmond Pembroke?
My heartrate accelerates as my gaze stays fixated on her, watching as she leans in to kiss the slim blonde’s cheek before doing the same with Benedict. Her expression softens as she shakes Mr. Pembroke’s hand. If I didn’t know they were anything but employee/employer, I probably wouldn’t read too much into her behavior.
That, unfortunately, is no longer the case.
The wattage of her smile increases. She’s practically glowing as she stands beside the headmaster. I watch in horror as her fingers settle on his forearm.
“Wow, you look gorgeous.”
Knocked from my thoughts, I swing around only to find Jasper. He’s holding a flute of bubbly in one hand and a crystal tumbler of amber colored liquor in the other.
“Thank you.” My fingers drift over the pale pink gown with its sweetheart neckline and tulle skirt. “So do you.”
He flashes an easy grin. “I look gorgeous?”
