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He gulped back his beer and nodded.
“Billy’s freaking out that Mrs. Lovechilde will whip him.” Drake chuckled.
Billy gave him a dirty look. “That’s between us, mate.”
“Hey, Grandmother’s cool,” I said.
“She wasn’t so cool when accusing me of stealing some necklace and setting the cops on me.”
My breath hitched, and I hoped no one noticed, though Drake gave me a weird look. It was hard to hide anything from him; I was discovering. He was so locked in with me, which, in one sense, was touching—when I wasn’t trying to hide guilty secrets from him.
The uncomfortable reminder of the necklace I’d stolen from my mother and pawned came back to bite me. At least I hadn’t stolen it from the Lovechildes. Will had after my mother had asked him to take something of value from my grandmother.
I held my tongue just as Grandmother came towards me in a green sheath, looking much younger than her age. She could have been my mother’s sister, or even my older sister, given that we shared a resemblance.
The guests stopped talking and gave her the attention reserved for a queen. That wasn’t an exaggeration, either, because my grandmother boasted a commanding presence. She held her head high, especially with her long neck emphasised by a smoothly wrapped bun at her nape.
I’d always admired the way she walked and how she presented herself in a crowded room. She might have been an actress stepping onto a stage. Maybe that was how it had been for her in the beginning. She’d inspired me to keep my head up when walking into a room of people. I’d always stared downwards or into space. Never eye contact. Maybe I was frightened of what they might see.
“Say, your grandmother is so stunning. She should be in Hollywood.”
I smiled at Sapphire. She sounded so young.
Grandmother came to me and touched my dress, giving me a look of approval. She liked that I’d stopped wearing tiny skirts and low-cut blouses.
Another habit I’d learnt to shake off. My mother had drummed into me the importance of showing off one’s assets to attract a better life. All my wearing little had done was attract dickheads.
My dress had an exposed back, however, which had been enjoying visits from Drake’s soft touches, giving me goosebumps and making my nipples tighten.
All it took was a side glance for him to remove his hand, out of respect for my grandmother.
She knew we were dating. I’d told her. That was before the whole Crisp fake marriage bullshit story. At least that slime bag hadn’t made a show to the party. Yet.
“You invited your friends, I see,” she said.
Her eyes settled on Billy, and I noticed how he shrank on the spot. She could be very intimidating.
“I trust you got that letter of apology and cheque?” she said, looking straight at him.
He nodded slowly. “Thanks.”
“Good. I hope you all have a lovely night.”
She turned to me. “Can I have a word?”
I followed her out to the yellow room, known as the family room, at the back.
“Drake and you are official?” She sat down on a floral sofa.
I dropped into an armchair. “I love him, Grandmother.” Two champagnes, and I’d gone all soppy.
“Rey tells me you’re to marry. That you accepted his offer.” She studied me for a moment. “To be honest, I was rather unimpressed. You’ve got a comfortable future without having to marry a man old enough to be your grandfather.”
My chest deflated as I sighed loudly. “I don’t want to. But he’s threatening me.”
Her brow creased, or at least tried to. Grandmother was rather partial to Botox, as I’d discovered during my time at the Pond.
Tears sprang out of my eyes.
