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It was late, and Esme was a little, teeny, tiny, itty-bitty bit drunk. Just a smidge, though. Just an absolutely minuscule amount drunk. Like, less than one percent.
“Esme?” It was Sophia’s voice.
“That’s me!” Esme replied, barely slurring her words at all.
“Are you okay, sugar? You look a little bit confused.”
Esme giggled. “Confused? I’m not confused. I’m deadly certain about it all!”
Another Little, Julia, laughed, asking, “What is she even talking about?”
Sophia didn’t join in the giggling. “This is meant to be a kind of serious evening, kiddo.”
It was true. Thiswasa kind of serious evening. Esme had been a good girl up until after the big announcement of Marcus’ choice for a successor. Then she’d been a very, very naughty girl.
She was still reeling from the announcement. Marcus had chosen Rainer. Mister serious. Mister “I don’t have time to laugh.” Mister “I’m irritatingly perfectly proportioned.” Mister “My arms are thicker than the trunks of most young trees.”
Esme tried to look extremely sober. “Don’t worry, Tati told me I was allowed to have fun.”
That was also true. After she’d read the will, Tatiana had commanded that the MC have a good time, celebrating Marcus’ legacy, and his contribution to the club. Considering he’d founded the club in the first place, it was a long legacy.
There had been stories about his legendary riding and his bravery. There had been stories about his wise choices and the way he’d led them back to their home in New York City. And there had also been lots and lots of drinking games.
Esme didn’t normally drink much. But with the week she was having, and how sorry for herself she was feeling, she couldn’t help it. When Sophia had asked if she wanted to share a cocktail with her, obviously she’d said yes. Then she’d said yes to another, and now, she was halfway through a third.
“What do you think?” That was Fleur, one of the only Littles associated with the club who was actuallyintomotorcycles. “About Rainer?”
“He’s an asshole,” Esme said, a little too loudly.
“Esme!” Sophia said, in shock.
“It’s true. He’s always like ‘Esme, don’t put your hand near the angle grinder!’ and like, ‘Esme, five cookies is too many cookies.” She shook her finger in an accusing way, just the way Rainer did.
“He said that to you?”
“Yeah, I went to his workshop with my scooter one time. Something broke on it. The… fume… pipe? He fixed it, and he showed me the tool he used and gave me cookies.”
“Sounds like a monster,” Sophia said, sarcastically.
“Exactly!” Esme said.
“I think he’s gonna be a great Prez,” Fleur said. “He’s smart and thoughtful.”
For some reason, a flame of jealousy flared up in Esme. Did Fleur have a crush on Rainer? And why did it matter if she did?
“Well, he hates me, anyway,” Esme said. “Only four cookies. Pah! Who doesn’t eat five cookies?!”
“He didn’t look thrilled by the announcement,” Sophia said. “Maybe there’s gonna be an election after all.”
“I don’t wanna see Rainer’s election,” Esme said, stressing thelin the word.
The other girls round the table laughed.
“I wouldn’t mind,” Fleur joked.
Esme felt a tide of nausea rising in her tummy. Was she actually going to vomit?
“’Scuse me,” she said. “Just gotta go… somewhere.”
