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I nodded. It wasn’t easier when that third wheel was someone like Marcel. It made sense to me that he was Ezra’s campaign manager. When he looked at me, I could practically see the calculations behind his eyes. He was trying to figure out how he could use me to bolster Ezra’s candidacy.
I tried to relax, sure that my tension was not going unnoticed by either Ezra or Marcel. “Your mother is Carolina?” I asked.
Marcel nodded. “Good memory,” he said, once more impressed with me.
“Ezra provided me with some homework.” He’d sent me a large document with notes about the attendees and the charity that we would be attending. It had felt good to not be going into this event blind. “Your mother picked a very worthy charity. Is that because of your younger brother?”
Marcel immediately tensed, and I bit my lip to hide the smile that threatened to crack my face. That had been my way of sounding a warning shot to Marcel. I wanted him to know that I wasn’t someone who he could push around. When push came to shove, I was happy to bite back.
Ezra tensed next to me, no doubt wondering how I knew about Carolina Hunt’s youngest son. Truth was, we’d gone to school together, and while we hadn’t been friends, I’d known what had happened to him from school gossip.
“I did some of my own research,” I said, instead. I was supposed to be from Michigan, so it wouldn't make sense for me to know the gossip of the upper echelon. “I wanted to make sure I was prepared for whatever I might be walking into tonight.”
“I was worried that the sharks would eat a cutie like you right up,” Marcel said. I tensed at his use of the word cutie. It was infantilizing, which I’m sure was the point. We were in a power play here. One he refused to lose. “But maybe you’ll hold your own.”
“Be nice,” Ezra snapped at his friend.
Marcel said nothing, but I watched as his hands tightened around his drink glass. We weren’t even at the event yet, and he’d already opened the car’s mini bar. It spoke volumes about him.
As we drove through the city, I tried my best not to let my nerves affect me. For the first time in a while, I felt like the best version of myself. I was still Annie instead of Anastasia, but this Annie felt more like me.
“Do you want something to drink?” Ezra asked.
He had been quiet for most of the ride, looking out the window watching the city as it flew past our window.
“I’m fine,” I said. I wasn’t much on drinking. I’d have a glass of wine with dinner, or champagne at an event, but I’d seen too many people drown their misery in alcohol to want to partake in it myself.
“We should discuss our game plan,” Marcel said, as he polished off his drink and poured another. He offered the bottle to Ezra, but he shook his head. I wondered if he was doing that for my benefit.
“We need a game plan?” I asked.
Marcel laughed, but the sound was cruel. I might have impressed him initially, but he still thought I was some ridiculous woman who needed his helping hand to guide her. So far, I hadn’t had to do much for Ezra. Tonight, was supposed to be our big debut. I didn’t see why we needed to make such a big deal over it.
“Of course, we need a game plan. We can’t leave anything to chance when it comes to this.”
“Oh, of course not.” This time it was my turn to be sarcastic.
Ezra snorted next to me, and I smiled at him when Marcel frowned. “Jesus, you two are going to annoy me.”
I felt a certain sense of pride in that. Marcel was a man who thrived on controlling others. I’d happily make that as difficult as I possibly could for him. “Marcel likes to have a plan for everything. Personally, I think we just go inside and eat. We smile for pictures and play it coy.”
“That’s not going to work,” Marcel said.
“Why?” I asked. “Isn’t this supposed to look like a normal relationship? The more normal we play it the better it’s going to look.”
“Because,” Marcel snapped, “it’s not that simple.”
I held my hands up in defeat. “You’re the expert.” I was beginning to question that expertise. We’d only been in the car together for about thirty minutes, but I was starting to question Marcel’s so-called expertise.
“So, what is the plan?” Ezra asked, taking on the role of the peacekeeper.
Marcel went silent, and for a moment, I wondered if he was going to refuse to give us his sage wisdom.
“You need to be seen,” Marcel said.
I suppressed the urge to make him aware that we were going to be seen just by nature of people having eyes. It took almost everything in me to keep myself from stating the obvious on that one.
“You,” he turned to Ezra, “can’t sit in a corner and sulk. Take her around to meet people. Dance. Laugh. Look like you are in the first blooms of love.”
