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My brow raises. I did not just hear that correctly, did I?
“But why? Why do you want me there?”
He shakes his head, silently begging me not to ask him that question. There’s strange desperation behind his eyes and something tells me that he’s just as terrified of the answer as I am, so for once, I do him a favor and leave it.
My eyes drop to my hands. “Even if I wanted to go, I can’t.”
His voice is low and grumbly and at this moment he seems like a complete stranger to the already confusing version of Colton Carrington that I’ve come to know. “Why not?”
“I don’t have a dress or a mask so I’d look even more out of place than what I do now, and in case you haven’t noticed, being different around here is cause for humiliation.”
“You know the guys at school are only dickheads to you because they want you and know that they don’t stand a chance.”
I raise my chin and meet his eyes. “And you?”
Colton sighs and dips his fingers into the pocket of his school slacks before pulling out a familiar little card. He hands it to me and I take it in confusion. “Buy yourself a gown and anything else you need.”
I look down at the card in my hand before trying to hand it back. “I can’t do that. It’s not my money to spend.”
“You can and you will,” he murmurs, his voice impossibly lower. “Someone as beautiful as you should not be in a borrowed dress. You deserve the most expensive gown at the party.”
With that, he turns and walks away, leaving me gaping after him, unsure why my heart is racing so fast, but needing to put it to the back of my mind before I race after him and throw myself into his inviting arm, I pull out my phone.
It rings twice before Milo’s voice comes hollered through the phone. “What’s up, bitch?”
“The masquerade party just got put forward to this weekend and guess who was given a Carrington credit card to go and buy the most expensive gown she can find?”
“No way,” he screeches, excitedly. “WE’RE GOING SHOPPING!”
Chapter 29
The Rinaldi’s limousine pulls into the long driveway that leads down to the Carrington mansion and stops by the gate, marking our names off the guest list.
Butterflies swarm through my stomach. I’ve never officially been on a guest list like this before. I mean, I guess I kinda was for the black and white party but that doesn’t really count. Charles added me on as an afterthought for that one and I felt as though I was playing Cinderella going to the ball, but tonight, I feel as though I belong here.
My white-gloved hands trail over my silk gown and I catch myself glancing down at the golden material as it frames my body just right. I feel like a fucking princess.
Milo hired a hair and makeup artist to come to his place and do me up like some kind of barbie doll. I usually hate other people doing my makeup and touching my hair, but it was done to perfection and gives me chills every time I look in the mirror, which just happens to be a lot.
The driver hits the gas again and we start making our way down the drive. I find myself gawking out the window at the mansion. I live in this place yet I’ve never seen it lit up like this. Lights line either side of the driveway and although I’ve seen them there every time I’m forced to walk up and down this long beast, I’ve never witnessed them actually turn on while the moon briefly lights up the night sky.
It’s simply stunning.
Tonight could turn to shit from here on out and I’d still have the audacity to say that it has been one of the best nights of my life. This world finds new ways to amaze me every single day and today, it’s this party.
I haven’t even gotten inside and I know it’s going to be incredible. Just as Harrison had requested, I took yesterday off school and helped get the house ready for the party. I watched as trucks arrived and started unloading decorations while a sound team came in to hang speakers and set up audio equipment. I listened as they did their soundcheck and fell in love while the room turned from a plain ballroom to a venue fit for the biggest party of the year.
The limo comes to a stop and the driver hurries around to open the door. “Alright,” Milo’s mom says, giving Milo and I a warm smile while still assuming that we’re an item. “Masks on.”
My gloved fingers trail over the soft lace of the mask sitting in my lap and I pick it up. It’s amazing. Milo and I had spent all Thursday night searching for this mask but when we finally saw it, it spoke to me and I knew it was the one.
