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My mother liked running for some reason. Not that I believe anything was chasing her. My brother and I were just kids. We had no choice but to tag along.
Stepping into the Governor’s mansion, I can’t help that my eyes grow big and a whistle slips over my lips at the beauty of it. When I’ve imagine dying and going to Heaven, this is what I see as God’s palace.
The ceilings are insanely tall with decorative lighting built into recessed boxes. It’s not that flat shit I’m used to, the kind with rough popcorn texture and water stains.
“Check out this place,” I say, not really paying attention yet to the people filling it. “I can’t even imagine what it costs.”
Brinley doesn’t answer me, and it’s not a difficult task to figure out why. She’s already eyeing the people attending the soirée, her nervous energy like a damn blanket surrounding her.
It does nothing to help soothe mine.
What else is there to do than wing it? It’s not like I’m blending very well with my long blue hair and black, skintight outfit. But hell, might as well pretend to belong until someone comes along and escorts me out.
Brinley and I continue forward and just when I think I may be able to pull this off, some rich bitch in a gown that does nothing to flatter her skin tone or figure walks by, her steps slowing as she is sure to take a long gander at me.
Ignoring her, I smile at her husband and laugh when he damn near breaks his neck trying to keep me in view as they pass. His wife smacks his shoulder, pointing a finger at his face while she whisper-yells at him and picks up her pace through the foyer.
I don’t get it. All these people with more money than they know what to do with and they want to spend their time at these boring ass parties.
Maybe living poor is the way to go.
A blessing of sorts.
We never get bored because we’re too busy trying to find the next hustle or a meal for the night. There’s no time for kissing ass, or rubbing elbows, or whatever it is these people do to stay relevant.
I tell Brinley what I think, the laughter in my voice making her nervous because she knows better than to let me loose among the highly esteemed and conventional.
“Behave,” she tells me.
As if that will work. Not when I see two drop dead gorgeous men approach the grand staircase, their eyes meeting mine before they have the chance to climb the first step.
Brinley spots them as well, her stare meeting mine in some kind of warning.
“Don’t wander off,” she tells me.
I pretend to listen.
Eventually Brin has to go find the governor to give him the original flash drive that we had copied for my brother, Kane. I have no idea what’s so important about it, but I’m not the type to ask questions when matters are obviously above my pay grade.
I’m just a dancer trying to make my way in this world. I’m not the brightest, the strongest, the most talented or a tech genius like my brother.
Really, I don’t have much of a claim to fame, but I can follow a beat and attract attention, so that’s what I do. Paying the bills is important, and maybe one day I’ll rise above. I’m in college, but it’s not as easy for me as it is for Brinley, and the cost of it alone is almost too much to handle.
This party, however?
I can handle it just fine.
Especially with men as beautiful as the ones I’ve seen, I don’t mind being left alone to prowl.
Smiling politely at another woman who passes by and makes it quite clear she’s offended by my presence, I slowly saunter through the light crowd.
A small bar is set up on one side of the steps, glasses of champagne already filled. My fingers are delicate on the stem when I take one.
The bartender smiles my direction, and I nod my head in greeting.
It hurts a touch that even the hired help can’t hide their surprise at my attendance here. Before I can pass, he reaches out to grab my wrist and pull me toward the table.
Leaning over so not to be heard by the other guests around me, he speaks low.
