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Then who is?
THIRTY-FOUR
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Shit always hasto hit the fan on a weekend, meaning I’ll have to endure two full days without seeing Daisy because I had to go home with my sister to spend a little quality time with Mom and Dad.
I’m going to hate every fucking minute of it.
Home is our parents’ townhouse on the Upper East Side. It’s been in the family for generations and the second they moved in a few years ago—they wanted to move practically the moment they inherited the place from a dead relative—my mother went right to work. Hiring the best designers in the city to completely transform it.
Now it’s bright and white with cool blue accents—I can hear my mother saying those exact words right now—and looks like every other place there is out there.
As I stare at the living room right now, I can’t help but think, yet again, that it looks like they live in a museum, not a home. There’s nothing cozy about this place. I’m afraid to sit on some of the furniture, it looks so delicate. Like I might bust the velvet blue chair with the spindly clear plastic legs.
“Darling, that chair was twenty thousand dollars. Please be careful how you sit on it,” Mother says to me as I perch on the chair, obviously uncomfortable.
No wonder I’m scared I’ll break it. Twenty Gs for an ugly ass chair? Damn.
“Want a drink?”
I glance up to find my sister standing at the bar in the corner of the living room, two glasses sitting on the counter, her fingers wrapped around the neck of a bottle of Tito’s. Sixteen and she knows her way around the family bar. Terrifying.
“Please,” I tell Edie, earning a hard look from Mother Dearest.
“It’s so early,” she scolds.
“It’s five o’clock somewhere.” Edie adds ice to each glass and pours the vodka almost to the rim, not adding anything else to it.
I start to sweat, taking the drink from her with a murmured thank you before I take a big sip.
I get the feeling I’m going to need as much alcohol as possible to get through tonight.
We got here Friday evening and I pretty much locked myself away in my bedroom, my thoughts focused on Daisy and nothing else. I still can’t believe we almost got caught by her dad. Worse? I can’t believe he said such awful things to me. Ralph clearly can’t stand me and that guy loves everyone on campus.
What the hell did I do to him to make him dislike me so bad?
Now it’s Saturday afternoon and we’re about to go to some high society dinner that’s going to be boring as shit. I already tried to dip out but Dad said that was a firm no. Edie feigned a headache and they wouldn’t let her bail either, so we sent each other a suspicious glance, unsure of what we’re in for.
Our younger brothers—twins, nightmares, the both of them—are away at a boarding school in Switzerland where they belong. They need all the discipline they can get because if everyone thinks I’m reckless? Wait until they meet those two.
“It’s almost four. Gimme a break,” I mutter into my glass before I take a more fortifying swig. The alcohol burns going down my throat, but it’s a pleasant sensation, coating my empty stomach with warmth. I haven’t eaten much since I got here, too twisted up over what I’m going to do about Daisy. If I don’t eat something soon, I’m going to be a drunk ass before we even leave for this dinner.
“Is that what you’re wearing tonight?” Mother’s snide tone tells me she doesn’t approve.
I glance down at myself before lifting my gaze to hers. I’m wearing charcoal gray dress pants and a light blue button down that is ironed to a perfect crisp. There isn’t a crease anywhere to be found in this damn shirt and that still doesn’t please her. “What’s wrong with it?”
“You need a tie,” Father says as he strides into the room. Edie already has a glass out and is pouring vodka into it, which he takes from her with a smile, raising his glass in a toast to all of us. “Cheers to the family being together.”
“We’re missing two,” Mother adds with a sniff.
I watch her, noting how her lip curls with disgust. She doesn’t seem happy, but when does she ever? The Lancaster men never seem to pick nurturing women.
Well, I hope to break that mold. If I end up with Daisy, I’m fucking set and so are our future children because she’s the sweetest person I know.
The realization that I can see Daisy as wife material has me sitting a little straighter. Like what the actual fuck? I’m eighteen and thinking of Daisy being the one for me?
Yeah.
