“It’s not their house anymore. They hold events there. Weddings, corporate retreats. A place out in the middle of nowhere where no one can hear you scream.”
His eyes bulged.
I laughed, resting my hand on his arm. I wished I’d told him all this in my letters, that I’d been so open that he could put the pieces together and figure out it was me.
Instead, I’d been guarded, even when trying to express a part of me I’d been afraid to embrace in real life. I missed reading his words and hearing a side of him I didn’t think many people got to see. Although, I saw more of it the longer we spent together.
“I’m joking. It’s so far away from the main road and other cell towers, they don’t get service out here. So, people use it to get away from it all.”
He peered around like he expected someone to jump up behind him and throw a burlap bag over his head. “That’s what all the rich people planning to play the most dangerous game say.”
I laughed even louder. “If I had to put money down on anyone surviving a game of human hunting like that, it would be you by a long shot.”
He sat up straighter and looked over the seats in front of us. There was a mix of people still drinking after the hour-long drive and those who’d probably wake up on the bus tomorrow morning.
The carriage rocked as we came to a stop in the circular drive. The event planner stood up at the front of the bus.
“Welcome to Kelland Estates. We’re here to celebrate this amazingly special day for Laura Kelland and Chet. Your bags will be sent to your rooms. There will be photographers covering every aspect of the event—some you might not even see. Be forewarned, the cell reception and wifi is almost as bad as dial up.”
“What’s dial up?” someone called out from the back.
“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
Laura stood up to quell the little ripples of discontent at the unplugged weekend. It seemed she didn’t trust her engagement party would’ve been enough of a draw to keep people from being constantly connected to the rest of the world. “Let’s go, everyone. We’ll have a technology-free weekend, everyone will wonder where the hell we’ve gone, and when we come back, they’ll freak. Just wait until you see your costumes.”
The word came out in a slow motion deep baritone.
Costumes.
We were supposed to get dressed up in costumes? Great Gatsby inspired costumes? Flashes of short silver flapper dresses flashed through my mind. Sleeveless dresses that showed my arms.
No. No. Absolutely freaking not.
Jumping up from my seat, I shoved people aside, panic rising, and chased after Laura. She disappeared into the front door being held open by one of the event staff. I thanked them and scrambled after her.
Grabbing her shoulder, I turned her around. “You didn’t say anything about costumes.”
She tilted her head to the side like she was wracking her brain to figure out how she might’ve forgotten such an important detail. “Hmm, did I not? I swore I did. It was printed on the invitation.” A face of mock surprise. “Oh yeah, the one you never picked up from the house.” She shook her head disapprovingly. “It doesn’t matter. Here’s your costume.” She held out her hand and one of the event staff handed her a hanger. She shoved the hanger with a black linen cover at me.
“But I didn’t tell you my size.”
“Mom picked it out.” And then she was gone, enveloped by her party planners and party goers.
I stared at the hanger like she’d offered me a viper covered in razor blades. I hated new clothes. I hated everything about clothes in general other than them covering ninety percent of my body.
New clothes hadn’t been tested from every angle in the privacy of a fitting room where they could be abandoned, not walked back out in front of everyone to tell them it doesn’t fit.
New clothes hadn’t been broken in.
New clothes might not cover every part of me I wanted, and new clothes from Laura or Mom were never a gift. They were just another way for them to show me I was absolutely nothing like them with their tiny bodies.
Flashes of back to school shopping when I’d been growing up sent shivers of panic racing down my spine. Walking back toward Berk like I was on the way to an executioner, I blocked out all the laughter and clinking glasses around me.
Maybe it would actually fit.
Maybe it wouldn’t look terrible.
Mom wouldn’t want me to look terrible in front of everyone.
No, maintaining the picture of perfection was what she lived for.
Breathing a little easier, I slung the garment bag over my shoulder, nearly falling over as the weight inside shifted.
“I got you.” Berk’s hand slid along my back.
Looking up at him, I totally believed it. His hold on me was solid without a hint of strain, like I was one of the lighter girls who got tossed over a guy’s shoulder on a whim at a pool party.
“Do we change now?” He looked at the black garment bag like it may have been a pack of gremlins masquerading as a suit ready to tear him apart.
“We’ve got some time. Dinner isn’t until nine. And knowing my sister, she won’t arrive until ten.”
“Did you want a drink? I could murder a beer right now.”
“Knowing my sister, you’d have to go into town for that.”
“It’s their bar bill if there’s only booze on tap.”
I snorted and jiggled the arm of my glasses. “Don’t hold back.”
He laughed and walked to the bar.
Every head turned as he walked by. Guys in my sister’s crowd weren’t exactly built like brick shit houses. I probably shouldn’t feel so bad about how my dress would fit. After a three second interaction with Berk, I could only imagine what Laura had picked out for him to wear. If I was lucky he might have to go shirtless with the legs of his pants cut off à la the Hulk.
“Julia.” The way he drew out my name made me want to barf. It made it sound like my name was Muffy or Barbie and we were in a John Hughes movie with the rich kids who were total assholes. Only here in real life, these ones were also assholes. But he was an asshole I’d liked, which made it even worse. I’d held off sleeping with him for three months of making sure he liked me, someone special for my first time. It was a whole three days before he decided there was a better Kelland sister for him. I’d been blinded to his douche status just because he’d thrown me a bone.
“Hi, Chet.” My best smile was plastered on my face.
“I’m so glad you’re here. Laura was afraid you’d back out at the last minute and everyone would be gossiping about you behind your back.” He hugged me, smelling like a toxic mixture of his and hers Chanel scents and way-too-expensive champagne. His hold continued even after my ghost of a pat on the back.
“Instead, they can do it to my face.”
He laughed, finally letting go and squeezed my shoulders. “You’ve always had such a wonderful sense of humor.”
I looked down at his hands and back up to him. What was his deal?
“Hey, Jules. I’ve got your drink.” Berk broke the uncomfortable staring match I’d been roped into.
He expertly handled the two champagne glasses even with one hand taken by the garment bag, and handed me my drink.