All it would do was make things worse. Make Sam see that I hadn’t changed as much as I’d claimed. That deep down, that viper still existed. As much as I tried to charm that snake to sleep inside of me and never come back out, I couldn’t escape who I was. I was my mother’s daughter. I was Katherine’s best friend. I was Upper East Side. There was no denying that. And I could feel it in the vengeance that sprang up when I looked at that crying girl and felt nothing, except that I wanted to make her pay for touching him.
I’d say it was the normal sort of anger. The normal sort of don’t touch my boyfriend. But it wasn’t.
It was the Upper East Side level of I’ll ruin your life, and no one will ever know. And it terrified me.
Terrified me that it was still in there.
And that somehow…Sam was the only one who brought it back out in me.
I took a step backward. I couldn’t walk in there. I didn’t know what he’d say or what kind of con Claire was trying to pull. But I knew if I walked in there, the part of me I’d tried so hard to bury would surface. And I had no clue if I could put her back in a box.
“Lark,” Sam said, glancing up at me.
Claire seemed to notice me standing there for the first time. “Hey, Lark,” she said, sniffling. “I didn’t mean for you to see me like this. I just got in from Rome and it’s a bitch of a flight and I’m so tired. Such a mess.” She glanced down at my swanky outfit. “Oh god, am I keeping you from something? Do you have a banquet?”
“Uh…yeah,” Sam said. “Something like that.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I came straight here from the airport. We need to talk.”
“Yeah, I think we do.” He glanced back up at me.
I was halfway out the door like I was ready to sprint in the other direction. I saw his gaze soften for a minute. As if he wanted to say something to appease me, but there was nothing there.
“You want to head to the party? I can meet you.”
“You want me to leave?” I asked in surprise. Even though I’d been ready to run, I hadn’t thought Sam would send me away.
“Yeah. I mean, Claire and I have some unfinished business. I’ll meet you there.”
“Oh.”
“I’ll text you,” he said carefully.
I took another step back. “Fine.”
“Lark…”
“I’ll see you at the party.”
And then I turned on my heel and walked out.
My heart pounded the entire drive from Brooklyn to the private location Thomas had booked for his party. I realized when I was almost there that I had both invitations, and you could only get inside with one. Too late now.
I couldn’t go back there.
Not to figure out what the hell had happened between Sam and Claire.
Not to see my worst self reappear before my very eyes. Like watching a dark energy seep into my chest and invade my senses.
But I couldn’t stanch the rising panic. The rising nausea.
Because in some way, in every way, I should have seen this coming. Claire was going to come home. She would have had her fun in Europe and then realized that Sam—beautiful, wonderful, stable Sam—was exactly the person that she needed in her life. Who wouldn’t recognize that?
And then it would happen like last time. He claimed that he hadn’t left me for Melissa. But he’d invited her to the end of the presidential campaign. She’d stayed in his apartment. He let her infect his mind, and he’d believed her over me. I didn’t know Claire. She’d seemed nice the two seconds I met her originally. But I had no doubt that she could do just what Melissa had done.
Sam could leave me. He could go back to being with her. Perfect little Claire and her perfect fucking violin and her nice, normal family that surely didn’t barge into his life and insult him.
He might have said that I was out of his league. But maybe that was the problem. Maybe perception and reality were too far skewed. And he’d want someone like Claire again. He hadn’t been the one to break it off after all. He spent weeks mourning her departure and not even told me. Hadn’t wanted to tell me.
I felt actually sick, thinking of all of this. But my brain wouldn’t shut up. It just repeated history and all my darkest fears. Like a broken record, hitting those highlights by scraping across my memories with a needle.
The cab dropped me off in front of what looked like a nondescript office building. I’d never been here before. The street was quiet and empty. Not exactly the place I’d expect a party.
Still, I followed the instructions on the invitation and knocked on the door.
“Invitation?” the man asked when he answered.
I held it out to him. He took it, slipped it into his pocket, and gestured for me to walk down the hallway.
“Last door at the end of the hallway.”
“Thanks,” I said with a growing sense of unease.
Was this supposed to be like a speakeasy? That didn’t seem Thomas’s style.
I was regretting coming here. Alone. What if I ran into Thomas again? With my emotions all roiled up inside of me, I didn’t put it past myself to give him a taste of the Lark I had been and cut him off at the balls.
With a deep breath, I pulled open the door at the end of the hallway, and my jaw dropped. I didn’t know what I’d been expecting. A few card tables and a tiny, smoky room, but this was something else. This was established. It certainly wasn’t a few tables that he’d thrown together to get this party going. He had been doing this for a while. There were, at quick glance, at least a dozen poker tables. I could see roulette, craps, blackjack, and even a few slot machines against a wall. Music was playing from hidden speakers with a group of girls in micro minidresses dancing at the center. Platforms had been erected between some of the tables, and girls in bras and thongs were dancing atop them.
This wasn’t some little poker game he’d put together. This was a full-blown casino in the middle of Manhattan. That I’d never, ever heard about.
My gaze slipped around the room. I found Court at one of the poker tables. Camden was standing nearby with Fiona fluttering her eyelashes up at him. He seemed indifferent to her presence. I found Katherine next, not exactly against a wall—she’d never deign to look like a wallflower—but just far enough apart to make it look purposeful. I didn’t see Gavin or Whitley anywhere.
Or Thomas for that matter. Which was just fine by me.
I strode across the room to where Katherine casually sipped champagne. As if her husband wasn’t standing nearby with another woman.
“You made it,” Katherine said when I appeared before her.
“Barely.”
Katherine tilted her head. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.”
“Who do you think I am? I’ve known you your entire life. I can see when something is wrong with you. You’ve lost your glow.” She inhaled sharply, her eyes narrowing. “Did Sam hurt you?”
God, Katherine was too intuitive for her own good sometimes.
“Yeah. Well, no. I don’t know. His ex-girlfriend was waiting for him in his apartment when we showed up. And he decided to stay and talk to her. Told me to go on without him. That he’d be here soon and text me.”