“You want me to go...with you?”
“Yeah, as a peace offering. I know you said you weren’t interested in being my friend, but I don’t know anyone else who would appreciate it more than you. And...” I paused and pretended to struggle with my apology. “I’m sorry for what I said about you not caring. That wasn’t fair. If you don’t want to, I can let my mom know. She can release the tickets back to the museum. I’m sure they’d have no problem selling them—”
“No, I want to go. But I don’t have a fake ID. How are we going to get in?”
“Don’t worry about that. My mom’s contact said it was fine. They just won’t give us ID-check bracelets for the bar.”
Haley looked skeptical, but I knew I couldn’t push. If this was going to work, Haley had to come on her own.
“I have always wanted to go.” She spoke like it was an admission of guilt, and I laughed.
“Like I said, it’s up to you.” I held my hands up and let them casually fall to my sides. “You don’t even have to go with me if you don’t want to. I can have them leave the tickets at will-call for you.”
I left my baited trap wide-open and waited. This was the make-or-break moment in the plan. There was no further cajoling. I had something I knew Haley wanted; I just didn’t know how badly she wanted it and what she was willing to risk to get it. If there was one thing I learned through the Red Court, it was that wanting was a powerful thing.
“No, I would feel bad if you didn’t get to go, too. Thanks for the offer. I would like the extra ticket.”
Her gratitude seemed genuine, but we didn’t live in a world where I took anything she said at face value. Not anymore.
“Ok, let’s meet there. Doors open at 7:00 p.m.” The first bell rang, and I gathered my things. “See you later.” Saying goodbye, when I’d been explicitly told not to, was my final test. Her response would tell me where I stood.
“Bye, Ember.” She gave me the smallest of smiles.
A flare of triumph rose up inside me and I gave her my brightest smile in return. It was my turn to deal the cards, and I was working with a stacked deck.
CHAPTER 39
I STOOD AWKWARDLY outside the art museum that Friday night, trying to look like I belonged. Among the glittering crowd in designer jeans and stilettos, my standard jeans and T-shirt would have stood out too much, and not in a good way. April served as my stylist for the night, vetoing almost every outfit I tried on. We’d finally dug out a teal sequin tank and black jeans that I paired with an old pair of her heeled boots. My mom contributed the black satin blazer to complete the look.
I felt ridiculous. And cold. Ridiculously cold. Even with all my ploys as part of the Red Court, I’d never felt more like a fraud than I did amid a crush of adults like a kid playing dress-up. Plus, the kohl eyeliner April had insisted on was irritating my eyes. My hands itched with anxiety, and it took all of my practice not to rub them along the rough denim fabric of my jeans.
“What are you doing?” I heard Haley’s voice from behind me. She emerged from the throng pushing their way into the warmth of the museum and looked me up and down. Her critical expression confirmed I looked like as big of a fraud as I feared. Haley was in her standard black-on-black ensemble, wild blond curls fluttering around her face in the icy wind.
“Blending in.” I gave her a slight sneer.
She slowed her steps and eyed the security stationed at the door checking IDs. “Are you sure we’re going to get in? If I paid twenty dollars to park for nothing...”
“Relax. It’s going to be fine. We’re not even going in this entrance.”
We skirted the side of the building and I located the service door for employees in an alley. A guy a few years older than us stood outside in shiny black shoes and a black wool coat. He was cute in a I-probably-like-to-sail-and-have-a-ski-chalet-in-Vail kind of way.
“Are you Ember?” he asked as we approached him.
“I am.” I flashed him a confident, toothy smile. “Is Henry coming to meet us?”
“Unfortunately, he had to deal with a catering issue and asked me to wait for you.” He eyed us critically and had probably surmised we were not twenty-one. “I’m Ethan. I intern for Henry.”
“Well, thanks for waiting for us. I’ll be sure to let my mom know that you guys took such great care of us.” I reached out and gave his arm a squeeze to punctuate my words, lest he get cold feet about letting us in. Haley glanced sidelong at me. It was amazing how much desperation could motivate a person to step out of their comfort zone.
After another moment of hesitation, he stood to the side and passed an ID badge over the door’s keypad. “This way.” He swung the heavy door open and a blast of hot air blew my hair up around my face in an honest-to-goodness Marilyn Monroe moment.
Ethan led us through the busy kitchen. Servers in black vests swooped in and out of the melee while white-coated cooks bellowed that more duck confit appetizers were ready. My stomach rumbled in response to the intoxicating scents of citrus and spice.
Shutting down the urge to reach out and swipe some of the hors d’oeuvres from the silver trays moving swiftly past me, I risked a glance at Haley. The grin plastered on her face told me I made the right choice in bringing her here. Already her hard exterior had cracked, revealing a girl giddy with the thrill of stealing into a VIP event.
“Think I can get us a couple of wristbands for the bar?” I whispered to Haley. My mom trusted Henry enough to keep us out of any real trouble, but she didn’t know Ethan.
Haley seemed to remember herself and tucked away her smile, giving me an indifferent shrug. “If you think you can without getting us escorted out.”
I quirked my brow at her. “Challenge accepted.”
We followed Ethan out of the kitchen and into the atrium at the museum’s entrance. The airy space was lit with strands of lights overhead and an electric guitar could be heard crashing down from somewhere on the second floor.
“Thank you again.” I turned to head up the escalators before pulling up short. Making a good show of looking around, I turned back to Ethan. “Is it going to be weird that we don’t have bracelets like everyone else? I just don’t want to look too obvious.”
My performance lacked delicacy, and Ethan took the bait, shooting me a skeptical look. “Oh, so you promise if I get you two wristbands that you won’t touch a drop of alcohol?”
I raised my palms to him in coy admission. “Ok, so I wouldn’t go that far. But I won’t tell if you won’t.”
He shook his head at my exaggerated wink and ducked behind the docent’s counter. There were a few small boxes stored out of sight and I watched with a smile as he produced two red wristbands from a packet.