Page 43
Story: Spearcrest Queen
I’ve always noticed her, her presence a blazing beacon in the periphery of my life, casting everything else into shadows. And now, she’s burning her way into everyone else’s notice, attention, esteem—and I’m the one in the shadows.
“She’s doing well, isn’t she?”
I turn. Adele is holding two flutes of champagne, one of which she hands me. I take it with a distracted nod, glancing back at Sophie.
“Of course she is. It’s Sophie we’re talking about.”
Adele pushes her shoulder into mine—an exact imitation of how Dad used to when I was younger and he was trying to get my attention. “Are we going to say hi, or just stand there staring at her all night?”
I turn away from Sophie like I’ve been electrocuted, facing Adele.
“We can’t. She—” I hesitate for a second, stomach dropping. I want to tell Adele the truth, but my deal with Sophie was that we’d telleveryonewe’re no longer together. So I wave a hand and mumble, “We broke up.”
Saying it feels like a curse, like speaking it out loud, even if it’s a calculated lie designed to keep me at her side, will somehow make it real. I half-expect to turn and find Sophie vanished from the room—from my life—leaving nothing but a sweet-smelling curl of dark smoke behind.
For a moment, Adele is completely silent, blinking my own blue eyes back at me as she figures out what to say. Probably something like “about time” or “good for her” or “it’s shocking she didn’t do it any sooner.”
But all she says is, “I’m sorry, Evan.”
“Don’t be.” I give her a smile even though I can tell it doesn’t look remotely sincere. “You said it yourself, right? She’s far too good for me. Always been.”
She shakes her head. She’s wearing a deep blue dress and diamond earrings, her hair loose on her shoulders. Five minutes ago, she looked sparkling and full of mischievous cheer. Now, she looks thoughtful, almost sad.
“I don’t think that matters, Evan. Not between two people who love each other.”
“Maybe. But maybe there are more important things in life than love.”
“No, I don’t think so.” Adele smiles. “I think it’s not a matter of what’s more important, but a matter of timing. Sophie’s got more important things in her liferight now. But there will be a time when all her hard work pays off, and I think love will be very important to her then.” She sips her champagne and smiles suddenly. “You know what her favourite book is?”
“Jane Eyre,” I answer automatically.
“Have you read it?”
Should I have? I’d always assumed it was too complicated for me. I shake my head, heat rising to my cheeks. “No.”
“Poor orphan teacher Jane Eyre loves rich Mr Rochester, but she leaves him. She wouldn’t be with him until she was his equal.”
“She does?”
I glance over my shoulder. Sophie is standing near two men who both seem very interested in what she’s saying. A girl with black hair and an ivory silk dress leads her away; both men’s eyes follow Sophie. I turn back, my stomach a black, churning pit.
“So what are you saying? That Sophie has to be rich to be with me, otherwise I’ll just be the obsessed rich guy who’s taking advantage of her?”
Adele rolls her eyes and scoffs. “Personally, I think Jane Eyre should’ve let Rochester burn in his bed and married her sexy cousin instead, but that’s what’s great about books, Evan. Everyone can make their own interpretations. Now, come.” She loops her arms through me and marches firmly away. “We need to get that creepy old judge to make a massive donation, and I need you to distract him so he doesn’t stare at my chest the whole time.”
Part of me knows that she’s only giving me a mission to distract me from the conversation we just had—from Sophie, and from me waiting on the sidelines while she makes her fortune, or burning in a bed while she marries her sexy cousin or whateverJane Eyreis actually about. But another, bigger part of me is grateful for Adele, too. I can’t exactly spend all evening staring at Sophie, can I?
“I’ll handle the judge,” I tell Adele, squeezing her hand quickly. “You go speak to Olivia Langley, she’s richer than god but she looks at me like I’m a clumsy puppy who’s about to piss on her Louboutins.”
Adele laughs and kisses me on the cheek. “Love you, kiddo.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I wave her off as she walks away. “Love you too, sis.”
I’ve just walked awayfrom the judge and stuffed two canapés gratefully into my mouth when a voice like the grinding of cracked nails on concrete creeps up from behind me.
“Your mother throws a nice party, Knight.”
I turn slowly, forcing my shoulders to stay relaxed.
“She’s doing well, isn’t she?”
I turn. Adele is holding two flutes of champagne, one of which she hands me. I take it with a distracted nod, glancing back at Sophie.
“Of course she is. It’s Sophie we’re talking about.”
Adele pushes her shoulder into mine—an exact imitation of how Dad used to when I was younger and he was trying to get my attention. “Are we going to say hi, or just stand there staring at her all night?”
I turn away from Sophie like I’ve been electrocuted, facing Adele.
“We can’t. She—” I hesitate for a second, stomach dropping. I want to tell Adele the truth, but my deal with Sophie was that we’d telleveryonewe’re no longer together. So I wave a hand and mumble, “We broke up.”
Saying it feels like a curse, like speaking it out loud, even if it’s a calculated lie designed to keep me at her side, will somehow make it real. I half-expect to turn and find Sophie vanished from the room—from my life—leaving nothing but a sweet-smelling curl of dark smoke behind.
For a moment, Adele is completely silent, blinking my own blue eyes back at me as she figures out what to say. Probably something like “about time” or “good for her” or “it’s shocking she didn’t do it any sooner.”
But all she says is, “I’m sorry, Evan.”
“Don’t be.” I give her a smile even though I can tell it doesn’t look remotely sincere. “You said it yourself, right? She’s far too good for me. Always been.”
She shakes her head. She’s wearing a deep blue dress and diamond earrings, her hair loose on her shoulders. Five minutes ago, she looked sparkling and full of mischievous cheer. Now, she looks thoughtful, almost sad.
“I don’t think that matters, Evan. Not between two people who love each other.”
“Maybe. But maybe there are more important things in life than love.”
“No, I don’t think so.” Adele smiles. “I think it’s not a matter of what’s more important, but a matter of timing. Sophie’s got more important things in her liferight now. But there will be a time when all her hard work pays off, and I think love will be very important to her then.” She sips her champagne and smiles suddenly. “You know what her favourite book is?”
“Jane Eyre,” I answer automatically.
“Have you read it?”
Should I have? I’d always assumed it was too complicated for me. I shake my head, heat rising to my cheeks. “No.”
“Poor orphan teacher Jane Eyre loves rich Mr Rochester, but she leaves him. She wouldn’t be with him until she was his equal.”
“She does?”
I glance over my shoulder. Sophie is standing near two men who both seem very interested in what she’s saying. A girl with black hair and an ivory silk dress leads her away; both men’s eyes follow Sophie. I turn back, my stomach a black, churning pit.
“So what are you saying? That Sophie has to be rich to be with me, otherwise I’ll just be the obsessed rich guy who’s taking advantage of her?”
Adele rolls her eyes and scoffs. “Personally, I think Jane Eyre should’ve let Rochester burn in his bed and married her sexy cousin instead, but that’s what’s great about books, Evan. Everyone can make their own interpretations. Now, come.” She loops her arms through me and marches firmly away. “We need to get that creepy old judge to make a massive donation, and I need you to distract him so he doesn’t stare at my chest the whole time.”
Part of me knows that she’s only giving me a mission to distract me from the conversation we just had—from Sophie, and from me waiting on the sidelines while she makes her fortune, or burning in a bed while she marries her sexy cousin or whateverJane Eyreis actually about. But another, bigger part of me is grateful for Adele, too. I can’t exactly spend all evening staring at Sophie, can I?
“I’ll handle the judge,” I tell Adele, squeezing her hand quickly. “You go speak to Olivia Langley, she’s richer than god but she looks at me like I’m a clumsy puppy who’s about to piss on her Louboutins.”
Adele laughs and kisses me on the cheek. “Love you, kiddo.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I wave her off as she walks away. “Love you too, sis.”
I’ve just walked awayfrom the judge and stuffed two canapés gratefully into my mouth when a voice like the grinding of cracked nails on concrete creeps up from behind me.
“Your mother throws a nice party, Knight.”
I turn slowly, forcing my shoulders to stay relaxed.
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