Page 29 of Cruel Pleasures

My demure smile remains, my tone artificial. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

“Of course you do. How many beautiful, wealthy, available Black women are in our circles? I assure you as a man who is searching for his wife, not very many.”

…ever think they’re hiding from you?

“Interesting,” I say. “If you’d excuse me, I’m supposed to be meeting someone.”

I scuttle around him before he can stop me and disappear into the sea of Midnight Society members. Big gowns and ornate masks surround me. Dozens of conversations happen at once. The animated chatter bounces off the walls and drowns out the classical music playing in the background.

Secrets and lies hum in the air. The many indiscretions and illicit affairs. Some of the most fucked up evils in society all gathered in one place. I’m under no illusion the Midnight Society members I’m surrounded by are good people… especially after last night.

Two people were murdered in gory fashion and they’d treated it as entertainment.

Wandering the room feels like swimming in shark-infested waters. All the more reason to remain alert, keep my cool and play coy.

The house staff weave in and out of the crowd offering flutes of champagne.

I accept one only for appearances and the occasional sip. I’m still on the lookout for Archer. Disappointment has begun to trickle over me at the possibility it was a ruse; he hadn’t really intended on being my escort for the occasion. Though I’m not sure why I care at all, except maybe because he signifies strength. Security of some kind in this warped, fucked up scenario.

He was covered in blood like it was nothing.

Eventually, I work the entire grand hall, catching nuggets here and there, like Mr. Vanderson’s affair and someone named Klein Fairchild’s penile disfigurement.

I drift into the main ballroom made up of fine marble with ceilings that feel as high as the sky.

An endless rotation of society members spin around the dance floor. Everyone becomes a blur of swishing long skirts, tuxedos and the distinctive masks disguising their faces.

Just when I believe I’ve escaped him, Chadwick Thomas scoops me up. I’m swept away onto the dance floor, becoming one of the many couples rotating about. Immediately, he establishes himself as an excellent dancer, pulling me into position with his hand clasping mine. The other rests on my waist as he whirls us around.

It takes me a moment to catch up to what’s happened.

“We didn’t get to finish what we started.”

“I wasn’t aware we started anything.”

“I’d like to tell you more about me,” he says without waiting for my answer. “I’m the son of tech CEO, Damon Thomas. Do you know how many times I’ve scoured these parties for a woman like you? You’re everything I’m searching for in a wife.”

“I’d be flattered if I cared to be your wife,” I snap before I can censor myself. I rip my hand from his and take a step back. “Unfortunately for you, I’d rather eat glass. Excuse me.”

I leave him staring after me as I march off the dance floor.

Talk about pompous, big-headed dicks!

Men in these circles can be insufferable. I’ve experienced it when I used to bartend at more exclusive bars and lounges. I’ve even experienced it when casually dating and coming across a guy with a fat wallet. They truly believe because they have money and power, they can have anything.

Any woman would be lucky to be their wife.

Please.

I don’t want to be his wife… or anyone else’s. I never have and never will. After the fucked up marriage I witnessed in Mom and the man whose DNA I share, I couldn’t want anything less. Marriage and children have never been on my life’s bucket list.

Hot and irritated from Chadwick’s audacity, I step right into someone. Right into Archer.

I wobble back on my heels. He’s immovable, tall and stoic in a gold volto mask that covers half of his face. His large, warm hands find my bare shoulders and he steadies me. His dark cerulean eyes have found me first, glued to my face like earlier at the rooftop pool.

It’s only a second yet it feels closer to an eternity. A moment where I stare up at him in surprise and he stares down at me in… something I can’t place. Intrigue? Interest?

Whatever it is, it takes my breath away. I’m temporarily speechless, my lashes fluttering with every blink. Then the second ends and I remember to play my role.