Page 17

My mom just told me that tonight we're having dinner with one of Victor's friend, his wife, and their son, who's apparently my age.

It's not like I was thrilled or anything, but it's not like I had a choice either.

I'm pretty sure Maya was feeling the exact same way.

Mom told me to dress up nicely because it was gonna be a 'fancy' dinner.

A rich people dinner, obviously...

I put on a white dress—fitted at the waist, a little flowy at the bottom, with a subtle lace trim along the hem. And... heels. Not crazy ones, but enough to make it look like I tried.

My makeup was light as usual, but I added a redder lipstick. I let my brunette hair fall in curated waves over my shoulders.

It was already seven p.m., and I definitely didn't want to be the one to show up late.

I walked out of my room, and... I saw Maya.

She was leaning against the railing of the staircase in front of our doors.

Was she... waiting for me? Nah.

She looked impatient. Or stressed. Or both.

Not that it was anything new...

Her long black hair fell straight down her back, and she's wearing a sleek, black jumpsuit that hugged her curves perfectly. The top was fitted, with a V-neck, and the pants were high-waisted, making her legs look even longer.

Her arms were folded across her chest, making her boobs pop...

Yeah, why am I even noticing this?

Of course, she's wearing black stilettos. Her wake-up was even darker than usual, with deep burgundy lipstick but minimal jewelry—nothing too flashy, which was strange for her.

"Hey..." I said.

Her eyes locked on me, and the intensity of her stare almost embarrassed me. Her gaze went up and down through my body, like she was trying to figure me out.

"Does... does it look bad?" I found myself asking her.

Shit.

Maya briefly closed her eyes and then let out a long sigh.

"You look good," she murmured.

"Thanks, you t—"

"Let's go, Ohio. Or my father's gonna lose it," she cut me off and walked off like it was my fault we were running late.

Seriously? The mood swings again?

We headed downstairs, and Maya walked ahead of me like she was gearing up for battle.

The Russells' mansion was all set up for this pretentious dinner—it felt like walking into one of those perfect magazines.

Crystal glasses, fancy silverware, elegant plates—the whole works.

"There you are," Victor Russell smiled in our direction. In my direction, actually.

"My partner's daughter," he introduced me.

His friend came towards me.

He was tall, probably in his 50s, with perfectly combed silver hair and a suit that probably cost more than my mom's car.

"Grace, nice to meet you," I introduced myself.

"Pleasure to meet you, Grace, I'm Derek Crawford," he said, shaking my hand firmly like we were signing a contract.

Maya let out a silent groan, but I pretended not to hear.

"My wife," he gestured toward a blonde woman, "And my son's is on his way," he added. "He should be here any minute—he took his motorcycle."

Jeez, great, another person who wants to impress.

Maya stood off next to me, arms crossed, her face set in that 'don't talk to me' expression she'd mastered.

It wasn't her usual annoyance or irritation, though. No, this was something else, a pure, unfiltered hatred.

Fifteen minutes and small talk later, Nelly walked towards the door.

I think their son had arrived. The door opened, and he walked in.

I looked up, catching a glimpse of him.

This can't be possible.

No way.

Their son was Nick.

What the fuck?!

He walked in this slow, confident path like he knew exactly what he is doing.

He wore a blue blazer over a white shirt, his dirty blonde hair a little messy from his motorcycle ride.

I froze, my stomach flipping.

I can't believe this.

The second his eyes landed on me, he gave a familiar smirk.

Of course he knew I was here—and he was liking every second of this.

I couldn't even process what was happening.

First of all, Nick is Victor's friend's son?

Second, he's rich?

And third, why the hell didn't he mention any of this?

My eyes shifted to Maya, who was giving him the death stare before shooting me a warning glare.

"Grace," Nick said, his voice smooth.

Victor widened his eyes. "You two already know each other?"

"Yes," Nick smirked. "We met at a party, and from that moment, we connected."

I could feel Maya's eyes burning on me.

I was just doing my best to hide my shock.

I really didn't want to cause a scene. All I could do was stare at Nick with a questioning look, but he just smiled.

He's so getting on my nerves.

Why is he acting like this? Does he get some sort of pleasure from this?

"Alright, everyone, let's sit down and start eating," Victor interrupted the tension.

Reluctantly, I took my seat, Maya never leaving my side, but Nick wasted no time and practically threw himself into the chair next to me, before anyone else could.

I couldn't help but feel disappointed.

Maya's jaw tightened as she sat in front of us, her eyes flicking toward Nick, not even hiding how pissed she was.

"Nick," Victor started, "How's university going?"

"It's going very well," he replied in a polite tone. "Can't complain. Things are moving in the right direction, thanks for asking, sir."

Why were things going wrong before?

Victor nodded slowly. "That sounds like the Nick I know," he said carefully.

Maya wasn't having any of it.

Her face was raging with fury.

"The right direction," she muttered under her breath, flashing Nick a glare. "Are you sure about that?"

Nick didn't flinch, clearly used to Maya's attitude, but the tension in the air was obvious.

"Yes, Maya, exactly, you understand."

Her lips curled into a sarcastic smile.

"Yeah, it's probably better this way for you, especially considering the past things..."

What past things exactly?

What are we talking about?

As she said that, everyone went strangely silent. Nick's mom almost turned pale, while his father gave Maya a VERY nasty look.

"Your daughter is never going to change, Vic," he muttered.

There must be some past secrets still lingering.

Victor Russell leaned back in his chair, sliding his hand through his black hair in a moment of surrender. My mom squeezed his hand, offering him some comfort.

"Let's just move on," he simply said.

I could practically feel how Nick's family was against Maya now—it was impossible to ignore it.

And I wonder WHY.

But Maya wasn't backing down.

No—she wasn't—of course.

"I'm just saying how things really are, right, Nick?" she shot back.

Nick tightened his jaw, his expression hardening.

"Maya," Victor addressed his daughter. "We're not here to talk about what happened in the past. Stop talking and eat," his voice growing less patient.

I could feel Maya shift uncomfortably, which was strange for her.

Nick was on the verge of losing it, but he maintained an impressively impassive expression that almost scared me.

The dinner went on, and Maya fell silent. She wasn't even eating. She was just playing with her rings, in a rapid, agitated manner.

I was concerned for her.

This whole thing wasn't right.

"So, Grace," Nick's father said, giving me a look. "What do you do?"

I just remembered he's a lawyer. Nick told me once.

"Uhm..." I murmured, nervous.

I don't know why, but I kept looking at Maya, and she always met my gaze with her intense dark eyes.

"I had a job related to art," I said.

Nick looked at me, surprised.

Of course he did—he had no idea.

He never asked me.

They kept asking questions and I had no choice but to explain what my previous job was about. Once the compliments toward me were over, they thankfully changed the subject.

I felt genuinely sad that they didn't even bother to ask Maya anything about med school.

This was unfair.

Dinner was over, and desserts and champagne were being served standing up.

My chance to finally move closer to Maya.

She stood tall, off to the side, arms crossed and lips pursed tightly. Her eyes following me as I moved closer to her.

"Are you okay?" I whispered in her ear.

She tensed up immediately. "Do I look like I'm okay?"

I sighed. "Look, I'm not here to make things worse, just... to help."

"I don't need help," she replied, her voice dry and distant. "Just leave it."

"Seriously?" I said, my voice tinged with disbelief. "You're pushing me away for no reason."

Maya exhaled slowly. "This isn't about y—it's not your problem, Grace," she said, resigned but still guarded.

I met her gaze, and she gave me a look that made it clear there was no room for argument. Then, her expression changed the slightest, becoming a little gentler.

This still pissed me off.

I was just trying to help, but instead of accepting it, she shut me down. That stung the most.

Since my attempt didn't seem to matter—I walked away in the opposite direction.

When I glanced at her out the corner of my eye, I saw she walked off too, grabbing a glass of champagne.

I drew in a frustrated breath, and as I stood there, Nick took the opportunity and approached me.

"Grace, we didn't really get a chance to talk..." his voice sweet.

"No, indeed," I replied coldly.

"How you doing?" he asked casually, sipping champagne.

The audacity...

"Can we talk about what's going on?" I demanded, dropping all pretense of niceness.

"Sure, let's just go out," he smirked, sliding his arm around my back as he guided me out of the house.

I nervously glanced back at Maya. She gripped the champagne glass so tightly that her hand almost trembled, then downed it in one sip.

I really can't stand how she looked at me. Her eyes, so cold and detached.

I wanted to reach out again, to say something, but the words got lost somewhere between anger and frustration.

And I don't even think she wants me right now.

Nick is about to explain a lot of things now— past and present—whether he likes it or not. I'm so done.

A/N

You won't see the twists and dramas coming. I'll see you in the next one... ????