Page 100 of I Don't Need Your Romance

We zoom toward the venue. The wind is definitely ruining my hair, but there’s nothing I can do about it.

It’s not long before he pulls into the parking lot and reluctantly allows the valet to take the bike. I can see from his eyes that he’s worried something will happen to it.

I busy myself by staring at the building. I haven’t been to this side of town because it’s super rich. I think the Harrington mansion is in this neighborhood as well. Principal Harrington lives on campus during the year, but she goes home to her mansion during the summer and on break.

“Wow,” I gasp. “Is this a house?”

“A hotel.”

“Oh.”

“Party is on the rooftop terrace.”

“Fancy.”

He just laughs before leading me inside. The man at the door asks him for his invitation and ID. Damian hands both items to him.

“Ah, Mr. Harrington, welcome.” The man dips his head. “Please take an elevator to the top floor. Your mother is waiting for you.”

“Yep.”

The guy turns to me. He studies me from top to bottom, probably assessing if I belong here. His face tells me he knows I don’t. “And you are?”

“She’s with me. My friend.”

“All right. Please go upstairs.”

“Did you see the way he looked at me?” I whisper to Damian as we make our way to the elevators.

“Sure did. Ignore him. And anyone else here who’ll make you feel like crap. They all have empty lives, anyway.”

I stop. “Why do you hate all this? I mean, didn’t you grow up in it?”

“Sort of. We’d better go before my mom comes looking for me.”

I follow him to the elevators where a guard stands at each one. He gives Damian a nod before pressing a button. When the door opens, I see another man inside. He must be the elevator attendant or something.

“Mr. Harrington,” the attendant says. “Your mother has been asking for you.”

“Yep,” Damian mutters.

The man looks at me. “Are you lost?”

Geez. I’m wearing the fanciest dress Addie owns and they can still tell I don’t belong? Do I have the words “poor girl” stamped across my forehead?

“She’s with me,” Damian informs him.

The man gives me one more look before nodding. He takes us to the top floor and tells us to have a swell time.

As soon as Damian and I step off the elevator, my eyes nearly pop right off. This venue is gorgeous. I’ve never seen anythinglike it. There are tables adorned with pretty white tablecloths. Each table has a few chairs around it, with dishes, glasses, and cutlery. There is an area on the side that’s empty—maybe it’s for dancing or mingling. Everything shines as if they were just purchased yesterday. There’s even a fountain in the center of the place.

Everything screams money. Clearly, Principal Harrington invested a lot into this.

“Damian,” a voice calls before his mom heads over to us. She’s dressed like royalty in a black dress. Like she’s a queen. Her hair is styled in an updo that makes her look much younger than she is. And her makeup? Flawless.

“You finally arrived,” she says in a low voice. “What took so long? People have been asking about you.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his body tenses up.