The Initiation (Filthy Rich Americans 1)

Technically, no, but I was happy she was happy. I nodded.

“But Mr. Costolli said he’d sold it.”

“He did. He sold it to Royce.”

Her fingers paused. “Oh.” Her face fell. “Royce owns it now?”

“He, uh, gave it to me.”

She drew back like the icy diamonds had suddenly scorched her fingers. “What?” Disapproval splashed on her face. “No, Marist. It’s too much money.” She tipped her head down and looked at me with seriousness. “A man who gives you something like that is going to expect a great deal in return.”

Emily looked like she was going to be ill.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “We’re way past that point.”

My mother froze. “What?”

I shouldn’t have said anything. “I’m kidding.” I tried to deflect. “Have you had any of the food yet? I’m starving.”

I still had no appetite, but perhaps Royce’s ability to lie was rubbing off on me.

My mother looked at me dubiously, but then gave up. “I liked the spring rolls better than the caviar.”

I wanted to talk to Emily alone, but as our mother prattled on about her friends and their dresses, my window closed. I only had a few minutes left before I needed to meet Royce at the fountain. Who knew who might stop me along the way? Hopefully no more board members.

“Find me later,” she whispered and clutched me tightly when I said my goodbyes.

Tables covered in white linens were dotted with black cloth napkins and surrounded the temporary dancefloor. Since it was not yet in use, I cut through it and made my way toward the entrance to the hedge maze. I was nearly there when Sophia Alby stepped in front of me, blocking my way with a smile that was as plastic as her nose.

“Marist, hey! Can we take a selfie together real quick?” She scrambled to pull her phone from her clutch which perfectly matched her gold sequined dress.

Of all the mean girls at Cape Hill Prep, Sophia had been the queen. When Royce said I was a ‘nobody’ all those years ago, he’d been talking to her. He’d created the virus of my social disease, and she’d been the one to disperse it far and wide.

“You want a selfie?” I wrinkled my nose. “With me?”

“Um, yeah.” Her silly laugh was tinny and grating. “You look amazing, and we’re friends.”

Wait, what? Was she on drugs?

Sophia must have assumed I was okay with it when I hadn’t moved. She cast an arm around my shoulder and held up her phone at the same high position Alice had done earlier. I bet if I had measured the angle, it would have matched perfectly.

“Smile!” she said in a sing-song voice.

My cheeks were already worn out and I was only an hour into the party, but I did the best I could. She snapped a few pictures, examined the results on her screen, and looked satisfied.

“Want me to send them to you?” she asked.

My filter temporarily shorted out from overuse. “What for?” When Sophia’s face twisted, I went into damage control. I plastered on a bright smile. “Just tag me in them and I’ll repost.”

She liked that idea a lot. “Oh, perfect!”

“I have to run. I think Royce is waiting on me.”

She nodded like she was an understanding friend, and I began to wonder if she was delusional or suffered revisionist history from our time in high school. “Of course,” she said. “Tell him I said hi.”

“Right,” I ground out through my toothy grin.

There was a velvet rope drawn across the entrance and a sign hanging from it that announced no guests were permitted in the hedge maze, but no one stopped me when I slipped behind it and disappeared between the walls of dense evergreen.

Pebbles crunched underfoot as I wound deeper into the maze, and I was sure the underside of the train of my dress was going to look awful, but I kept going. The sun was low in the evening sky and the high walls of the hedges cast shadows, but the landscape lighting was already on. Warm, diffused light glowed along the narrow corridors and illuminated the statues standing guard at the dead ends.

The buzz from the party dimmed, and I let out a tight breath. It was lovely being here alone in the maze. A few fireflies floated in the air, their yellow flash so quick it was over by the time I focused in on it.

I didn’t remember the correct route to the center, but I also may have forgotten it on purpose. It was fun to wander and guess, and more times than not, I’d found myself facing a stone cast Aphrodite or reproduction of the Venus de Milo.

Just when I started to worry about the man waiting for me, I turned a corner and the hedges parted. They bowed into a circle, and the tiered, bubbling fountain lay in the center. Glass votive candles flickered along the wide rim of its pool, which doubled as a bench.