Live For Me (Blurred Lines #2)(35)
Author: Erin McCarthy

“Your grandmother died, Tiffany, I think he’ll understand.”

I hoped so.

I hoped he would understand that this was a path I’d had to follow alone. That our new and fragile relationship, whatever it was exactly, needed to be separate from something as emotional and overwhelming as death. That I’d been unable to trust him.

Or trust myself not to want something he could never give me. Love. A home. Family. Forever. That was what I wanted.

If I had the courage, that was what I would ask for.

Unfortunately, what I wasn’t expecting was Devin to pick me up at the ferry dock with two total strangers in the back seat of his car. I had been standing there for about twenty minutes talking to Marty, the ferry operator, who had been friends with Cat’s brother back in high school. Or Martin, as he told me he now preferred to be called.

“Who the hell is that?” Martin asked when the Lamborghini tore into the parking lot faster than was necessary, music blaring audibly even with all the windows closed. It was a driving R&B beat.

“That’s my boss.” I picked up the bag at my feet and gave Martin a smile. “Thanks for keeping me company.”

“Are you sure you should go with that guy?” Martin adjusted the hat on his head and frowned in Devin’s direction.

He was out of the car now, the music louder. He strode toward me, and I started walking fast, not wanting to introduce them. I could see people in the backseat of the car. Devin looked sulky. I suspected I was going to be punished with bad behavior for my silence. I probably deserved it. I just wished it didn’t mean I had to talk to strangers.

“Hey.” He reached out and took the bag from my hand. “How is your grandmother? Doing better?”

I shook my head.

“No? I’m sorry.” In five steps we were back at the car and I didn’t want to elaborate. “I hope you don’t mind, but I was already picking up Jay and Sapphire at the train station.”

“Um… no, of course not.” I peered into the backseat as we got to the car, trying not to be obvious. “Is that the singer Sapphire?”

“Yep. And her husband, who is a DJ. Jay Ray. Heard of him?”

Unless I lived under a rock, yes, I had heard of them. Of both of them. “Are they staying at the house?” I was seriously regretting my decision to go back to Richfield.

“New Year’s Eve party. There are three other couples already at the house.”

Fabulous. Wonderful. Not. I felt a little sick to my stomach. “I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to interrupt…”

“Don’t piss me off,” he said, opening the passenger door for me. “I’m already seriously annoyed with you. You couldn’t at least text me and let me know you were okay? I was f**king worried about you!”

“I’m sorry. It was emotional.” Then I slipped into the car before he could question me further. I turned to the backseat, feeling small and ordinary. “Hi. I’m sorry you had to come out of your way to pick me up.”

“Not a problem,” Sapphire said, and her smile looked genuine enough.

She was a platinum blonde with a skin tone similar to mine, her eyes heavily made up with blue shadow. She was wearing a cashmere hat and a leather jacket. The guy, wearing a camel colored trench coat, didn’t even look at me.

“Let’s get this party started,” Devin said, jumping in and putting the car in drive.

He didn’t sound like my Devin. He sounded fake. Falsely enthusiastic. “Who wants the first shot of Crown?”

“Oh, God, seriously, G?” Sapphire asked. “You’re such a white boy.”

Jay Ray laughed and I saw he had a gold grill on his front teeth.

Yeah. I was so out of my element.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, no one spoke to me. They taunted each other over drinking for a few minutes, then the conversation turned to people I’d never heard of who were in Vail for the week, and how maybe they all should go there once the ball dropped. They could fly west and celebrate midnight on New Year’s all over again.

“We can celebrate it in three f**king time zones!” Jay Ray said.

“Let’s do it.” Devin pulled into his garage, parked, and turned around. “I’ll text my assistant and have her set everything up.”

I sat there, painfully awkward, my shopping bag with my grandmother’s ashes at my feet. When we went into the house, I bent down and greeted Amelia, grateful for a familiar face. Grateful to be able to hide mine. There were voices coming from the family room, the kitchen. Laughter. Music. I moved as quickly as possible without attracting any attention, intending to head straight to my room.

“Where are you going?” Devin asked, cutting my escape off. He looked volatile, angry.

“To my room.”

“Why?”

“Because these are your friends and you’re having a party. I don’t want to intrude.”

“I want you here.”

God, why was he doing this? Couldn’t he see how uncomfortable I was? “Why?” Not one of these people would give two shits if I were there or not. Already I could see Sapphire darting curious glances back at us. A woman with an afro, the woman in one of the pictures in that packet that had been delivered, glanced around Sapphire at us as well. They whispered to each other.

I shuffled my weight from one foot to the other, miserable. I should have stayed at Cat’s. That was clear.

“Because I want you here. I’m not asking,” he added, taking the bag from my hand and setting it down on the console table by the garage door. “Now come and meet everyone.”

Except that no one was particularly interested in meeting me. They all briefly glanced at me then went back to their conversations, their elaborate cocktails, their posturing. The women were tall and thin, except for Sapphire, who had bangin’ curves and was tiny, maybe five feet tall. They talked about people in the music industry with affection or cattiness or disdain depending on the subject of gossip. They talked about the future of touring and digital downloads. They did shots and fiddled with their extensive jewelry and walked confidently on thousand dollar high heels.

The men swatted their asses from time to time, or gave affectionate kisses, but they too talked business and did shots, and smoked cigars in their expensive sweaters and jackets and Italian shoes. They were a mix of ethnicities and everyone was beautiful.

I sat in the corner by the Christmas tree and watched, saying nothing. The nine of them mingled, some in the kitchen, some near me, eating little appetizer things and completely ignoring me. At one point, two of the women made tidy lines of coke on the coffee table and sucked it up into their nostrils with diamond encrusted straws. Specialty drug paraphernalia. How Hollywood. Slap a diamond on everything you own.