Even in yoga pants and a sweater she looked pretty. She has the same pointed nose as me but that’s just about where the similarities end. With her brunette hair in a pixie cut with streaks of blue and pink and her eyes chocolate brown, we were the exact opposites. She is petite and short with an attitude strong enough to catch attention where as I have a tall profile which tends to clash with my rather reserved personality.
“Alright, smarty pants” I tease playfully. “I should get ready for work, two jobs remember?”
“Yeah, I was thinking you should take a day off I am going to get you ready for that dinner and once I’m done with you, you will look amazing enough to make them forget all about your mishap of the past”
It took two hours of styling my hair and another one to select the perfect dress for the occasion (not too casual, not too formal etc.) for Sarah to be completely satisfied with my look. Now my hairs are curled to perfection and I am wearing a very expensive white cocktail dress which belongs to my best friend, on my way to my dad’s house. I shudder with the thought of what happened the last time someone trusted me with something of theirs. I anxiously glance in the side mirror to see if I looked okay. Despite my constant pleading Sarah insisted on putting some light makeup on my face.
“It will make you look classy and besides it’s only fair for that gorgeous dress to accessorize it with some make up” She said sounding like the dress was her best friend instead of me.
I make my way to the street to catch a cab. The cab driver shouts at a passerby who appeared out of nowhere on the road. The tall buildings and the hustle and bustle of the city does little to calm my nerves. The cab staggers to a screeching halt on Fifth Avenue. I get out and shove the dollar bills in his direction. He scurries off tires squealing as if in delight. I shuffle towards 6th street snuggling deeper in my coat. There is a bit of a chill in the air, but my pulling my coat in tighter is more for my own comfort. I hasten my pace as the building comes in to view. When my dad married Emily he moved in with her. Their apartment occupies the whole first floor of the building which made it a great place to host parties, spacious and deserted enough to not have complaining neighbors. I near the porch steps, the music playing softly lets me know that the party is in full swing. I knock on the door twice. When no one answers I warily ring the bell, still no answer. I stand there long enough to form a resolve about going back and just telling my dad later that I came but no one answered. The thought of getting to skip this much dreaded dinner almost has me jumping with excitement, however, just as I turn around to leave the door jerks open followed by an all too familiar voice.
“Hey you Miss platinum blonde, come on back the party just got started”
I hear the words but I am too shocked to process what they mean. I tell myself that perhaps it’s just a figment of my imagination, that maybe it’s not him, that this is just a very awful dream and if I pinch myself hard enough it will be over. But as I turn around praying I heard wrong, my suspicions are unarguably confirmed by the face that greets me.
Chapter 3 – Dale
I suck in a breath, my eyes traveling from his intricately tousled mop of black hair to his well-defined cheekbones. His smooth chiseled jaw and tan skin making his lustrous lips stand out, their movement slaps me out of my reverie and I mentally hit myself for checking out my despicable excuse of a step brother, check that terrible excuse of a human!
"What are you doing here?!" He snarls hatefully all friendliness gone from his tone.
If he was surprised to see me he didn't show it. Just as I thought, pretty from outside ugly from the inside.
"I can ask you the same, asshole." I tell him and move towards the door.
“Get out of my way, Dale"
I try to not look up at him. But it is hard with him towering over me, his athletic frame becoming more prominent. He moves two inches to the side as an answer. I sigh in absolute frustration of having to pass through the little space with him in such close capacity. It amazed me how someone could be so attractive on the outside and so unattractive on the inside.
"Aw have you forgotten already that this is my house? I can come and go as I please."
He responds, the conceited persona slipping in like second nature. When I don't say anything to that he smirks knowing that he had me there
"Move"
I say firmly, concentrating on not letting the agitation I feel seep into my voice. This time he listens stepping aside to let me in. The door clicks shut and I start taking off my coat as I feel his strong callused hands on top of my bare arms, light as a feather, as he slides down my coat sleeves. He leans in and I feel his warm breath on my neck. I close my eyes heart beating a mile a minute. I feel tingles shoot from where he is touching me on my arms. When he whispers, his voice is deep and husky
"Watch out, Foster."
He murmurs leaning in much too close for my comfort. I swallow and then acting on pure impulse I bring down my 2 inch heel on his sneaker padded feet forcefully, silently thanking Sarah for convincing me to wear heels. The barely audible cry that follows gives me the satisfaction that I caught him by surprise. He was looking at me incredulously. That will teach him.
"Play your games with your bimbos, Dale. I don't have time for your crap."
I say glaring at him. I turn around and as swiftly as possible, make my way to the lounge where the party is, the sooner I get away from him the better.
Emily studied Art History when she was in college so unsurprisingly every part of the house is decorated in careful detail with loads of paintings accessorizing the walls. For example, the lounge has a wood carved Egyptian fire place instead of the typical electronic one. The floor is entirely engulfed by carpets with beautiful intricate patterns matching the designs on the cushions of the sofas. Usually, I would consider sitting near the fire place and enjoying a cozy evening with a book by my side but today the area was invaded by nearly twenty people. And the only thing worse than having to deal with so many people at the same time is all those people being your close or distant relatives. I nod my hello to all the curious stares and prying eyes obviously wondering what I have been up to. My dad has massive family that mostly consists of intrusive women and laid back men from the country side. Since they all live a great deal away these gathering are thankfully rare but concerning to say the least.
I make a bee line to where my dad is sitting trying my best to steer clear of Aunt Brenda and her attempts at pulling me in to another one of her conversations. Seeing Emily I go to her first. She envelops me in a hug as a form of greeting. Emily is far from your stereo typical step mom they show in movies. My dad met her a year after mom died. Before the marriage was announced, she was the one who insisted on having my approval first. To my young self, being given that kind of importance was a special thing in itself. And it sounds a bit cliché but after the marriage she was kind enough to care for me as one of her own.
“I am so glad you could make it, Christopher kept saying you won’t come! Looks like I win the bet”
She declares now, lips stretching in to a full smile that reaches her eyes. Her blue orbs dance in contained amusement as she looks at something or someone behind me.
“Chris! You owe me forty bucks son”
She yells at him across the room. I resist my basic instinct to turn around; keeping my eyes focused on Emily as a distraction. She shakes her head black hair coming undone.
“You made a bet on whether I will attend or not?”
I inquire finding the situation highly entertaining besides my step brother’s obvious involvement in it. She struggles to come up with an acceptable answer that will possibly explain a mom betting against her son on whether her step daughter will show up on a family dinner. I burst out laughing at her feeble tries and the fact that she was actually beginning to think she made me upset. She rolls her eyes once again back in her mom role.
“Go find your dad I’ll try getting all these people to the dining room”
She says
before lightly hitting me on the head, eyes affectionate. She disappears in the flock of people as I sober up and finally make my way to my dad.
Unlike the living room the dining hall is all colors and hues of purple and black. There’s a huge table in the center lined with crockery made of delicate china. Everyone is already sitting as I enter with my dad. He goes ahead and takes up the vacant chair at the head of the table. The only empty seat left available happens to be just beside my unbearable step brother. Feeling more than a twenty pairs of eyes on me I quickly settle myself between him and a 13 year old girl with pigtails. I will myself to face forward intent on ignoring the stares. Fortunately, Emily enters at that moment with the food and the excited chatter starts again.
The dinner was delicious. As everyone begins to complement Emily on her culinary skills my dad opens a bottle of wine. When he offers me some I politely refuse. For some reason this catches Aunt Brenda’s attention, a felony I have tried to avoid the whole night.
“So Isabelle, what are you doing these days?”
She probes raising her eyebrows with a fake smile plastered on her make up caked face. I bite my lip trying not to let her get to me. Aunt Brenda has always had a thing for prying her nose in to other people’s business. If there is anything I hate more than Christopher, it would be Aunt Brenda’s vile ways to make others miserable. I calmly look up at her dyed blonde hair and sinister smile and tell her about my college, making sure to be as vague about my financial conditions as I could.
“Oh right, college Have you thought about getting married dear? Or do you have a boyfriend?”
She asks feigning innocence. Beside me, Christopher snorts. Since I sat down I have stolen a few guilty glances of him. Dressed in a fitted black shirt that highlights his biceps and dress pants he looks breath taking and if Sarah was here she would be gawking at his very visible abs. I shake my head as if to shake this train of thought out of mind and instead, I focus on thinking of a legitimate answer to Aunt Brenda’s question that won’t disclose the truth completely but won’t be a lie either. The thing is the people in my family love to gossip. And I wouldn’t think twice before telling her the truth but if I do it will get spread as quick as fire and the next thing you know they are looking for a boy to get me married. I am not even exaggerating, in fact I wouldn’t be this paranoid if I hadn’t witnessed it happen before. I am about to excuse myself from the table when I feel something wet fall on my dress, a second later I hear the sound of a glass being shattered just beneath my feet.
“Oops”
Even before I hear it I know who is the reason that my white dress is currently soaked with red wine. I snap my head towards him. That cocky jerk is smirking at me. It takes all the patience I have to not slap that stupid smirk of off his face.
“Oh honey come with me I have a spare dress that will fit you, and don’t worry about the mess I’ll get the maid to clean it up”
Emily says yet again handling the situation perfectly and saving that insufferable jerk from getting his nose broken.
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Vain: A Stepbrother Romance Page 14
