Truth & Temptation

by Riley Edgewood

  "It's mostly because Candace used to date his best friend. It'd be awkward to have him up there."

  "But why not have you at least?"

  "Mark wants the spotlight all on him. And I don't mind—not when it means I get more time with you on my arm."

  I blush because he's looking at me so intensely he's impossible not to believe. He leads me along the path around the side of the house to where the music is pouring through the air, and I stop short as we turn the final corner.

  The scene splayed out before me is immaculate.

  Lights twinkle everywhere. Beautiful people do, too. Throngs and throngs of them. There's a trio of musicians down the way from us, playing their triplet of string instruments with tunes light enough to make a person feel like floating. Beyond that soothing sound is a chorus of laughter, a clinking of glass, the summery chirps of crickets. A mingling of aromas twists pleasantly through my nose; spiced citronella, grilled meats, and the musty vanilla scent of tobacco—the fancy kind that goes in pipes or is from cigars, miles away from the cigarette butt stench I'm used to.

  The lawn before us is so immaculately manicured I'm tempted to bend down and get grass-level. I bet there's not a single strand that isn't perfectly even with the others. God. This plantation, the enormousness of the house and the land stretching out beyond it, makes it surreal that my grandparents' house is within a half an hour of here. It's like there's no way that other, less shiny world actually exists, and I start to realize why rich people seem so lost in their own lives.

  My palm goes slick in Alec's hand; I don't think I can do this. I turn, and he's already watching me, amused. So I lift my chin, and I pull him forward.

  A few steps in, my bravado shivers a little, and I let him take the lead. It's beautiful, this place, and it's taking every ounce of my will not to feel like an outsider. That's not how I roll. Not now, not ever.

  The entire scene is draped in elegance. We head toward a huge open-roofed structure, the skeleton of a tent made for thousands of people. Hundreds of strands of twinkling lights crisscross overhead, a roof of stars that glimmer so brightly they should be blinding, but somehow aren't. Clusters of candlelit lanterns hang here and there, suspended with metal twine tied to the high sides of the structure.

  I keep my hand tightly in Alec's. There are so many people here—hundreds—I don't want to lose him in the crowd. Tables and tables and tables line the way, surrounded by silk-swathed chairs, and centerpieces featuring lit candles of different shapes and sizes, in varying shades of ivory and cream. And crimson rose petals scattered around each arrangement.

  "Is this where the ceremony will be held?" I ask.

  "The ceremony's in the barn." Alec points off a ways to a red building in the distance.

  "Chambers," someone calls behind us. And when Alec turns he pulls me with him until we find the voice. A startlingly handsome guy about Alec's age—surrounded by a group of other similarly gorgeous people. Alec's fraternity brothers from Harvard, it turns out, and a few from his lacrosse team. And their dates.

  "We'll catch up a little later," Alec says after introductions. "I promised Teagan a tour of the property."

  He tugs my hand, but I stay put. It's sweet, what he's doing. He knows I'm not comfortable, but these are his friends, his people. They're no better than me, even if I have to remind myself of it every other second. And…if he loves them, I want to know them. So I smile and I try really freaking hard to bring it all the way up to my eyes, and I say, "You can show me later. I want to hang out with your friends."

  "I like her," says one girl, pulling my hand from Alec's. She smiles at me, her eyes—almost as dark as her skin—shining. "Let's get you a cocktail, yes?"

  I like her right back—and follow her without a backwards glance, even if the weight of Alec's gaze is heavy against my back while I walk.

  Amara is my new friend's name and she—and her other friends—love tequila.

  "I can't," I say, waving away another shot. I want to stay sober tonight. For after the wedding, for the things I want to do with Alec. For the things I want him to do to me… "Liquor messes with my medication." I'm not even sure I'm lying. I should probably check on that.

  "Buzzkill," one girl slurs, but Amara tells her to fuck off—a split second before I'm about to. Instead, I grin wildly at both of them.

  "I was worried you would all be snobs," I confess, the words slipping smoothly from my mouth, probably an effect of the two shots I haven't waved away.

  "We were worried Alec would bring Piper," another girl confesses right back.

  "Not a fan?" I ask, my face suddenly feeling numb. This, however, has nothing to do with the two shots and everything to do with Piper.

  The girl looks at me like there's no question about it. "Are you?"

  "I've never met her." I shrug, speaking casually, as though my stomach isn't inching down toward my feet.

  She's nice. She wants to meet me, I remind myself.

  She'll skin you alive, Sam once said.

  Why, why, didn't I say yes when Alec said he'd ask her to stay home?

  Because I'm a fucking moron.

  "Anyway," I say, turning to a girl whose name I've already forgotten. "Tell me how you all know each other."

  The sun's beginning to set, though it's doing nothing to cool the air, when Amara asks me, "How do you stand it?"

  "How do I stand what?" I grab a glass of water from a passing waiter, sipping it, enjoying the chill as it slides down my throat.

  "Piper?"

  This again? I want to snap. "He wants me," I say, instead. "That's all I care about."

  "So it doesn't bother you that she's with Alec right now?"

  My head turns so fast it's a damn miracle I don't lose my balance. I see them immediately. Laughing like old friends. Or lovers. He sees me almost as quickly and motions for me to join them. But I can't stop staring at Piper. She's in a dress that clings to her curves like second skin and she's…hot. Like, even my pulse trips over itself a little looking at her. Smoking body? Check. Long, dark hair and full lips? Check. Wide eyes that, even from here, look green, with streaks of jet black eyeliner out to there? Check.

  I was not prepared for this. For her.

  Alec signals me over again.

  This time, Piper's gaze follows his gesture until her eyes meet mine. Her laugh falls away like a boulder shoved straight off the edge of a sharp cliff, and her expression darkens—right down into hatred.

  The hush around me is suddenly much louder than the conversations were a moment ago, as though people are collectively holding the same breath, waiting for our inevitable confrontation.

  Because I know their relationship was fake—unless it's all been a lie, but I close my mind to that annoying little doubt because I trust Alec—but everyone else here thinks it was real. Alec must realize this the same time I do because he winces. Hard.

  Shit.

  Double shit.

  Shit times infinity.

  We should've talked more about this. Like, a lot more.

  But my feet move their direction, because I've never been one to back down from awkwardness. I've never been one to back down from anything involving a possible confrontation. I don't think I'm built that way. Like with the whole fight or flight thing, my instincts choose fight every time.

  Alec leaves Piper and strides toward me, grabbing my hand, murmuring, "I'm so sorry we didn't plan this out a little better ahead of time."

  "A little better?" I ask, my words loud against the echoes of his. I lower my voice. "You told me to trust you."

  "I'm an idiot," he says. "I forgot to figure it out with you girls."

  And then we're there.

  And then she's whispering, "Play along," before saying loud enough for anyone within hearing to catch, "You bitch."

  And then she's dragging me away. Her hand's tight on my wrist, but surprisingly not tight enough to hurt—as much as she looked like she wanted to cause me physical pain.

  "Pip
er. Let's be adults about this." Alec's matching us stride for stride, and I'm not sure if he's playing along too or genuinely concerned about her theatrics, but I shake my head at him. I've got this. I don't need a knight in shining armor, even for a fake confrontation.

  He falls off after a few more steps.

  I try to pull my wrist from her grip, but she doesn't let go, pulling me along behind her.

  This is growing embarrassing. People are watching, and Piper is clearly in control. Maybe it's an act, but I'm not okay coming out the loser, even in a play. My heel sinks into the grass and I stumble, yanking my arm from hers. "Hold the fuck on."

  She whirls around, glaring. "Do not make me cause a bigger scene here. I will if I have to—but you'll regret it, I promise you."

  Just an act. This is just an act. Just an—oh, fuck it. "How about don't make me cause a bigger scene?" I can't keep from adding a power-balancing, "Bitch." Her lips twitch, which makes it hard to keep mine steady. "I get that your feelings are hurt, and I'm sorry for it. But this is a wedding, for fuck's sake. It's not about you. Or me. Or even Alec."

  Someone behind us laughs, covering it with a cough a moment later.

  Piper starts to smile a split second before she catches herself, and giggles rise in my chest. Whoops. We can't lose it here, not after everything. So this time I take her wrist, this time I drag her toward the house, hissing, "Let's talk in private."

  We go through an entrance a few feet beyond the string quartet and the second the door closes behind us, she whirls to face me. "That was perfect."

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  "THIS IS A fucking meet cute if I've ever seen one," I say, trying to pretend I'm not dazzled by the foyer we walk into. All marble and a domed ceiling that must reach the clouds. One huge arched entryway leads out into a room the size of a ballroom. Hell, I crane my neck to peer in, discovering more marble flooring, multiple crystal chandeliers, bigger than my car, hanging from the ceiling, maybe that's what it used to be. Now it's furnished with gleaming gold-lined furniture and fancy rugs and the air even smells rich, like cotton and leather and something someone like me can't even bother trying to name. I'm too poor.

  And this isn't even the main entrance, either. God.

  "A meet cute?" Piper laughs and her entire frame shakes. "That was ridiculous. I haven't even been thinking about how we'd play this. Don't get me wrong—I've wanted to meet you, but I've had my own shit going on and… This slipped my mind. I improvised."

  "And chose to go with over-the-top dramatic?" I ask. Then, panic laces through my ribs. "Alec's grandfather's in here somewhere—we need to get the hell outside." I remember how cold his eyes were when he kicked me out of his hospital room. I can't imagine how much worse it'd be to get caught in his house.

  She laughs again, carelessly this time. "Oh, please. Old Man Winter's up on the fourth level playing chess with Dr. Greenwald. He acts sour because he can't come to the party, but trust me. He's loving life."

  "Loving life? He had a stroke," I say, my tone dry enough to make her lips twitch.

  "That old brick's got more years left in him than I probably do."

  As relaxed as she is about it, my own panic loosens. "Was the scene out there really necessary?"

  "Obviously." She gives me a curious stare, like she's uncertain why she has to explain any of it to me.

  "Why? There are thirteen different ways we could've done this." Thirteen's a bit of an exaggeration, but… "You tried to make me look pathetic."

  "I have a reputation to uphold." She twists a long curled strand of hair between her fingers, her tone bored. "Especially as the jilted ex, it's expected that I'll make drama. You gave it back better than I'd ever dreamed, too… Not that I'm surprised. Alec told me you were a firecracker."

  I should probably be offended by that, but there's too much else to process first. "You didn't look that great yourself—isn't your entire family here?"

  "They expect it more than anyone." She smoothes invisible wrinkles from the stomach of her dress and adds as an afterthought, "Shit. I forgot to check if any of them were even watching." As though she wants them to have been watching.

  That doesn't add up for me. "Aren't you people all about class and civility?"

  "There's one thing my family puts above even that." Now she studies me, long and hard enough to make a lesser girl shake. "Alec really didn't tell you, did he?"

  "Tell me what—that your relationship was fake? He did." I take a few steps past her toward a table in the middle of the entryway. There's a vase full of flowers and suddenly I'd rather study them than her. But she doesn't speak until I do.

  She twists her head toward me, a considering expression crossing her features. "My life would be so much easier if I could feel it for him. He's the epitome of a fucking catch."

  "Guess it's a good thing you don't, as he seems to feel whatever it is for me." There might be some sort of weird friendship thing blooming here, but she doesn't get to assume Alec would be with her if she wanted him.

  "Easy, tiger. He fell hard for you the first night he met you. I'm saying—"

  "What, exactly?"

  "That it'll be hard to find another beard as genuinely awesome as he is." Her mouth curves into a snide smile and she waits, waits for it to click in.

  Click. The word beard settles into place in my mind. "Oh."

  "I hear you met Kelly on the elevator?"

  "Who?" I'm thrown for a moment—and then I remember. The first night I met Alec, the scene in the elevator with the girl I assumed he had history with. "The blonde asshole chick?"

  Piper beams. "That's basically the best description I've ever heard of my ex."

  Kelly is Piper's ex. Oh my God, now I get it. "You're a lesbian?"

  "Let's go ahead and use the term queer, if we have to use one at all."

  "Okay…" I give my mind a moment to catch up with what I'm learning. Alec never even hinted… "You like girls, and your family doesn't know?"

  "I sometimes like boys too, but not as often," she corrects and then laughs, though it comes out more like a verbal representation of a sneer. "And my family definitely knows."

  Click. The final piece falls into place. "They don't support you. You have to marry a man they approve of to get your inheritance."

  "Bingo." She laughs again, this time more delighted than bitter. "I can't believe Alec didn't tell you."

  "It's your secret, not his," I say, remembering him telling me something similar. "I can't believe you're telling me now."

  "Oh, honey. I'd tell the world if I could—I'm not ashamed. But I want that money. And my best friend is half in love with you, which means we'll be in each other's lives. Might as well be honest."

  Well who knows what to say to something like that? "Um. Sorry to fuck up your cover operation."

  She shrugs. "My parents were breathing down my neck, and Alec has a savior complex where I'm concerned. It was never going to be the real thing—and there'll always be a guy somewhere out there who'll pretend to fuck me if there's a nice fat check in it for him if he gets me down the aisle." Her eyes soften. "It was nice Alec didn't care about the money. For a little while I got to be with someone who wasn't using me the way I was using him."

  "That's… I mean, your family would really make you—"

  "They're awful." Another shrug. "And for some reason I still love 'em. And anyway, Alec bought me time. I solidified my straightness to appease my family for at least…a year, or more. Who knows? Then I'll find someone new. Quickie wedding. Grab the cash when I'm of age. Quicker divorce. Voila."

  She's so casual about it. Not even a flicker of resentment passes through her eyes. I'm…at a loss for words. "How old do you have to be to—"

  "Careful, by the way," she says, gesturing toward the door. "Most of them will accuse you of wanting him for his money," she warns. But the way she looks at me tells me it's more than a warning, it's a test. And a stop sign to my questions.

  "The first time I picked him up
," I say, using my tone to warn her right back, "was in a seedy pool hall. I had no clue he was wealthy. Believe it or not, the fact that he's rich makes me less inclined to be with him."

  "Believe it or not," she says, "I believe you. Alec's not dumb enough to fall for anyone less."

  "You were there, weren't you?" I ask, suddenly realizing the truth. "When Alec… When his sister died, and he went through his difficulty with mirrors."

  She blinks, and I know I've surprised her. "Not when he broke any of them, but every time after. Of course I was. Why?"

  "He mentioned once that he owed you a lot. But your situation now makes it seem like you're the one who owes him." The bite of a blush stings my cheeks when I mentally replay my words. "Not that you owe him anything, I mean. Just that—"

  "We're friends. Closer than siblings," she says, with an easy smile. "We don't owe each other anything. It's not about that. You're perceptive. Every minute I spend with you shows me exactly why he's falling for you."

  "We should get back to the wedding," I say. "Before they send in the troops." Before she talks about Alec falling or being half in love again. Or before I drop to my knees and beg her to repeat it all, word for word.

  "Nah," she says. "They're all out there pretending our little unpleasantness never even happened. They'll gossip like hungry puppies over brunch tomorrow. Old Man Winter"—I crack up at her nickname for Alec's grandfather this time—"made it clear he has a strict no-house policy that most of them are too scared to break. But you're right. Pretend you hate me for a little while out there, okay? And in a few weeks we'll come out," she snickers, "as the friends I can tell we'll be."

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  ALEC APOLOGIZES AGAIN, but I brush it off. Things with Piper…well, they went pretty perfectly. We head over to the huge red barn for the ceremony. It's lit with twinkle lights like the rest of the property seems to be and it smells of hay and gardenias. It's as elegant as the rest of the setup with a more rustic tone. The center aisle is lined with burlap and lace.