by Anthology
A man walks by them, getting my attention dressed in an all-black three-piece suit carrying a tray of flutes. The girl in the party dress reaches up and snatches one. I have a feeling this is the sister who didn’t make it yesterday morning. What did they say her name was?
She lifts the flute to her lips, but Pristine snatches it from her hand and takes a drink herself. The younger one rolls her eyes and pushes her hip out.
I take a sip of my champagne as I allow my eyes to sweep over Pristine again. I remember liking her instantly yesterday morning. I don’t normally fit in with the rich crowd because I’m too outspoken and I don’t follow the rules. But she was a lot like me. And I liked that. Usually, I go for the ones who dress on the sluttier side, but those aren’t always the best lays. I’ve been with enough to know.
The younger sister says something and then storms off; her arms over her chest and her purple hair bouncing as her heels smack the floor.
Pristine takes another drink, and this time, she sucks down more than the last. She seems upset. Irritated maybe. She pulls the flute away from her lips and looks around aimlessly until her eyes meet mine, and I stare at her without shame. She holds the flute to her chest while her free hand grabs her dress at the thigh. She lifts it up off the floor and then heads right towards me.
I quickly take a gulp of my drink and then place my hand over my crotch to make sure I had zipped my slacks. Thankfully, I had. She smiles as she reaches me.
“Hello again,” she says as if she didn’t tell me to go to hell yesterday.
“Hello.” I go along with it and let my eyes run up and down her tight body. “Nice dress.” I compliment her.
She runs her free hand down over her waist. “Nice of you to notice.”
How could I not? She takes a sip of her champagne and then licks her wet lips. She reaches up and touches my cheek. “You shaved.”
“I felt like the occasion called for it,” I say as her hand drops to her side.
She smiles before slamming back what remains in her flute. Once it’s gone, she swallows and looks up at me as she pulls the flute from her red-stained lips. Without thought, I lift my left hand and cup her cheek. Her blue eyes widen as she stares at me in surprise. “Is everything okay with you?” I ask, already knowing it’s not.
“Why would you ask that?” she replies softly.
“You seem…” I look at her again, dropping my hand from her face as I think of the right words to say. Her shoulders are still pulled back, but they look tense. I go to open my mouth when a hand lands on her shoulder.
“Pris.”
Her entire demeanor changes. Her lips thin and her eyes narrow just a bit as she continues to stare at me. Very slowly, she turns her head to the left to the man standing beside us. Stepping away from us, she moves to the point his hand falls off her shoulder.
“Malcolm,” she says with a flat tone.
I look back and forth between them with confusion as his face contorts into pain. “I’m sorry to interrupt.” He looks at me and then back to her. “I just thought—”
“I knew you were invited,” she interrupts him.
He nods and then places his hands in the front of his pants pocket. “I didn’t wanna be rude,” he says, shuffling from foot to foot. “Just thought I would say hello.”
“Hello,” she says and then turns her body back to face me, obviously done with this uncomfortable exchange.
He nods to himself once again before he walks off with the woman who stood silently by his side.
“I was going to say tense,” I say, referring to what I was saying before he interrupted, “but now, I’m going to go with pissed.” Her eyes are narrow, her nostrils flared, and she’s breathing heavily.
“I need to eat,” she says, letting out a long breath as if she’d been holding it in.
“Uh…” I start digging in my pockets. I find a red Life Saver in the pocket of my suit jacket and hold it up to her. “It’s all I have.”
She looks from it to me. “Wouldn’t it be ironic if I choked and died while eating a Life Saver?” I smile, and she snatches it from my hand. She tears the wrapper and puts it in her mouth. I watch her swallow.
“Did you just swallow that whole?” She nods and frowns as if disappointed she can still breathe. “Guess it’s not your day,” I joke.
“Obviously, the odds are not in my favor.” She goes to take a drink from her flute but realizes it’s empty. I hold out my almost full one to her. She takes it without thought. “Thanks,” she says before tilting it back. “Hope you enjoy yourself, Chaseyn,” she then adds, back in her bitchy tone. Then she turns around and walks off.
Chapter Four
Pristine
“You look gorgeous,” my father says, finding me huddled by the bar area over in the corner. It’s where all the waiters make their trays. After I had finished Chaseyn’s, I decided this was where I needed to be.
“Thank you. You look handsome,” I say, trying to give him a smile.
He chuckles. “You know your mother. She made me dress up.” He looks around the room. “Where is she anyway?”
“Not sure. Don’t care.”
“Pris…”
“Malcolm has arrived,” I say, refusing to look around for him. I really don’t wanna make a fool of myself at my mother’s party. I’ll never live it down. I take another drink. “He brought a date,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Oh, Pris,” he says softly. “I’m so sorry.”
I wave him off as if I don’t care, but my father knows me better than that. “It’s not your fault he moved on so quickly,” I tell him.
“He should have enough respect to come alone,” he says as his features harden. My father is very protective of his girls.
I shrug. “Well, that’s one thing he was always lacking. Respect.” Seven years I gave that man. It wasn’t enough for him to humiliate me. He made me be the one to call off the wedding. Then he brings a woman here. To my parents’ home. I take another drink.
“I can speak to him if you’d like. Or throw him out.” He wiggles his eyebrows. I think my father misses his old life sometimes. He was a bouncer at several bars. But when he met my mother, his life changed. Her father owned a winery in Napa Valley, and my father started working for him. Then he got sick, so my father took over for my grandfather. He eventually inherited the winery and now owns several wineries in California and one here in Denver. Every winter, my family comes to Denver for the holidays. Ever since Malcolm and I broke up, I chose to move here permanently.
“Just the thought makes me feel better,” I say with a smile.
“I’m here to help,” he says before leaning down and kissing me on the cheek. “Don’t let him see that you’re hurting, sweetheart,” he whispers into my ear then pulls back and gives me a wink. “You’re too beautiful to care about someone unworthy of you.” Then he turns and walks off.
I take another drink of my champagne as I lean up against the bar. I’m starting to feel pretty good. I’m definitely regretting the black dress I wore. The long sleeves and high neck are making me sweat and itch. I can’t wait to get naked.
I look around the ballroom, and my eyes catch Chaseyn’s. He’s watching me! I go to walk back over to see if he wants to join me by the bar. He seems like the only other one who wants to actually have fun, but I come to a stop when I see the woman who is standing beside him. He’s staring at me as she leans into his side. She’s laughing and talking, her lips pressed to his ear. He stands motionless, holding a full flute in his right hand and his left in the pocket of his black slacks. She pulls away, laughing again, and lifts her own flute to her lips.
Did she come with him? I didn’t see her earlier when I was talking to him. I’ve definitely never seen her before.
She reminds me of my little sister, full of life. Maybe a little bit of a rebel. Either way, she looks like she belongs under neon lights more so than in a ballroom. Her bleach-blond hair is down and messy, her dress revealing.<
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He gives me a soft smile, and I return it. Then I turn, giving him my back, and grab another flute of champagne. Guess I’m the only one who didn’t bring a date. And I’m regretting it.
Chaseyn
My date sighs as she looks down at her phone. “We’ve been here forever. When are we leaving?” she whines.
“Later,” I say, not even bothering to look over at her. My eyes are fixed on Pristine. She stands with her back to me while she drinks the champagne like they’re going to run out. Something is bothering her.
She was going to come talk to me until she saw my date. Then she had that lost look on her face again.
I look over at the man she called Malcolm. He stands in the far corner by the large Christmas tree with that woman on his arm. They laugh and talk to people that I don’t know. The woman places her left hand on his chest, and I see the diamond flash under the lights as she throws her head back laughing. She’s his wife? Who was Pristine to him? Was this the ex that she had been engaged to?
My eyes shoot back over to the bar, but Pristine is gone. I start to look around for her when my date taps my arm. “I wanna leave,” she demands. “I have a friend who’s having an actual party, and I wanna go,” she adds. “I want a keg, not champagne.”
“Then go.” Where did Pristine go?
“Chaseyn,” she snaps. “You’re making me go alone?”
“I’m not leaving,” I state. Where is she? I spot her over in the far left corner next to a black speaker that is as tall as she is. She’s talking to her mother, but this time doesn’t look any friendlier than earlier. Her hands are flying, and her body is rigid. She’s fuming, and she has an empty glass of champagne in her right hand. How many has she had? I’ve seen her drink four just since I got here. I’ve only been here twenty minutes.
“Unbelievable.” She groans. “I’m leaving.”
“Bye,” I say, not even bothering to look at my date.
“Chaseyn!” She grabs my upper arm and yanks me backward. The champagne in my flute spills over the rim and onto my suit jacket.
“Fuck!” I hiss, and people start to look our way. “What do you want?” I growl, looking down into her brown eyes.
“I want to…”
“I’m not leaving,” I hiss. “You want to go? Go! I’m not stopping you.”
“You are such a dick,” she snaps before turning around and stomping off out the double doors.
I turn back around and then take a step toward the women, but a piercing squeak sounds through the speakers, making everyone cover their ears.
“Sorry,” Mrs. Inger says into a microphone at the front of the ballroom. She steps onto a makeshift stage, and a man beside her bends down to mess with the dials on a black stereo. Once done, he stands and nods at her.
“Just a technical difficulty,” she says with a smile, and everyone laughs. “I want to welcome all of you to the benefit tonight. In a short while, we are going to auction off artwork that Denver’s finest art gallery has offered us for the occasion. But first, I would like to offer you guys a little wine tasting. We are going to be releasing a new wine this coming year at the winery and want you all to be the first to experience it,” she says proudly.
All of a sudden, the double doors to the ballroom open and ten new waiters walk in with trays holding wine glasses filled with white wine. She looks over at the corner, and I see Pristine downing a new flute of champagne. “Pristine,” she calls into the microphone. “Please come up here.” Her voice has changed as she watches her daughter down the champagne as if she’s at a frat party.
“Would you like a glass, sir?” one of the waiters asks, approaching me.
“Please,” I say, taking one from the trays. “Thank you.” I take a sip, and the cool wine feels like silk on my tongue. Smooth and rich. Just like the woman I can’t keep my eyes off of.
Pristine takes the mic and turns to face the crowd. She giggles as she lifts it to her lips, and I smile. She’s drunk. This party is about to get interesting. Maybe she’ll break out into karaoke.
“My mother sure knows how to throw a party, right?” she asks with more laughter. We all laugh with her while her mother stands rigid beside her. She’s probably ready to take the microphone from her before she goes off the deep end in front of everyone. “I want to thank all of you who are in attendance tonight.” Even her slurred words are cute.
“On behalf of our family, I want to thank all of those who are going to be bidding on the art. We have some very lovely pieces.” She pauses as a slow smile spreads across her face. “And unlike other benefits, your donations will go to the foundations, one hundred percent.”
“Pristine,” her mother says harshly.
“Just making sure they know our intentions, Mother,” she says into the microphone, and I watch her father cover his mouth with a laugh.
“I hope you have all enjoyed your night so far. Grab the nearest waiter and have a glass of wine.” Her face grows serious for a moment, and the look of pure hatred seeps into her beautiful features. Her eyes go to the back of the room, but I can’t see who she’s looking at from where I stand because too many people are in the way. Her jaw tightens. “I created this wine with an event in mind to be celebrated.” With that, she hands the microphone to her mother before she storms off the stage. Her sister with the purple hair tries to stop her, but Pristine keeps walking right past her. Then out the double doors.
Everyone slowly claps as they watch her exit, all wondering the same thing as myself: What the hell was that?
Her mother just stands there and watches her leave and then adds into the microphone, “The bidding will start in five minutes.” She turns the microphone off, and then the soft music starts to play again.
Her sister walks by me, and I reach out to grab her. “Char.” Wasn’t that what they called her?
She looks up at me with confusion in her green eyes and big pouty lips. “Who are you?”
I forgot she hasn’t met me. “I’m Chaseyn. Your older sister, Hillary, is going to marry my brother.”
“Oh,” she says in surprise. She crosses her arms over her chest. “So you’re the one who showed up late to breakfast yesterday because you were too busy getting laid.”
“Was it that obvious?” I ask, clearing my throat. I feel a little uncomfortable with Pristine’s little sister mentioning sex. How old is she anyway? She looks no older than sixteen.
“It was to Pristine.”
I wave a hand in the air. “Speaking of Pristine, what’s wrong with her?”
Her face falls and so do her shoulders “She’s upset.”
“I get that. But why?”
She bites her bottom lip as she looks at the double doors that are now shut. “I’m not sure I should tell you.”
I run a hand down my face. “Well, where was she going? Can you tell me that?”
“She’s leaving.”
“The party?” I ask to clarify.
“The house.”
I look up to see everyone laughing and carrying on conversations. No one seems worried about what was wrong with her or where she was going. Her parents are having a heated discussion over by the speaker, and that Malcolm guy is making out with his wife over by the bar now.
“When my brother shows up, tell him I left.” Then I turn around and walk toward the big double doors.
Chapter Five
Pristine
I refuse to cry and give that bastard or my mother that much satisfaction. I storm out the front doors of my parents’ house, and a man in a three-piece black suit greets me. “Ms. Inger. What are you doing outside, ma’am? It’s cold.”
I don’t feel it. That’s what alcohol and rage will do to you. It’s like a personal numbing agent.“I’m leaving.”
“Ms.?”
“I need my driver,” I say, cussing myself. I left my cell and my purse back in the house.
He nods and quickly pulls out a cell from his suit pocket. He makes a quick call and then hangs up.
“He’s on his way, ma’am.”
“Thanks,” I say as I start my descent down the stairs. I make it to the second to last step when I overstep it and start to fall. You know how your heart literally stops for a second and you have that moment of panic.
“Whoa.” Two hands snake around my waist and picks me up before placing me on the concrete.
I grip the person like a vise as I try to will my heart to beat again when I look up at a set of blue eyes. “Chaseyn.” I breathe. “What are you doing?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer. Just loosens his grip around my waist and pulls me into his side. I look up to see my limo pull into the circle drive just as we reach the pebbled rock driveway. He opens the back door for me, and I fall in as ladylike as I can. I slide against the cold leather as Chaseyn jumps in behind me.
“Where we going?” he asks. “Just wanting to go for a ride or are we going somewhere in particular?”
I look him up and down as he smiles at me. I think of the man who broke my heart back in my parents’ house, and I decide that even though my mind is swimming in a pool of alcohol, it’s not enough. I wanna drown in it.
“A club,” I state.
He nods. “Which one, Pris?”
“I just need alcohol.”
I suggest a club over thirty minutes away from where we are now. One that I frequently visit.
The limo pulls out of the circle drive, and she hangs her head as she runs her hands down her dress. “Shit! I should have changed.”
“You look great.”
She looks up at me through her long dark lashes and sighs. “Exactly.” She pats down her chest, stomach, and thighs, and then looks at me again. “Do you have any scissors?”
Just how drunk is she? “Uh? Scissors? No,” I say shaking my head. “Why would I have scissors on me?” I ask with a laugh.
