While the fair-skinned, pencil thin cheerleader next to Celeste snickered, I noticed the thick gold bangles on Celeste’s wrists. Of course hers were expensive and purely to display her wealth. I wanted to rail at her…to blame her for what happened to me, but as far as I knew Celeste didn’t know what Jake did to me at Shelley’s party. No one did, other than the unknown asshole who participated with Jake.
I still had no clue who that was. But God forbid Jake’s goddess would discover what a true bastard he could be. My fingers twitch around the edges of the book. Telling her wouldn’t do any good; she has never given him the time of day. For all I know, she might be twisted enough to find what he did to me amusing. All I can think about is going home and sliding something sharp along the inside of my wrist. With the pain, blissful release always follows. Something other than constant numbness is a welcome experience.
“So, would you like to hear about the latest Paris fashions?”
Hearing “Paris” pulled me out of my dark thoughts. I blinked at her and shook my head. “I’ll just faux pas my way to a fashion sense.”
Flipping her long hair over her shoulder, Celeste sniffed her irritation, obviously unused to someone rebuffing her. “Suit yourself. I was only trying to help.”
As she walked away, I mumbled, “Your help is the last thing I’ll ever need.”
Celeste snapping her fingers in front of me yanks me back to the present. “Are you living in your glamorous world right this second?” she says, a slight smirk on her lips.
“Nah, I’m just slumming it here in the Hamptons,” I deadpan. What the hell does she want? I haven’t spoken to her since high school.
A half dozen thin gold bangles clink against a dainty jeweled aquamarine bracelet as she hands me the magazine. “You always were a smartass.”
I blink in surprise. When did she start cursing?
Before I can speak, the waitress, who’s wearing retro horn-rimmed glasses and a small scarf tie around her high ponytail, stops by our table. “Would you like to order a coff—”
When she cuts herself off, her gaze pinging between us, Celeste smiles, clearly amused. “I’ll have a decaf latte.”
I shake my head while the girl jots down Celeste’s order on a notepad without taking her gaze from us. I’m wearing jeans, a navy zip-up sweat jacket, and no makeup. I’ve also been traipsing around taking pictures in the morning mist, so my hair has to be a mess of waves. I seriously doubt we look that much alike right now.
As the waitress walks away, I notice the girl’s saddle shoes and rolled up jeans. Is it retro day at the café or is rockabilly making a comeback here in this pocket of the Hamptons?
“So you’re probably wondering why I’m here. ” Celeste cuts into my attempt to ignore her presence.
“The thought crossed my mind,” I say in a dry tone as I watch her absently fiddle with the gold charms on her delicate necklace. A golden lock, a key, and a diamond encrusted heart. Real diamonds. How upper-crust cliché.
She ignores my crisp comment and tilts her head, sliding her gaze over my face. “I’ve seen you taking pictures the last few days while I was in town shopping. You’ve stopped in here several times.”
Note to self: no more habitual anything. It makes you too easy to find. “And now I’m entertaining the notion that you’re stalking me.” I hold Celeste’s gaze, my own expression carefully schooled as I wait for her to reveal her agenda.
Taking a deep breath, she shrugs. “What? No, how’s it going, Celeste? Or, what have you been up to since high school?”
“How’s it going, Celeste?” I sound bored, even though I want to snap back, “Did you ask me?”
The waitress interrupts, dropping off Celeste’s latte. Blowing on her coffee to cool it, Celeste looks at me and sighs. “You really don’t like me, do you?”
“What gave me away?” I close my magazine and stack it on top of the other before slipping them both into my bag.
When I move to pick up my camera, Celeste puts a hand on my arm. “I’d like you to stay.”
“We don’t have anything to talk about.” Pulling free of her hold, I set my camera in the bag.
Just as I heft the bag’s strap onto my shoulder, she says in a sincere tone, “I need your help, Cass.”
Shock turns my stomach upside down, but ramping tension quickly rights it. “What makes you think I would want to help you?”
Celeste folds her hands around the bottom of her cup. Lowering her voice, she leans forward. “Because you owe me.”
Fury flashes and I quickly stand. “I don’t owe you jack—”
“Sit down, Cass,” Celeste cuts in, her casual tone suddenly serious. “You went to the Blakes’ party as me that night.”
“What party?” Not that I’m admitting anything, but I sink back into the chair out of curiosity. The tension in her face surprises me. I never did check on-line to see if there had been any fallout for Celeste.
Celeste’s brown gaze turns laser sharp. “Look, I kept my mouth shut and took the shit your presence at that party caused in my life, and now I’d like you to help me.”
Why did she keep her mouth shut? “The shit I caused in your life?” I speak slowly, trying my best not to scream at the girl. So maybe getting caught hooking up with a guy in the kitchen caused her some embarrassment and probably even a few party invitations for a while. Aw, that must’ve been such a tragedy to deal with in that ivory tower of hers.
Celeste shakes her head. “You have no idea. In return for my silence back then, I’m asking you to do me a favor.”
My gaze narrows. “Are you trying to blackmail me?”
Her face flushes. “I wasn’t exactly trying to—”
Snorting, I stand and put my hand on the table, leaning close. “A bit of advice, if you’re going to blackmail someone, make sure it’s for something they give a damn about.”
Before she can reply, I walk out.
I’ve just unlocked my car door when Celeste says from behind me. “I’m sorry that I didn’t phrase my request very well. I need you to be me, Cass. Just for a day.”
Now she wants me to be her? I might be curious, but I’m not stupid. I open my car door.
“Please, Cass.” Celeste reaches around me and pushes the door shut. “I really need your help. Do you think I would be here if I had any other choice?”
The desperation in her voice makes me pause. I’ve never known Celeste to beg for anything. I glance over my shoulder and am surprised at the dark circles under her eyes that her makeup can’t hide in outside light.
“Why do you want me to impersonate you?”
Folding her hands together, Celeste says, “I don’t know if you’ve been keeping up with politics, but my father’s ramping up for his campaign run in the fall. This weekend, he’s hosting a huge party at our house in Westchester to help him garner even more supporters. It’s his time to shine and show off his family.”
I knew her father had been appointed Senator last year when the previous Senator died of a sudden heart attack. A man with many varied holdings and businesses, prior to his appointment, Gregory Carver had contributed heavily to several political campaigns in previous years, garnering him loads of respect in the right circles. According to the news, he’d been well received as an appointee in the Senate, and now he’s planning to run on his own merit.
I hold Celeste’s gaze for a beat. “Sounds important. You really need to be there.”
She nods her agreement. “That’s the whole point. I have to be there for my dad, but I’ve waited weeks for this appointment. I can’t miss it.”
I’m already shaking my head. “It’s one thing to fool partiers where everyone’s half drunk and pretending to be someone else in masks and costumes, but there’s no way—”
“Do you really think a political function is any different?” she cuts in with a laugh, her eyes lighting up for the first time. Sobering, she continues, “Seriously, it’ll be fine, Cass. All you have to do is nod, shake ha
nds, and say, ‘It’s nice to meet you’, for an evening. That’s it. When the event is over, you can say you’re running an errand and we’ll meet up somewhere and I’ll take my car back.”
Not that I’m really entertaining this, but I frown at her last comment. “Why would I need your car?”
“Oh,” she waves like it’s no big deal. “It’ll be best if you get dressed for the evening in my room there at the estate, just like I would.”
“I don’t understand why you aren’t in an apartment,” I say, genuinely perplexed that she still lives at home.
“My father depends on me for a lot of hosting stuff, since my mom tires quickly. It’s just easier for him if I live at home.”
The idea of being in her personal space sends a shiver of “hell no” down my spine.
“Uh uh,” I say, shaking my head. “Sorry, I can’t do it.” I quickly turn back to my car and open the door.
Just as I slide into my seat, she leans on my car door and says, “Not even to help your dad?”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, my gaze narrowing.
Celeste smiles. “I know your dad has been trying to get the zoning approval for his development expansion for a while. I might be able to help smooth the way for him.”
My ears buzz with the jump in my heart rate. My father getting the city’s approval would mean more than Celeste could ever know. It took me a couple years after Sophie’s death to convince my dad to continue forward with his plans to expand his business.
Even though I was just as devastated to wake up the morning after my horrible experience with Jake to discover my sister had died, I knew why she’d taken a whole bottle of sleeping pills at once. Her cryptic comments the night before finally made sense. She didn’t want her illness to ruin our family financially when her prognosis of surviving was so low. It took me a year to come to terms with her decision to leave us, and another ten months to help my father turn his guilt over her death into a mission to succeed no matter what.
Once my father got moving on his plans again, he went after the approval with all he had, but he kept hitting roadblocks with the zoning commission. He never gave up. Every year he tweaked his plan and every year he sought approval, only to be turned down. It got to the point, I dreaded when the opportunity rolled around for him each year. I always called that day, no matter where I was in the world. I knew exactly where he’d be—sitting in his office chair, proposal paperwork in the trash, a framed picture of Sophie in one hand, and a highball glass of Scotch in the other.
“Can you really help him get approved?”
Celeste lifts her shoulders. “I can’t guarantee approval, but I can try.”
Celeste might suck at blackmail, but she definitely knows how to dangle a carrot. “I see you’re becoming a politician just like your father,” I say, eyeing her skeptically.
Pressing her lips together, determination settles in her expression. “I’m familiar with what he’s been trying to get approved. I will draft my support for him tonight. Tell Mr. Rockwell to set up an appointment to pitch his proposal next week if he wishes. Oh, and don’t worry about the party, you won’t be facing a total group of strangers at this event. Calder Blake will be there.”
Just when I think things can’t possibly get any worse than my nemesis dangling hope for my father in exchange for her help, she expects me to spend the evening—as her—with the only guy I’ve ever wanted?
Fuck my life.
“Calder?” I say casually, my heart racing at the mere mention of his name.
Celeste straightens and props her arm on the top of the car door. “Yeah, I guess I have you to thank for introducing me to him…well, in a roundabout sort of way.”
And now I know why I never heard from Calder. If he contacted the real Celeste, then that means he must’ve figured out I was an imposter. Despite the heaviness that settles on my chest, I keep my tone light. “So you two have become friends?” Please don’t tell me you’re sleeping with him. Please. Just. Don’t.
Celeste smiles. “You know…of the few parties Calder and I have attended together, I never really saw him before. But when he stopped by my house to apologize for losing my contact information, we talked and just clicked. We had lunch together after that, and then…” she pauses and exhales a sigh. “He’s delicious. I just want to bite that man every time I see him.”
Shit…he lost my email? It’s possible. Phones crash, get lost, stolen. And of course Celeste didn’t bother to tell him she wasn’t the one he was with that night. He has no idea he’s dating a different person. I’ll bet she orgasms with him all the time. Ugh, stop thinking about them having sex. The idea makes me nauseous. Turning my gaze straight ahead, I grip the steering wheel and try to sound as disinterested as possible. “How great for you.”
“It will be once I get this appointment taken care of.”
What could possibly be so important that it can’t wait a few days? Actually, the answer isn’t my concern. “Well, it seems you’re none-the-worse for my part in your past, especially now that you’ve got a new man in your life because of it.”
Celeste nods. “Calder’s the only good thing to walk into my life lately. And seeing how he had his face in your crotch at the party, I’m pretty sure you’ll have no problem hosting him (platonically, of course) when he comes to the event on Saturday night to meet my father.”
The fact she’s reminding me not to screw her boyfriend while acting like what happened between Calder and me was just a trashy tryst, makes me grind my back teeth. Blinking back the sudden moisture in my eyes, I exhale an unsteady breath. The brief encounter I had with Calder meant everything to me. It meant I wasn’t a fucked-up, dispassionate freak. He showed me that buried somewhere inside me, I have the capacity to be a warm, involved lover. Too bad it hasn’t happened with anyone else since. He might be my solution, but apparently Celeste is his.
There’s no guarantee she’ll actually be able to help my dad, but there’s a one-hundred-percent guarantee that the thought of Celeste and Calder together will torture me all night long. There is only so much I can take, and I’ve just reached my limit.
“Congrats all the way around, Celeste. Good luck with life and all.”
I lean over to tug the door closed, my action forcing Celeste back so she doesn’t get crushed. I ignore her protests, completely tuning her out, but when my gaze lands on the tattooed word running along the inside of my outstretched forearm, I freeze.
Never.
It’s in a script font with trailing ends before and after the word. I’d gotten it to remind me never to give in to my cravings to cut again, and to never give up on me.
But isn’t that what I’m doing by saying ‘no?’ Am I really going to pass up the one and only chance I might get to tell Calder the truth?
Meeting Celeste’s panicked gaze, I blow out a breath “Okay, I’ll help you.”
“Really?” Her whole face lights up and she grabs my arm. “Thank you so much, Cass. Tell your father to make that appointment.” Releasing me, she smiles and clasps her hands excitedly. “Can you meet me here on Friday morning at nine? I’ll give you all the details you’ll need to know: pictures of family, employees, names, house layout, etc. Then we’ll set a time and place for you to pick up my car.”
Memorizing faces, who’s who and how I should know them, and an entire estate’s layout twenty-four hours before the event sounds complicated. There are so many ways I can trip myself up. I take a deep breath. Helping your dad and also owning up to the past with Calder will be worth it, Cass. Whether Calder forgives me or not remains to be seen, but at least I’ll have given it my best shot. “I can meet you on Friday,” I say, giving a firm nod.
“Great. I’ll see you then.” Celeste starts to walk away, but then quickly turns back. “Oh, one more thing. I’ve asked Calder to consider becoming my personal guard. I think he needs a little more convincing. He insisted on meeting my father, so this event is the perfect time for that. My father
’s a tough sell on the idea, so it’ll help loads if you talk with him about Calder before the event to prepare him to meet with Calder. I think once Father meets him, he’ll agree. Calder’s SEAL training certainly speaks for itself.”
SEAL? He’s a freaking Navy SEAL? The fact I don’t know this says just how little I really know about Calder. Not that he was forthcoming with the information that night at the party, but I can’t believe Talia didn’t mention it. Then again, I haven’t talked to her about Calder, except for when she told me he might try to get in touch, and even then I acted laidback about it. My wandering thoughts suddenly stall as the implication of Celeste having a security person finally sinks in. “You need a bodyguard?”
“All the Carvers have a personal guard,” Celeste says, shrugging. “But I’ll admit to feeling as if someone’s been following me for a while. That’s why I think a new security person could be a good thing. Maybe a fresh set of eyes won’t gloss over my daily life surroundings. My current guard sucks. Anyway, back to the event. I can’t stress this enough—you mustn’t tell anybody what you’re doing for me, and under no circumstances can you reveal to anyone in my circle who you really are, including Calder, or this deal is off. Too much is riding on this. Do you understand?”
My heart sinks that her last directive rips away the deciding reason I agreed to this craziness in the first place. I had a glimmer of hope that Calder might possibly be able to forgive one deception, but now that I have to keep my mouth shut, that’ll be twice I’ve lied to him. If Celeste didn’t seem genuinely stressed about something, I’d think this was her ultimate revenge for me embarrassing her at that party.
I might be screwed, but for Celeste’s help with my dad, I have to keep my word. “I understand, Celeste. I’ll meet you here on Friday morning.”
As I drive away, I question my sanity. I mean…how desperate does it make me that even though Calder will never know me as Cass, I can’t wait to see him again? I refuse to think about it and instead dial my dad.
Gold Shimmer Page 8
