by Smoke, Lucy
“Come on,” he said, taking my hand once more. “We’ve gotta catch up before they start boarding.”
“I thought we had another thirty minutes?” I protested as Bellamy took off at a fast-clip.
“A lot of flights board well before the plane is set to take off. If you’re on time for a plane, then you’re late,” he said.
I didn’t quite understand it, but he was right because as soon as we arrived at Gate 6B, Knix, Marv, and Texas were already in line. “Hurry,” Bellamy said, pushing me towards the others. “You’re sitting next to Knix.” I moved around the others in line, avoiding some scathing glares and arrived next to the rest of the guys. Marv looked back and nudged Texas. Silently, the both of them moved out of line and back to where Bellamy was.
“Why’d they move?” I asked.
“They’re in economy,” Knix explained. “You and I are in first class. I doubt anyone will check our tickets, but if someone happens to see, it wouldn’t make sense for either of us to have arrived in economy.”
“Oh…” I said. “I thought Marv was the rich one? Shouldn’t he be in first class too?”
“Marv isn’t…” A peculiar expression moved across Knix’s face. “Marv’s acting as backup for this job,” he finally finished.
I tilted my head and examined him. “You don’t want him to get too involved, do you?” I asked. “Because he’s close with the families.”
Knix smirked down at me before he settled his giant palm on my head. “Don’t let anyone tell you that you’re not a genius, Little Bit.”
My insides swelled with pride. It seemed that what had happened at the club with Erika had been forgotten. She had even texted me the next morning and promised that it wouldn’t happen again. I wasn’t sure how long that promise would last, but at least she realized that the night hadn’t been as fun as she had expressly thought it would be with alcohol.
“Wait,” I said as we stepped forward in line, “you didn’t answer my other question. I thought Marv was the rich one? Why am I going as your cousin and not his?”
Knix grimaced but answered. “I’m not a millionaire,” he admitted, “but I’m also not impoverished either, Little Bit. My mother – as much as we’re estranged – does have a blue-blooded background and my father, though he was a blue-collar laborer for most of his life, didn’t have to work as hard as he did. His family, too, was well off. Fishing boats and cruisers mostly.”
“Wow.” I hadn’t known that about him. We stepped up again and it was our turn to hand over our tickets. How Texas had managed to order my tickets under my alias, I wouldn’t ask, but as I took back my card and the fake ID they had given me that morning, I started to realize just how real this was. I was an Iris girl now. Going on real jobs, doing the kind of good I had wanted to be doing when I first joined. I only hoped I could live up to the guys’ expectations of me.
We entered the airplane through a long-carpeted hallway. It grew louder as we neared the end and stepped from the hallway directly into the plane where stewardesses gestured Knix and I to our comfy leather seats. It was just him and me and as it was my first time on a plane, he let me have the window seat. I kept my eyes glued to the window as others began to board. Even when the flight attendants did what I was told was a purely routine safety spiel, I couldn’t help but let my gaze wander back to the window.
When the plane began to taxi down the runway, my heart leapt in my throat and I sucked in a breath, gripping the arm rest until my knuckles turned white. A warm palm slid over my hand and pulled my fingers from the edge of the armrest. Knix tucked my hand in his, letting my frozen fingers warm under his. I relaxed as the plane tipped back and we rose into the sky – the bright, blue, white-fluffy-cloud-filled sky. It was the most wondrous thing I had ever seen and the most daunting. Briefly, I hoped that I would get the chance to travel with the guys again. I knew that, had I stayed at Alex’s Diner and let myself graduate as I normally would have, had I made a different decision a month ago, none of this would have been possible.
I turned my head and looked at Knix. Though he was holding my hand casually, he was absorbed in one of the magazines provided in the pocket in front of each of our seats. I wouldn’t be here with him right now, I knew, if I had made a different decision. I wanted to be thankful every day that I had taken this risk. I knew, if given the chance, I would make it again.
Chapter 12
I gripped the file in my cold hands, sucking in air as fast as I could as Bellamy pulled up to the giant, gray stone villa. It resembled an old-world mansion – like someone had plucked it out of a catalog, or better yet a country hillside somewhere in England. The sleek, dark sedan that Knix had rented from the Buffalo airport passed under the iron-gated stone archway. The crisp, summer grass in the middle of the circular driveway sparkled with health and vitality.
I hadn't even stepped foot out of the car and already I was feeling rather inadequate. I felt, for sure, they would know me for a phony the moment I walked through the elegant front doors. Bellamy had changed from his airport clothes – jeans and a t-shirt – into a clean-cut, button down and a pair of neat gray trousers. I glanced down at my strappy heels with a sigh. I already missed my flip-flops.
"Ready, Harley?" Bellamy asked, using my pseudonym, as he slid the car into park.
"As ready as I'll ever be," I replied.
“You’ll be fine,” Bellamy said quietly. “Just remember the advice Knix gave you and know that we can pull you out at any time. Keep your phone close. Keep in contact. We’ll be barely a few miles away.”
I nodded, gripping the file closer and sliding it into the purse that matched my luggage.
"Memorize it if you can," Knix had told me on the plane. "But focus on the story you're going to be telling more. The story isn't just the words that come out of your mouth. It's how you present yourself, how you speak, what you wear."
If anything, I could say that I definitely presented the story I was trying to project, the young, wealthy daughter of an upper-class Charleston family. At least, through my appearance. Marv had chosen my clothes and props with care. Bellamy got out and I waited for him to open the door for me like I was expected to. As I stepped out in my heels, the ornate, double front doors of the villa opened. An older gentleman in a pristine suit stepped out followed by two middle-aged women in refined but simple black dresses. Bellamy went to the trunk and unloaded my luggage, handing it off to one of the women who disappeared into the villa with it.
"Miss Hampton, is it?" the older man approached me with a hand extended. I took it. "My name is Earl Wallace. I am Ms. Enders' personal assistant and I help her in the management and orchestration of the etiquette courses. We're so very glad you could make it."
"I'm sorry for being late," I said with a reserved smile that Knix had coached me on. I needed to be soft-spoken, quiet, and reserved. It wouldn't make sense for me to be loud and boisterous if no one had heard of me or met me before. I thought for sure there were people in these girls' "circles", as Knix had put it, that they hadn't heard of or met before. But both he and Marv assured me that money always knew money, whatever that meant.
"It's quite alright, miss," Mr. Wallace replied. "We were informed of the delay. It couldn't be helped. Margarie here," he turned to the remaining woman and she stepped forward, "would be delighted to show you to your room. There will be a tea party at 3 pm that all ladies are required to attend. Until then, you may have leisure time to yourselves. Etiquette activities will start tomorrow morning."
"Thank you, Mr. Wallace." I followed Margarie into the villa.
No matter how badly I wanted to turn around and take one last look at Bellamy, I didn't. I wouldn't risk it. We were here for a reason and with the girl from the club's image in my mind, I knew it was a very serious reason.
The inside of the mansion was just as opulent as the outside. While the stone walls of the villa had been aged with time, they had been clean. Inside, the floor had been shined to within an inch of its
life. Windows let in natural light above the front doors. The sun's rays struck the crystal chandelier above and refracted a thousand glorious rainbow shapes around the room. Margarie walked through without batting an eyelash as if it was nothing to be impressed by. I tried to contain my awe and follow her lead.
We strode towards a set of rich, dark mahogany stairs. Large paintings hung on the walls as we ascended them to the second floor. From somewhere in the house, I could hear the sound of people talking. Young female voices drifted through the hallways, getting progressively louder as we approached what I suspected was the camp attendee's wing of the villa. Several young girls popped their heads out of various rooms as Margarie and I strode by. She stopped at the end of the hallway and opened a door that revealed an exquisite gold themed bedroom. It took everything I had not to let my jaw drop.
"We apologize if the room is a bit small," Margarie said in a quiet, but proper tone. "This was our last room available."
"It's fine," I assured her. More than fine, the room was...a freaking palace. The high arched ceilings, the settee on the end of a king-sized bed. I stepped further into the room, noticing that my luggage had already been delivered and left open on my bed. The clothes had been removed though. I glanced around and noticed tall mirrored doors. I went over to them and slid them open, revealing a short hallway with suede seats and my clothes hung on a rolling rack.
Keeping my gaze composed, I turned back to Margarie. "Where will the tea party be?" I asked.
"It'll be in the lounge, miss," she replied. "Is there anything more I can do for you?"
"No, thank you," I said. "You may leave now. I need to freshen up. It was a long flight and an even longer drive." It had been just over a three-hour flight to Buffalo, New York and a drive that had seemed to take longer because of all of the information I had gone over. We were nearly over the border into Canada, and had merely driven completely around Lake Ontario. I wondered, briefly, if there had been a closer airport and thought, perhaps Knix had been planning it like that for a reason.
Whatever that reason, I couldn't even consider it right now, I was too absorbed in how extravagant my temporary bedroom was. If this was one of their "smaller" rooms, I couldn't imagine what their other rooms must look like.
I sat on the bed and closed my suitcase, setting it on the floor beside the nightstand. Even the nightstand, I realized, had a marble surface. If I turned, I could see out the window behind the bed's headboard. Lush green gardens circled the side of the villa. I watched as several girls in day dresses just like mine walked together through the flowers and over the cobblestone paths. One of them paused and looked up at my window. I wasn't sure if she could see me, but when another girl came along and nudged her shoulder, she turned away without a second glance. I wondered where they were going and glanced at the clock only to realize I only had thirty minutes before the tea party would begin. They were likely already heading that way. But...hadn't Margarie said it would be held in the lounge?
I sighed and quickly closed the mirrored doors to the closet before heading into the ensuite bathroom. I stopped in the doorway and shook my head. It was large enough to be another bedroom with both a large jacuzzi tub and a separate glass shower. I washed my hands and smoothed my makeup back into place. I hardly recognized myself. My hair had been put up in an elegant twist – how Marv knew how to do hair was still a mystery – and my shift dress had been complimented by the added purse. I wondered if I needed to bring it downstairs with me.
Once in the bedroom again, I debated for several moments on whether or not it would be proper to carry a purse to a tea party. Finally deciding against it, I slipped my phone out of its case to make it less bulky and tucked it into my bra, though I doubted anything terrible would happen out in the open. I made my way into the hallway where a few girls had already gathered to walk down together. The tallest was a willowy girl in a tightly fitted, mustard yellow pencil dress.
"Hi there, you must be Harley Hampton," she said as she approached.
I looked up at her with a smile. "I am," I said. "And you are?"
She quirked an eyebrow at me curiously before holding out her hand. "Delilah Ernest, my father is Bernard Ernest – the fashion designer." She smiled before releasing my hand and looked down at her dress. "Though I'm sure you can tell. I always wear the best." I didn't have the heart to tell her my own thoughts on anything resembling a condiment, so all I did was give her another of Harley's signature small smiles.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," I said politely.
"We're about to head down to the lounge," she said. "Would you like to join us?" She gestured towards the two other girls waiting just a few feet away.
"I would be honored." Together, Delilah and her friends – Natalia and Isador Sevilla, who I learned were sisters related to some distant lesser nobility in Spain – showed me through what was referred to as the grand hall where the foyer morphed into a larger hallway on the ground floor. Several French inspired doors led off into various rooms: a ballroom, a library, and a study.
"Ladies," a petite woman in a midnight blue pantsuit greeted us at the door with a clipboard. Natalia and Isador, who I learned were more reserved and conservative than their friend, merely nodded and rushed by.
Delilah moved a bit slower. "Good afternoon, Ms. Enders," she said before breezing past.
I paused and took a second to look at the woman. So, this was the mysterious benefactor and instructor of Ms. Ender's Etiquette Camp for Refined Young Ladies. "I assume you must be our new arrival, Miss Hampton?" She tipped her head in my direction, a pen poised at her clipboard. I nodded. "Well, you'll be at table eleven. All tables have their numbers and name placements. You should be able to find your seat."
I examined her and as I did, noticed she did the same to me. Her flat, blue eyes roamed over my dress with a bland look and her mouth pinched in at the side as if she didn't appreciate what she saw. "Yes, ma'am," I replied. "Thank you."
I moved past her and through a room that equaled the rest of the villa in opulence and extravagance. It seemed that Ms. Enders' certainly liked her home with as much luxury as she could afford. I wondered how much the guys had to pay in order for me to attend this camp of hers.
I found my seat, as she had directed, at the back of the room, towards the far windows that overlooked the same gardens as my bedroom. The table was already mostly filled. The Sevilla sisters were there, though it looked like Delilah had been seated at a table closer to the front, along with a mousy girl with her nose buried in a book. I smirked when I recognized it was a new best seller.
I took my seat. Just as I was about to say something, there was a ringing noise from the front of the room. I watched as Ms. Enders stepped up alongside her personal assistant, Mr. Wallace. Together, they made a striking pair. Though it was obvious that Mr. Wallace was older, Ms. Enders' strait-laced persona complimented his. I glanced at the remaining empty seat at the table curiously, but now was not the time to ask.
Ms. Enders spoke. “Good afternoon, ladies. First of all, I would like to remind everyone that tomorrow’s lesson will begin in the ballroom and not in the garden as per usual. I have requested a few gentlemen stop by with the instructor as we go through what is expected when dancing at the functions I will be preparing you for.”
As she continued on, I watched the surrounding faces reflect two reactions: one, bored as hell and two, enraptured by the idea of social gatherings and society functions. I started to wonder if someone had dropped me a couple hundred years in the past. Ms. Enders spoke of her lessons as though they were the key to a perfect life. She stressed the importance of her lessons – learning how to dance, how to make polite conversation, which utensils to use at which time for which meal. I glanced down at my place setting at the table, trying not to show my panic.
One of the Sevilla sisters – Natalia – noticed. She leaned over. “Don’t worry,” she whispered in her perfect English. “Most of the American girls here aren’t familiar w
ith place ware. Ms. Enders is sure to go over that.”
I nodded gratefully, but inside I was still confused. Why did any of this stuff matter? I turned back towards Ms. Enders and continued to give the illusion that I was paying attention. I was distracted, however, when the doors opened again and Margarie – the woman who had shown me to my room – and the other woman who had taken my luggage appeared, leading several other women dressed in much the same clothing. There were thirteen of them total, and each carried heavy trays of antique silver tea kettles and their matching milk and sugar holders. Not one of them hesitated as they strode through the room with their burdens. The one who came to our table was a brown skinned woman with a soft and clear complexion. She set the tray down in the center of the table before turning and stepping back against the far wall with the rest of the women.
“Now,” Ms. Enders called brightly, “let us begin.”
* * *
“That was quite possibly the most painful lesson I’ve ever had,” I couldn’t help but say as Natalia, Isador, and Delilah moved out into the hall with me.
Delilah laughed, the sound beautiful and tinkling. "Oh, you haven't seen anything yet," she promised.
I grimaced. I hadn't seen anything yet, she was right, but I could just imagine and that was bad enough.
"No," Delilah said when she caught my expression, "trust me, as unlikely as it sounds, she can and will get worse."
"You sound like you're talking from experience," I said curiously.
Natalia and Isador giggled as Delilah shrugged. "I've been here a couple of times. My mom's one of Ms. Enders' friends. She's been sending me and my sisters here for ages. Lucky for them, they're all married now or overseas or working. I'm all on my own now."
"You're not on your own," Natalia spoke up, reaching for Delilah's arm. "We're here with you."
Delilah shot her and her sister a smile. "Thank you." She said, straightening her shoulders. "But soon it won't matter. This is my last year at these stupid camps."
