by R. G. Angel
“You were a worthy opponent” he commented, keeping his protective eyes on Theo.
“I tried my best.”
“He’s not very friendly usually, you know.” He threw me a quick questioning glance before turning toward Theo again. “It’s the first time I’ve seen him socialize like that with a stranger”.
“It’s an honor.” I replied genuinely touched by this. “What’s – what’s up with him?” It felt awkward to ask.
He sighed. “Williams syndrome. It’s a rare genetic disease, and it’s tough but he’s amazing.”
“Yes, he is.” I smiled, looking at him playing with his figurines. “But he is a precious gift no matter what.”
Mike looked at me again, with an added appraisal. “I’ve never seen you before. Are you new?”
I nodded, but I didn’t feel like sharing my life story. “Yes, I moved here quite recently.”
“We come here to play every Wednesday, weather permitting – what do you say about coming and playing with him? It will help him socialise, you’ll become a superhero expert and I'll get to see you again.”
I blushed at the light flirting. It was nice to have someone who actually liked me and not look at me as if I was Typhoid Mary.
“If you give me a ride home then yes.” Sure Esme, ask a complete stranger to give you a ride home. You would have been Ted Bundy’s ideal target!
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Uh yeah, sure, okay. I’ll have to take him back to the centre soon, anyway. Where do you live?”
“Mount Hill.”
This answer made his eyebrow shoot even higher. “Mount Hill?” he repeated, detailing my clothes more closely. He’d probably missed the Brentwood Crest on my red shirt with the jacket I was wearing. “You’re a Brentwood brat?” he asked, and the genuine surprise in his voice sounded more like a compliment than anything else. It was clear he didn’t hold Mount Hill residents and Brentwood Academy attendees in high esteem. Not that I could blame him really, I couldn’t say I was a fan either.
“Surprised?”
“Extremely,” he confirmed. “You don’t look or act like them.”
“Ah,” I nodded. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”
“As you should,” he confirmed. “You’re funny, down to earth, kind…”
“Again, thank you.”
“You’re welcome” he looked at his watch. “Come on buddy, we need to pack up – you’ve got to be back by five and we need to drive Esme home.”
Theo grinned, putting his stuff away. “I like Me-me.”
Mike chuckled. “Always knew he had good taste.”
I blushed again at the compliment and thanked life for the little break it just gave me. A break from my own dark thoughts, the journal my mom wrote and the impending doom.
The drive back to the house was not tense, with Theo in the back seat going over the list of superheroes and giving them grades based on their strengths and weaknesses.
When Mike stopped in front of the house of doom, I turned to look at Theo. “I’ll come next Wednesday, would you like that?”
He nodded. “Yes Me-me, Wednesday.”
“Thanks, see you,” I told Mike as I got out of the car.
“Hi Steve,” I greeted the security guard who still looked shocked that I acknowledged him in such a friendly manner when the rest of my family mostly treated him like a commodity.
“Miss Esmeralda,” he replied, opening the side gate for me. “I believe you’re late, some of the guests are already in attendance.”
I sighed with a shrug. “Thank you, Steve, it’s alright.” I replied with a smile I wanted to look real but I knew didn’t.
As I walked down the path to the house, my good humor faded, but at least I still had the journal to read and look forward to and that could not be taken away from me.
Chapter 7
As soon as I walked in, Sophia rushed toward me with a look of pure relief on her face. She was dressed impeccably in a floor-length silk red dress, with sky-high heels, I couldn't understand how she managed to walk so fast and competently in those – she seriously defied gravity.
“Oh God, Esmeralda, where were you?” she whispered with urgency grabbing my hand and pulling me up the stairs. “You were expected home almost two hours ago, your father is livid. There-” She glanced back at me. “There’ll be consequences.”
I sighed. “Everything I do has consequences in this house.” I muttered as Sophia pulled me into my bedroom. “Damned if I do, damned if I don't, so excuse me if I do.”
She sighed, removing my clothes with precision as if I was an inanimate mannequin and I was just too emotionally exhausted to fight her.
“This is not the way to go, Esmeralda, I'm here to help you, to watch your back and this is not the way to do things.”
I rolled my eyes as she ordered me to lift my leg as she helped me into a dress. As she turned me around to button the back, I had a good look at the dress in the mirror. It was a lace-detail cream chiffon, halter neck maxi dress with lavender beads and lace embellishments on the neck and waist. It looked beautiful, innocent, pure – everything my father wanted me to represent, and it looked particularly nice with my heavy golden-brown hair and golden skin which was still present from my second summer job working at the local pool.
Sophia met my eyes in the mirror and gave me a sad smile. “You look stunning Esmeralda, we won’t even need to put much make-up on you.” She pulled my hair up, still assessing me in the mirror. “We're going to put your hair up in a messy bun okay? You’ve got such a graceful neck; we need to show it.”
I gave her a smile too because no matter why she made the choices she made, she was still stuck in this life, she was still somebody who cared and other than Taylor she was probably the only person I could trust around here.
She gestured me toward the vanity set.
“It’s going to be alright,” she affirmed after I sat and she started to work on my hair. “Be on your best behaviour, be the daughter your father wants you to be, and he will be more lenient.”
“Okay.”
She rested her hand on my shoulders and squeezed, in an attempt to comfort. “Turn around, I’ll just put on a little make-up.”
When I turned and met her eyes, I couldn't help but feel a wave of gratitude for having her in this house.
“I’ll talk to him,” She added as she applied some blusher on my cheeks. “I know it’s not your fault you’re late.”
I shook my head. I knew my dad didn’t really care about other people’s opinions and his wife even less. He barely acknowledged her at home and didn’t see her as much more than an asset he acquired. Plus, my father saw only what he wanted to see – Archie’s animosity toward me was as clear as day – it was obvious he wanted to make me suffer, and whilst Sophia never said so out loud, I knew she’d figured it out. She knew that my lateness was due to one of Archie’s tricks.
“Don’t bother,” I told her once she’d finished doing my lips. “It won’t serve either of us. I can take it.” I added, and I was pleased with how certain I sounded.
She looked at me for a couple of seconds before sighing in defeat and retrieving the small lavender heels from my closet. “You’re so much stronger than I am, Esmeralda – don’t let them quench that fire, just hide it. Don’t make that mistake,” she added, her voice so soft I wasn’t sure the comment was really meant for me.
She snuck me into the reception hall through a side door, “so your father can’t really figure out how late you are” she breathed before leaving me alone to join his side, which I assume was what a dutiful wife had to do.
I looked around for a familiar face, anyone who I’d met before would do. My eyes locked with someone I would have rather avoided, one of the three Brentwood Kings – Antoine Saint-Vincent.
He grinned, raising his glass before prowling toward me, like a predator locking in on his prey.
Where my brother was all darkness and brute force and Caleb all light and be
autiful in a very masculine sort of way, Antoine was the perfect contrast, his traits were perfect and refined, his features so thin and delicate he looked almost feminine. He was tall but thin, willowy, with light chestnut hair and striking emerald eyes. He was absolutely mesmerizing in a very eerie way.
“It’s very good to finally make your acquaintance, dear Esmeralda.” He took my hand and brushed his lips against my knuckles. “Plus belle que la plus sauvage des roses, si belle que j’affronterais toutes les ronces juste pour toucher ton visage somptueux.”
His perfect French almost made me melt. Him being single was a mystery to me. “What did you say?” I asked breathlessly, not able to hide how his charms affected me.
He smiled, keeping my hand securely in his. “I said you were more beautiful than even the wildest rose. So beautiful in fact that I wouldn’t mind fighting all the thorns just to touch your sumptuous face.”
I smiled at him and it was one of my first genuine smiles as far as the Kings of Brentwood were concerned. “Aren’t you going to get into trouble? Showing kindness to the enemy and all.”
“For a beauty like you?” he grinned. “I would face an enraged army.”
I rolled my eyes but blushed at the compliment. It was strange though, in the few weeks since I‘d arrived here, I’d been treated as a chess piece by some, a parasite by others, a curiosity at best. I was so… lonely that the barest of compliments felt like a treasure… pathetic.
“Where did you go?” he asked, squeezing my hand.
I met his eyes and despite the mirth there, there was more, something he was desperately trying to hide – a quiet desperation I could only see because it mirrored my own.
“I’m not sure, but maybe you shouldn’t show me so much sympathy. This is probably not something that King Caleb would forgive easily.”
He shrugged like he couldn’t care less and for a minute I believed that. “You know this world works differently and had you grown up here, you and I would have been matched by our parents, so if I want to show some kindness to someone who could have been my betrothed, I’m allowed to.”
I chuckled at that. Betrothed, arranged marriage – what a ludicrous thought. As if I would ever agree to something so backward. “You’re quite good looking,” I admitted. “It wouldn’t have been too bad,” I added, playing along.
His grin returned. “Don’t I know it.”
I rolled my eyes – at least something was similar to the other Kings – he was conceited as shit. I was about to retort when my father appeared beside me.
“Esmeralda –” he greeted me; his voice so cold I was surprised I didn’t freeze on the spot.
“Father –” I replied, matching his tone.
His lips turned into a fine line; his nostrils flaring. He was angry with me but doing his best to hide it – appearances were everything for him, that much was clear. I was poking an angry bear; I knew I was stupid and reckless and yet I couldn’t help myself.
He grabbed my wrist and squeezed it painfully, plastering a fake smile on his face before turning toward Antoine. “I’m sorry Antoine but there are a few people I need to introduce my beautiful daughter to.”
Antoine bowed his head. “I understand.” He turned to me. “A bientot, my chère.”
“Don’t think your lateness is forgotten, Esmeralda,” my father whispered angrily as he tugged at my wrist to follow him. “I’ll deal with the consequences of your disrespect at the end of the night.” He pressed his hand on the small of my back, nudging me forward. “But be the perfect socialite daughter tonight and I might settle for a lighter punishment.”
A punishment that wasn’t deserved or warranted I thought as the blush of anger crept up my neck. “Yes, father,” I enunciated through grinding teeth.
He directed me to a couple standing by the side of the room. The husband was tall, with pale blond hair and friendly looking brown eyes beaming at us as we approached. I didn’t know the reason, but the man seemed to be genuinely ecstatic to meet me.
His wife had the blackest hair I’d ever seen with eyes so pale blue they looked like ice, especially in contrast with her hair and with the cool indifference she used to detail me.
“My dear Esmeralda!” the man exclaimed, reaching for my hand as if he’d known me my whole life. “I’m so happy to finally meet you.”
I forced a polite smile as he kept my hand in his, rubbing it with his other. “Nice to meet you.”
I looked at my father who nodded approvingly down to me.
“Esmeralda, please allow me to introduce you to our family’s oldest friends, James Astor and his wife Jacklyn.”
“You look so much like your mother, it’s uncanny.” James beamed with appreciation. “Don’t you think, dear?” he added for his wife’s benefit as he kept his eyes on me.
I glanced at her. “Indeed,” she replied coolly, but her dislike of the fact was unmissable. Seriously, what was it with this town and its people hating me on principle?
As for looking like my mother, yes it was true, it was something I was immensely proud of but these days, it constituted a hindrance more than anything else.
“Oh, have you met my son?” James asked, his good humor still in place. He turned his head, looking around, but I already knew well who his son was – he had his father’s hair and features and his mother’s mesmerizing eyes – I knew Satan just fine.
“Ah Caleb, here you are.” He gestured toward me. “I believe you’ve already met Esmeralda Forbes, haven’t you?”
Caleb looked at me with smooth features, bowing his head ever so slightly. It was strange to look at him without his perpetual scowl on his face. “Esmeralda,” he greeted me, his voice as smooth as velvet. It lacked its usual bite of disdain. One thing was sure, he could fake it just as well as the rest of them. Was it something they learned in kindergarten? Appearances 101? It had to be tedious to never be yourself.
I smiled politely. “Caleb, lovely to see you again.” Yep, two could play this game.
“Has my son been kind to you since you arrived?” James asked cheerily.
I threw him a side glance, that man was taking delusional to a whole new level if he thought his son had some kindness in him.
I forced a bright smile. “Of course, Sir, Caleb has been nothing but helpful and nice.” I met Caleb’s eye, my smile never wavering. “Thank you, Caleb, for being you.” And showing me how hateful you all are.
Caleb narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, probably wondering what my end game was. Truth be told I had no end game, I knew that ratting him out wouldn't serve my cause – firstly, because I was a woman and he was the heir – secondly I genuinely didn’t care what he could say to me, I’ve heard people say they were above it all and in this case I really was.
James Astor laughed, “Marvellous! I knew I could count on you, son.”
Caleb stood straighter, still detailing me with suspicion. “Of course, Father.”
My father sighed beside me and I realized he was as bored by the exchange as I was. “If you’ll excuse us, there are a few additional people I need to introduce my lovely daughter to.”
Lovely daughter. It took all my willpower not to laugh at that one and as I met Caleb’s eyes his lips quirked up which I met with a half-smile on my own. Did we just share a secret smile? I couldn’t even be sure it really happened as he rushed away to join my glowering brother on the other side of the room.
“Esmeralda, if you will,” my father added extending his arm for me to take.
And for the next couple of hours my father introduced me to people I forgot as soon as we walked away but I did what he asked, showed decorum and respect – I was seriously surprised by myself and as the evening progressed, my father seemed to relax a little too.
The only other people I remembered that night were the Oppenheimers, Taylor’s parents. Her mom was just as stunning as I expected her to be, petite, light brown hair, jade eyes. Her adoptive father was all darkness, dark eyes, dark hair – he looked so
terrifying and so contrary to all the lovely stories of a smitten man and loving father Taylor was telling me.
The rest of the evening was boring after my father did his dutiful fatherly introduction and his cheesy little speech on how he felt blessed to have his child back that made me nauseous – a part of him missing blah blah and all that crap he returned to his own business talk, his dutiful father act quickly forgotten.
As the guests started to leave, Archie came to stand beside me. “He didn’t mean it, you know,” he sneered looking right ahead, his arms crossed behind his back. He looked a lot like a monarch in this position and objectively he was, he was the heir to the Forbes fortune, a capitalist monarch.
“Who?” I asked. Did he mean Antoine and his stupid compliments?
“Father.” He jerked his head towards the main hall where our father was laughing with an older man. “You don’t count for him, you don’t matter.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “Ah don’t I know it.” I looked up at him again and somehow saw him in a different light. Was he worried I would replace him? Was he so eager for our father’s validation that he was terrified to lose it? I shook my head. No matter what he did to me I wouldn't do that to him, it was clearly all he had in his life – father’s partial attention, I was more than happy for him to keep it for as long as I was here.
Archie sent a sceptical look my way but I didn’t have a chance to comment further as father walked briskly toward us. “You two, my office, now.”
Archie tensed but nodded sharply, turning with almost military precision to follow our father into his office.
Based on his reaction, and father’s command I understood that being called into his office was not a good thing. It did feel like being called in to see the principal.
We both stood in front of his desk as he took a seat.
He sighed, leaning back on his chair detailing us both, standing there.
“You were late,” he said to me, “Terribly so.”
I nodded. “I’m sorry.” Not really.
He clearly didn’t buy that. He turned toward Archie. “Your brother said he looked everywhere for you but you were nowhere to be found. Is this correct?” He was giving me a chance to come clean – maybe he was not as clueless as I thought he was or maybe he wanted to create a sibling feud, maybe he wanted us to fight for his praises. Well he was in for a disappointment.
