“Exactly!” Gemma agreed, enthusiastically. “It’ll be so good to find out. Bastien is so cagy about it though, maybe he’ll spill once we get to know each other better. Has Blaise said anything to you?”
“Nothing, just that he had something to finish up with the guys.” I lied uneasily, feeling Noelle’s accusing gaze on me. I sucked more on my cigarette before spinning round to face her. “Hey, you also need to tell us more about what happened with Damien in those tunnels.”
“Queen of deflection…” she murmured, taking advantage of Gemma’s brief distraction with her phone. Probably Bastien, I thought bitterly. “What’s the obsession with that anyway? Nothing happened. Just shared a love for some creepy tunnels filled with bones.”
I ignored her faraway, preoccupied gaze and focused on Gemma who was speaking. “Creepy is what it is for sure. I love you but I don’t understand your obsession.”
“Hey! It’s all mystical, connects us with the universe.”
“Yada, yada, yada.” Gemma chuckled.
Noelle smiled mischievously. I braced myself for whatever plan she was cooking up. “Well…” she began, drawing out the word. “You know that we could figure out what’s happening with Blaise.”
I downed my drink and picked up the gin bottle for a refill. “No, babe. Like I said, there’s nothing happening there and as great as it would be for the cards to divine our happily-ever-after, I really can’t see it happening. We left it at just a one weekend thing because he’s too committed to whatever shit he’s got going on and it’s a classic rebound situation.” Noelle pouted, undeterred. My mystical bestie also was proficient at reading tarot cards and was actually building up quite a following, both in reality and on Instagram.
“Hey, what about Bastien? You don’t want to check my cards?” Gemma asked, her voice trembling with hurt. I sighed. For once the conversation wasn’t about her romance and she was upset. Typical. This is what I wanted though. Distracted by Bastien so I could focus on Blaise, I reasoned.
“Of course, you know I’d love to! I just didn’t think that you believed in it.”
Gemma chuckled. “It’s all good. I know you like it and I love you for that and it’s calm if I don’t entirely believe my life to be ruled by a set of cards.”
Noelle scowled at that but said lightly, “You never know what the cards may read.”
A chill wind blew in and I shivered, the cold startling for a balmy June evening. “So what did you guys think about that weekend? Great fun right?”
Thankfully, Gemma leaped on the change in topic and we proceeded to dissect the weekend in depth, analysing everything from her blossoming relationship with Bastien to the sheer recklessness and debauchery of the weekend itself. We briefly wondered over the boys’ mystique and their shroud of secrets but I deflected quickly, not wanting to let on more than I knew about their society. Eventually, and after one too many gin and tonics, we headed to bed. The merriness of our evening was going to hurt tomorrow, and despite the alcohol I tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep. My brain was too keyed up about everything I didn’t know and all the variable factors that could impact any possible relationship Blaise and I may have.
The next day I woke up to the sun streaming aggressively through my thin curtains and flung my arm against my eyes in a futile attempt to alleviate the head-pounding brightness. Sighing, I gave up and headed to the shower to stand under the stream of water, trying desperately to rinse myself of the alcohol from last night. Rinsing myself of the sins of last weekend and indulging in the fantasy that I was free to do whatever I wanted. That I was still blissfully ignorant about everything I had learnt yesterday. Ignorance was truly fucking bliss.
Ripping myself from my fantasy, I headed back to my room, after greeting a bleary-eyed Noelle and got ready for the day. I contemplated my wardrobe. Clothes had always been somewhat of an armour for me. If I needed courage but couldn’t get it from any kind of substance then clothes did the job nicely. Xander had always liked to dress his little doll up; simultaneously showing me off but reminding me that my beauty was for him and him alone.
* * *
“Wear this to the party, little doll,” Xander lazily commanded me, chucking over a dress.
I held it up to inspect it. It was a short, emphasis on that adjective, black dress and was backless. I laughed. “This isn’t a dress, Xan.”
“Well I want you to wear it. You can wear that long velvet coat with it and I’ll know that you have it on, it’ll be our exciting little secret. It’s a family party anyway so at least this will make it seem a bit more exciting. They are always so fucking long.”
“Exactly, Xan! A family party, imagine if someone asks me to take the coat off… what do I say then? Do I say that you made me wear it?”
His features had tightened at that but his words attempted to mask the rage evident on his face. “Of course, you won’t. What boyfriend takes an interest in his girlfriend’s clothes?”
“Let me just choose what I want to wear.”
“No. Absolutely not. You are hot as sin, Xan, and I want you to wear something that shows off my sexy body.”
“Your sexy body?” I volleyed back, shocked. It wasn’t unusual for him to sometimes refer to my body as his possession but it rankled, scratching along every nerve ending.
He arched an eyebrow and answered tiredly. “Yes. My body. Remember, Xan, I know what’s best for you.” He got up and prowled towards me, caging me against the wall, forcing my towel down so I was naked before him. “Wear the dress.”
The argument was over and I acquiesced to his demands. I had worn that dress to the party and it was fine in that I hadn’t been asked to take my coat off but the flash of the hemline did raise a few eyebrows from some of the older generation in his family causing me to wilt with shame. Then I hadn’t questioned it, I had always done what Xan had asked me to do because I thought he knew best, but I guess not.
* * *
Facing my wardrobe, I selected a black blazer dress with military style gold buttons down the front paired with black heels with a wickedly high gold heel. Completely inappropriate for the bitch work I was going to have to do but fuck it. Maybe I would quit work? Maybe Maxine would fire me? Maybe Blaise would rescue me by then and everything would be fine?
Last night’s call clarified how my parents would not stop at ensuring that I moved back to their expansive house in Wimbledon with the full support of Xander. It would be under the guise of helping me with my stress induced hysteria but, in reality, it would effectively be incarceration.
I picked up my bag, checking my phone, charger, and keys were in there and headed out the door, only to bump into the girls waiting for me in the living room. Gemma sighed but Noelle whistled in appreciation.
“Damn, girl. If this is what break-ups do to you, then I say go for it.”
“You sure it’s not too much for a Tuesday? Not saying that you don’t look hot as fuck but those heels don’t look capable of lugging boxes up and down stairs or running to and from the supermarket.”
“Fuck you, Gemma. Why do you always have to be so down? Like I get it your job as a lifestyle columnist is great and it’s unbelievable that you’ve got it straight out of university but guess what, we’re not all as lucky as you.”
“Lucky as me? I worked bloody hard to get where I am and I didn’t have it handed to me by Mummy and Daddy, thank you very much.”
“Because I’m not as smart as you to get something like that.”
“Or you just had an overprotective, controlling boyfriend who limited you and clipped your wings.”
“Hey, guys…”
“Not now, Noelle,” Gemma snapped, her eyes watering. “I just want the best for you, Xanthe. Can’t you see that? Past couple days you have been down my throat non-stop and I just don’t get what’s happened. Life isn’t easy but then you should know how we are all queens at masking our real feelings. It’s easier to pretend life is okay and get on with it, am I right? Anywa
y, I was just worried, okay.”
I stared at her, guilt eating at me. I was a monster for treating her like I did but I couldn’t stop the jealousy making me into a bitch when I was around her. Her ungratefulness for her simple, stress free life angered me no end, but I couldn’t push her away over irrational envy. I did love her and I had treated her horribly over the past few days; stress was clouding my judgement and making me lash out at someone as sweet as Gemma. She didn’t deserve that. “I’m sorry, I’m just on edge and venting, and that’s not okay. I love you, okay?” I hugged them both quickly before pulling back. “Right girls, let’s get to work because we don’t have all day and it’s already nearly 8am.”
Forty minutes or so later, having navigated the packed tube and cursing my decision to wear heels because of course I didn’t manage to snag a seat, I tottered into the office which was based in Pimlico. As I hesitated outside the tasteful grey door to the office, I heard the nasally voice of one of her lackeys, India.
“Good to see you finally turned up. Don’t even pretend that you were sick yesterday.”
In return I simpered at her. “Good to see you too. How was your weekend?”
“Ugh.” She pushed past me and headed into the office leaving me to trail in her wake. Nice speaking with you too, I thought, glaring at her blonde ponytail swishing back and forth. It would be so fucking satisfying to chop it off.
“There you are. Next time I need more warning than the end of the working day. I know I am friends with your dear mother but you are still on probation and, at that, on your final warning.” Maxine’s clipped, home counties accent jolted me out of my hair cutting fantasies and I spun round to smile at her, scrambling to understand her.
I hadn’t sent a doctor’s note. Who could have sent her the note? Xander wouldn’t have sent it because that would not help him in his quest to lock me up in his doll’s house. It must have been Blaise. Why was he helping me when he had made it clear he didn’t want me? I smugly concluded that he must care about me to some degree. My plan was growing more viable by the day.
“Doesn’t explain why you went to Paris…” India tossed over her shoulder, as she paused by the kitchen.
“Hmmm Paris?”
I answered for her. “Yes. A few friends and I decided to head over there for the weekend.” Spinning round to India I gushed like the air-headed socialite that Xander wanted me to be. “So easy on a private jet. Guess it’s not something you’d be very familiar with?”
India snarled, her face going red. Maxine intervened. “And you continue to prove what a spoilt brat you are. I think that you need to do more shifts to understand the value of hard work. It’s like you expect everything to be handed to you and life just doesn’t work that way.” She paused, perusing my outfit. “And that’s a ridiculous outfit. How on earth do you expect to be able to catch up on everything you missed yesterday? Phoebe had to help with last minute arrangements with the venue which is so typical… even the intern is more of an asset than you are.”
I cringed under her criticism and ducked my head meekly. Fuck, I hated being meek and quiet but sometimes it was the only way to get through life. I learnt that certain women, like Maxine, thrived off exerting control over others and displays of subservience to their supposed authority. Damn woman would be having such a power trip right now. At least she was getting some excitement in her sad as fuck life, I thought viciously. It’s why the intern, Phoebe, was so popular in this office because she sucked up so hard to everyone just like a grovelling girlfriend deep–throating her boyfriend.
“What would you like me to do?” I asked.
“Well… we’ve got this important event you know, at The Tower in just a couple weeks’ time,” Maxine paused and I could swear that I saw her pathetic, bony chest swell up with self-assumed importance. “And I need you to get everything the chefs require for the tasting this Tuesday. Had you bothered to turn up yesterday, you could have ordered it online but as is, I’ll need you to source the ingredients and find somewhere to store them correctly in the office as the kitchen we’re using won’t be ready for them until Thursday morning.”
I ignored her pointed jab and asked, “No problem. Any chance that I can know who this client is?” Client lists were, in Maxine’s words, exclusive to proper staff only at Mint Catering and Events. I wasn’t a proper worker as I hadn’t earned my spot yet. Again, to quote Maxine.
She laughed and aimed her question at Jaz, India’s partner in crime. She was the other event planner who just happened to be walking past. “Did you hear that? Shall we just tell her about this event?”
Jaz paused, considered me, a cruel smile curving her lips. “No. After last week’s unfortunate mixup where the flowers got sent to India’s client and the quails eggs were sent to my client…especially considering my client’s allergy to eggs and the subsequent blacklisting.”
“Hear that? You haven’t earned the right to know who we work for. Just do your job properly and then you might actually get somewhere.” Maxine sighed as if I was just an exasperating waste of time, dismissing the conversation with a wave of her hand.
I headed over to my desk, seething with rage. Jaz and India had deliberately set me up with the unfortunate mixup of last week, as they thought it was funny. They actually did this all the time; gave me instructions and then proceeded to critique everything I’d done and make it out like I hadn’t understood the brief properly. It was so frustrating because it wasn’t like I had done anything to them, but they seemed to derive some sort of sadistic joy out of exerting their superiority. They were both twenty-five years old, so I supposed those two extra years spent on this planet before I arrived merited some kind of superiority complex, or they were just bitches. Either way I couldn’t stand either of them as they were dull, unimaginative girls whose greatest kick seemed to be making fun and taking advantage of me. It was a miracle that I still had a job.
Ignoring their whispering, I glanced at the shopping list. Most of it would be a straightforward collection from Waitrose, but there were some items that could prove problematic. More problematic would be where to store it. I wouldn’t put it past either Jaz or India to mess it up because the client surely couldn’t be that important for them to be able to resist a classic case of sabotage. I fired up my computer, tuned them out, and glanced at my emails to begin the arduous task of sifting through the RSVPs that Jaz and India had redirected to my inbox. Such tasks were clearly below their lofty level of experience. The shopping list could wait until later. I would get the more problematic items today, on the way home, and deal with the rest tomorrow, praying I had a clear day to get everything.
Blaise
I gazed out at the countryside as we hurtled down the A3 to the Church where I was expected to sign my life away. The feeling of entrapment irked me. I felt like ants were running up and down my skin and I couldn’t stop scratching, my knee going up and down like I was on a damn bicycle.
“Bloody hell, de Vere, would you stop that already?” Ludo drawled in annoyance.
“It’s not your life you’re signing away. Pimped out by your own Father like you’re nothing more than a cheap whore,” I snapped back.
“Jesus would you stop that already?” Damien sighed.
“Not Jesus,” I reminded him. “If I was, I’d get God to fucking smite our elders and hand us what is rightfully ours, all wrapped up in a pretty package.”
The car hurtled at easily one hundred miles per hour off the A3 onto the hard shoulder, lurching to a stop inches from the grassy verge. We were all jolted forward, my forehead slapping against the headrest in front of me. Death had never bothered me. It was another mundane worry of normal people, but fuck, if that hadn’t scared me. I guess I had something to start caring about in my life.
“Fuck’s sake. This is why I asked to drive.” I paused for effect. “So we wouldn’t be killed by the idiot that is Bastien Delacourt.”
Instantly, he spun around in his seat and fixed me with his Arct
ic glare. “No. You’ve agreed to this so stop whining like a toddler denied its afternoon treat. Prove to us why you are our leader or I guess we’ll just have to demote you. Since Paris,” he paused, fury flashing like icy fire in his gaze, breathing heavily. “Since Xanthe, you have been off. It’s like we actually have a human for once. You are no longer this automated robot going through the motions of life, and fuck, that is a good thing, but you agreed to this. We all agreed to this and we have supported each other. You will be able to divorce whoever our elders have decided is going to be your bride and you’ll have more than enough wealth to provide child maintenance. Hell, we’ll even chip in, shoulder the burden, as we always have. But so help me God you will go through this. I know, it’s shit, it’s five years of your life, or until you can get the bitch knocked up and a baby pumped out. For all we know Xanthe might have moved on in that time, but if she hasn’t then it’s the real deal and you can go on and enjoy however many decades of fucking married bliss with her.”
Stunned, I leant back but before I could counter Bastien, Ludo cut me off. “Fuck you, Delacourt, for bringing that up and fuck you, de Vere, for thinking that you will get away with treating a girl like Xanthe with such disrespect.”
“I’m not thinking that and it’s clear you’re still hung up on Xanthe, who is, for the record, very lovely.”
“You both are insane.”
“No, not insane. Just annoyed that my task is taking away several years of my life.”
“Shut up, children,” Damien snapped from the front seat, twisting his body to glare at us. “You need to grow up. The pair of you.”
I snapped my jaw shut, slumping back in the backseat like a rebuked child. Fucking daddy Damien, I cursed. The rest of the journey passed in icy tension and before we knew it we were winding our way down the twisty Dorset roads, the light dappled green by the over-exuberant June growth of the surrounding trees and hedges. As always, I felt my mask tighten on my features as we approached my supposed ancestral lands. When we pulled up outside the dilapidated Church I dropped out of the car, sauntering to the wretched building with the others bringing up the rear.
Little Doll: Queens of Chaos 1 Page 14
