by Katie Ashley
Jeez, this should be good. My goofball brothers were going to play at being parents or psychologists. “Come on, Jules. Tell us what’s wrong,” Colt said.
“Fine,” I said, sighing with exasperation. “So I’m all decked out for this party they’re throwing me, and I’m so nervous that I’m going to make some heinous mistake and be laughed out of Savannah.”
“Whoa, you’re having a meltdown? You never do that. You always keep it together on cases and stuff,” Remy replied.
“Yeah, well, there’s a first time for everything!” I snapped.
“Ouch, take it down a notch,” Colt said.
“Fine,” I grumbled.
“That’s better,” Colt replied, with a chuckle. “Listen, here’s how I see it. Since you always keep your head with jumpers, why don’t you forget about the party stuff and treat this just as a case?”
“Hmm, that’s an interesting thought.”
Remy chimed in. “Colt’s right. I mean, you need information about this Marshall guy, so what better place to try to sniff some out than with his society friends?”
Wow, they’d actually come through with some decent advice. I was both impressed and completely ticked off that I hadn’t thought of it myself. It was like the medieval torture device aka bustier had sucked out all my bounty hunting skills. “That’s a really good idea, guys.”
Colt snorted. “Yeah, I know it’s shocking for once we had the upper-hand on you, so let us enjoy it while we can.”
“Oh whatever.”
The clock over the mantle chimed, signaling it was Cinderella time. “Crap, I gotta go, boys. But I really appreciate your help and calming me down and all.”
“No problem, Little Sis,” Remy said.
“Yep, anytime,” Colt replied.
“Love ya!” I tossed the phone on my bed and hurried out into the hallway. The last thing I needed was to be late for my grand entrance. Just as I got into position, I heard the clinking of a knife against a champagne flute, requesting everyone to be quiet. As I gazed down the stairs, Aunt Vivian was taking her place at the bottom.
“Thank you all for coming this evening. As you all know, your presence was requested so that we, the women of Percy House, might introduce you to a very special young lady. While she has been denied the luxury of growing up here in Savannah, we’re hoping she transitions wonderfully into our world. I give you my niece, Miss Julianne Elizabeth St. James.”
That was my cue. I fought the urge to cross myself before starting down the stairs. My stomach churned at the humiliating thought of pitching forward, rolling down the stairs, and landing with my dress up over my head. Yeah, those were the manic thoughts running through my mind.
Somehow I managed to plaster a smile on my face. Drawing my shoulders back, I put one foot in front of the other and started down the stairs. I tried to ignore the skin crawling sensation of feeling everyone’s eyes on me. I honed in on Jackson. Outfitted in a classic black tux, he smiled reassuringly while giving me a thumbs-up. It was totally corny but cute at the same time. Bobbing my head, I returned his smile. Of course, it faded when I got an eyeful of Bryn standing next to him. She looked sleek and sexy in a form fitting red satin slip dress. When she shot Jackson a murderous look, he put his thumb down and looked away.
I finally reached the bottom step and exhaled in relief. A society hottie I’d never seen before came up and asked me to dance. After we took a turn and I managed not to fall on my face, I returned to Mom’s side. She linked her arm through mine. “You did wonderfully, Julianne. Now I want to introduce you to a few people.” Instead of letting fear rule me, I inhaled a deep breath and went into bounty hunting mode. This was my chance to find out any information I could about the Marshalls.
Mom introduced me to a group of some of the snootiest people I’d ever seen before excusing herself to check on the caterers. I tried being riveted by talk of the Fontaine’s summer home or the two week Alaskan Cruise the Billingham’s had just returned from, but I couldn’t help feeling antsy. I had work to do.
Finally, I cleared my throat and put on my best society voice. “Lovely seeing Jackson Marshall here this evening.” Laying it on thick, I slightly lowered my voice. “You know, in spite of everything with his father.”
Mrs. Billingham nodded. “Yes, it is so unfortunate about what happened with Emmett. I can’t imagine how hard it has to be on Lynette and Jackson to show their faces anywhere. I mean, even though they had nothing to do with it, they’re still tainted simply by association.”
Mr. Fontaine took a swig of his Scotch. “It’s a damn shame what happened. Course, I can’t fault Emmett too much, considering it was a bunch of Yankees’ money he absconded with!”
Mr. Billingham chuckled along with Mr. Fontaine. Trying to keep them talking, I said, “I just hope those Yankees don’t come down here and find him.”
Mr. Fontaine snorted. “I’d like to see them try. Everyone knows that Emmett’s somewhere nobody would find him.”
“Like where?” I pressed.
Mr. Fontaine drew in a deep breath, and I leaned forward so far I was practically on my tip-toes, which probably wasn’t the best of ideas considering the poofiness of my dress and the tightness of my bustier.
“I’d say for sure he’s in—” Mr. Fontaine began.
“Jules!” Mom called.
In my shock, I jumped, tipping myself forward and barreling right into Mr. Fontaine. The force knocked his arm, sending Scotch cascading on his wife’s cream colored evening gown. “Shit,” I mumbled under my breath.
Fortunately no one heard me. Instead, they were all riveted by the dark stain all down the front of Mrs. Fontaine’s dress. “Oh no, how positively dreadful!” Mrs. Billingham cried.
Everyone turned to peer at me. I truly felt like the bull in a china shop cliché. “I’m so, so sorry. I, um, I’m so clumsy.”
Mom appeared at my side. I expected to see a horror stricken look on her face, but instead, she took Mrs. Fontaine by the hand. “I’m sure Alice has something that will take that right out.” I tried not to let my mouth gape open in shock when she gave me a reassuring smile.
“Once again, I’m really, really sorry,” I said.
Mr. Fontaine waved his hand dismissively. “These things happen. But I’m going to need some more Scotch.”
Mr. and Mrs. Billingham both gave me polite nods before moving on to another group of people to talk to. I’m sure they wanted to get away from me before I spilled something on them as well.
Feeling like an ultimate failure, I snatched a champagne flute off one of the passing caterer’s trays. I downed the alcohol, which sent a burn across my chest. I shuddered. Ugh, champagne was the worst. I didn’t have the slightest buzz, but I needed to burp from all the bubbles, and doing that in public would totally cement my uncooth reputation.
Mom appeared at my side. “Alice is working on the stain, so quit worrying that you’ve made a huge faux pas or something.”
“That’s good to hear.”
With a smile, Mom lowered her voice as she said, “Besides, Mrs. Fontaine is known for her voracious appetite. She usually leaves parties with something down the front of her dress. Whatever possessed her to wear beige, I’ll never know.” Mom saw another group of people and waved. “Come on, I have some more people to introduce you to.”
“Wonderful,” I replied, trying to bite back my sarcasm.
As Mom floated from the rich to the richer, she seemed totally at ease. Standing beside her, I couldn’t help but wonder again what had happened to the woman who turned her nose up to designer labels and wore her hair pulled back in a ponytail as she mucked out the horse stalls. If I mentioned any of that, she’d probably shrivel up and die right there on the spot.
I was brought screechingly out of my thoughts when Mrs. Dunworth said, “So Julianne, I understand you’re planning on going into law like your father.”
My brows furrowed. “Law like my father, but he--”
Mom quickly e
dged between me and Mrs. Dunworth. “Yes, Julianne’s father and I are very pleased she is following in his footsteps.”
“Wonderful. If you need a recommendation for Georgia, just let me know. I’ll be happy to make a call to the alumni office.”
I pursed my lips. “That’s very kind of you,” I said, in the fakest voice I could muster.
At my response, Mom released the breath she had been holding. “And what part of law do you see yourself practicing?” Mrs. Dunworth asked.
“You know, I’d really love to work with high profile clients. Maybe some white collar defendants. Cases like Emmett Marshall’s really interest me. You know, a man who has it all and then breaks the law, sending him into hiding.”
Mrs. Dunforth gave me a strange look. “Yes, I imagine that would fascinate a young mind like yours.” She gave Mom a tight smile. “Do excuse me, Annabel.”
Once Mrs. Dunforth turned her attention to someone else, Mom ushered me to a secluded corner by the ballroom. “Julianne, I cannot believe you brought up Emmett Marshall to Mrs. Dunforth. She’s Lynette Marshall’s aunt!”
Fabulous, I was really on a roll tonight. All I needed now was to knock over one of the table candles and start a fire. Jeez, it was like putting on a bustier and a poofy gown had completely messed up my bounty hunting game.
“Well, I’m sorry. She threw me by bringing up the law thing. I mean, you better be glad I didn’t say, ‘Yes, Mrs. Snobbyworth, I would totally follow in my father’s footsteps, but you see, he’s just this lowly bail enforcement officer aka bounty hunter’!”
Mom closed her eyes and appeared to be counting to ten. “Julianne,” she started off evenly, “you can’t make judgments on things you do not understand. There is a reason why I told people certain things about your father.”
“I think I have a pretty good idea why you told them what you did. I mean, you come off looking a lot better being the ex-wife of a lawyer than a bounty hunter.”
Mom sighed exasperatedly. “Let’s not argue about this now. Can’t we just go back out and enjoy the party?”
I held up my hands in defeat. “Fine, whatever you say.”
With a nod, Mom turned and started back across the ballroom. I went in the opposite direction, then I turned a corner and ran smack into Bryn and some of her friends. Like a true Queen Bee Bitch, she stood encircled by what I could only surmise were her gang of followers. She seriously gave me a Mean Girls/Regina George vibe. Unfortunately, Jackson was nowhere in sight.
Bryn’s “Plastics” looked almost identical with their perfectly coiffed hair, designer dresses, and noses stuck into the stratosphere. They stared at me before glancing back at Bryn to determine whether they should acknowledge my presence.
Motioning around with her champagne flute, Bryn said, “Nice party, Jules.”
“Thanks.” When the girls continued staring at me like a mutant, I cleared my throat. “Mom and Aunt Vivian really know how to plan an event.”
Sizing me up, Bryn smirked and said, “Leslie should get a serious raise. You’re barely recognizable from the train wreck you were yesterday.” Her friends giggled on cue like robots.
“Wow,” I smiled back, “Are you really so lame that you have to resort to catty comments to impress your pathetic minions?”
Bryn appeared shocked for a second, but she quickly recovered. “I think we know who the pathetic one is around here. I’m just waiting for you to screw up again. It kinda runs on your side of the family, doesn’t it?”
I clenched my fists at my side. “You wanna step outside and say that again?”
Rolling her eyes, Bryn replied, “Why am I not surprised you’d resort to physical threats? Could you be more from the gutter?”
I stepped closer to her. “Maybe you’re just afraid I’d ruin your nose job!”
Bryn’s hand flew to her face. “You wouldn’t!”
“Trust me, you’re so not worth messing up my manicure!” I snapped, before flouncing off towards the veranda. Of course, escaping out the door in a big poofy dress was a little more complicated than I thought. I had to turn to the side and then shimmy out. As soon as my dress was free, I slammed the veranda door. I could still see Bryn and her circle of Plastics flapping their gums. “Argh, what a bitch!”
A voice behind me made me jump. “Excuse me?”
Whirling around, I saw Jackson leaning up against the porch railing. The corners of his lips quirked up like he was fighting not to smile. “Oh, um, nothing,” I mumbled. With my heels killing me, I hobbled over to him.
He cocked his head. “Didn’t sound like nothing to me. You almost broke the panes of glass on the door.”
“Yeah, I’m not the best when it comes to keeping my temper.” Easing out of my heels, I sighed in relief. “Whoever invented heels was a total masochist.”
“I’ll have to take your word on that one,” he chuckled.
“I guess so.”
Jackson’s expression suddenly darkened. “Bryn and her friends were giving you shit, huh?”
“How did you…?” I turned back around and then realized that Jackson had probably seen us through the windows. “Oh well, yeah, they’re just lucky we’re surrounded by people. Trust me, if it was any other time, she so wouldn’t have gotten away with it.”
“Oh really?” he asked.
“I know you don’t know me that well, but trust me. This,” I motioned down to my dress, “is so not me. And I may not be schooled in all the society crap everyone worships around here, but I am schooled in Karate and Tae Kwan Do.”
Amusement twinkled in his eyes. “You’re an ass-kicker, huh?”
“You could say that.”
“You should show me some of your moves sometime.”
I grinned. “I promise the moment I’m out of this dress, not to mention this bustier/torture device, I’ll be happy to.”
“Torture device?”
Ugh, me and my big, stupid mouth. “Oh, um, it’s this… bra thingie I had to wear with the dress,” I finally replied.
Even in the darkness, I swore Jackson blushed. “I see.”
Trying to change the subject, I asked, “So what are you doing out here?”
“Getting some fresh air.” When I shot him a skeptical look, he sighed. “Let’s just say I’m not one for the whole society scene either.”
“That’s an interesting development.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Shrugging, I said, “I guess I just assumed you were more like Bryn. You know, someone who actually worshipped all that society world insanity.”
Jackson shook his head. “Oh no, I’m right there with you. The parties, the bragging, the throwing your wealth around—it’s all bullshit to me.”
“Wow, someone who hasn’t crossed over to the dark side,” I replied, with a smile.
He grinned. “Nope, not happening.”
Besides his obvious good looks, Jackson’s personality and ideals were making him more and more appealing. He was probably one of the most decent guys I’d ever met. Well, the most decent whose dad was a bail jumper.
Rocking back on his feet, Jackson said, “I guess I better get back in before Bryn sends out a search party and gives me shit for being antisocial.”
Fabulous. I’d barely had him alone for five minutes before he had to go running back to Bryn. She had some more magnetic pull on him—kinda like the Bermuda Triangle. Before I could bite my tongue, I blurted, “Yeah, well, maybe you should give her shit for being such a control freak.”
“Maybe I will,” he replied.
“Just promise you’ll let me be around when you do?”
He laughed. “We’ll see.” He started for the door. “Night, Jules.”
“Night.”
I watched Jackson’s retreating form as he slipped back inside the house. Bryn barely acknowledged him, but he remained by her side like a loyal puppy. Ugh, why did guys have to be so blind and so stupid when it came to girls?
I stayed outside
gazing at the stars as long as I could. I don’t know how long I had been MIA when a voice interrupted my reverie. “What are you doing out here?” Mom asked.
“Oh, I just needed a little air.”
Trying to look nonchalant, Mom peered around the veranda. “Someone said they thought you were out here with Jackson Marshall.”
“I was, but he….” I didn’t know quite what to say considering Mom’s gaze was almost accusatory. It wasn’t like anything had happened, but the longer I stalled the more guilty I looked. “Um, he went back in to find Bryn. But I thought I’d just stay out here.”
Mom’s expression said she didn’t quite believe my story, but she didn’t argue. “Well, the guests are about to leave, so come inside and help me tell them goodbye.”
I groaned. “Do I have to? I’m really tired, and—”
“Julianne, people will expect you to say thanks for coming.”
“Fine,” I grumbled. I was too physically and emotionally exhausted to argue with her. I knew the sooner I got it over with, the sooner I could escape to my room. The next half hour was spent thanking everyone for coming and wishing everyone well. When the last guest had finally left, it was almost midnight.
Aunt Vivian moaned as she eased down into one of the straight back chairs in the foyer. “Lord, I didn’t think they would ever leave. My feet are achin’ for a soda bath.” She popped her feet out of her heels. “But I do think the party was a great success, don’t you, Annabel?”
Mom nodded. “Oh yes, I think Julianne had a wonderful introduction to Savannah.”
Aunt Lenore padded barefoot into the foyer, heels in one hand, champagne flute in the other. “Did you see Annais Lindsey tonight? That man is one step away from the nuthouse.”
“It runs in the family, you know. His grandfather and two uncles ended up in the sanitarium,” Aunt Vivian replied.
Since the last thing I wanted to do was listen to the trials and tribulations of the Lindsey family, I yawned loudly. When they all turned to stare at me, I didn’t bother to apologize. “If there’s nothing else you need me for, would you all mind if I went up to bed?”
“No honey, you go right on ahead. You’ve had a big night,” Aunt Vivian replied.
