Page 60 of The Revenge
Syn presses his lips together, and I wince as I expect him to snap at me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he simply closes the lid and puts the box down on the closest surface. He turns back to me, pulling another box out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket. “What about this?”
I take the thin box from him and open it. Lying on red silk is a tennis bracelet, a watch with a silver face, and a matching pair of earrings which are both half the length of the bracelet. Aside from the face of the watch, all I can see are diamonds, sparkling at me under the bright light in the dressing room.
When I don’t move or object, Syn carefully takes the watch from the box and fastens it around my wrist. “Wear them for tonight.”
Taken back by Syn’s gesture, I put both the bracelet and earrings on. “Thank you.”
It’s only when I reach for the cloak that goes with the dress that I realize that none of the options had fastenings around the neck—they were all more like coats.
Tucking that nugget of information away, I turn to really look at Syn. He’s wearing a classic black tuxedo, complete with tails and a bowtie. His light brown hair looks a little darker than normal from the gel he’s used to sweep his fringe off his face.
The overall effect is elegant, and much as it pains me to admit it, this is a look he pulls off to perfection.
“My parents have already left, so we won’t have to ride with them,” he tells me. “Our car is downstairs waiting for us.”
We head downstairs to the private elevator and then ride in silence to the ground floor. Just as he said, a shiny black Town car is waiting for us, and we get in.
It’s a little after eight, and the streets are busy. This close to Christmas, it’s either people doing last minute shopping, or out celebrating. If there’s one thing about Christmas in New York that I love, it’s the lights, and the elaborate lengths stores will go to in dressing their windows. Unfortunately, the distraction outside is short-lived as the driver turns off 5thAvenue and takes a route directly through Central Park.
Finally, I turn to Syn. “I get it. You don’t want to spend time with me, and you can’t wait until you never have to speak to me again, but are you going to tell me anything about tonight’s plan?”
Syn’s eyes narrow. “You’re upset that I didn’t tell you anything when there have been people with us all day?”
“No, I just…” I sigh. This isn’t worth it. “I don’t even know where the Gala is being held.”
“The American Museum of Natural History.”
At least I don’t have to be stuck in a car with him for too long.
Sure enough, we’re in a short line of cars waiting to drop off their passengers, and then we’re joining a stream of people walking up the steps to the entrance.
I’ve been to the museum once before for a class trip. I’d spent most of the time with my friends, trying to avoid our teachers and do the least amount of work possible. But if there’s anything I remember about that trip, tonight, everything looks completely different.
The pale stone steps, usually covered in people sitting on them during the day, are hidden beneath a bright red carpet. The only people on them now are staff at the top and bottom, ready to help, and the few couples walking up to the entrance. Inside, someone appears at my side to take my cloak, and then we bypass the security area to the room where noise and people are spilling out of.
Waiting for us by the entrance to Milstein Hall are Royal and Gemini.
Gemini, leaning against the railings around a display of a large shark, sees us first. “Fuck me, little Vixen,” he says as we get close. “As in, literally. We can head to the planetarium, and I’ll have you seeing all kinds of stars.”
“Maybe later,” I mutter, trying to keep myself focused.
“Deal,” Gemini says as though he’s going to hold me to that.
“No deal.” Royal swats Gemini’s arm. “And to echo Gem with a little more finesse, Tori, you look absolutely breathtaking.”
“Thanks. You guys don’t look too bad yourselves.”
That’s a very large understatement.
Royal is also wearing a tuxedo, but instead of it being solid black like Syn’s, in the mood lighting, I can see darker pinstripes running up and down the material. He’s already the tallest of the three guys, but somehow, the subtle lines make him seem like he’s Captain America in formalwear.
As for Gemini, considering he is always the one to stretch the rules with the college’s dress code, and somehow gets awaywith wearing ripped jeans and a hoodie, I half-expected him to turn up to this event in something similar. Instead, he looks like he’s ready to walk down a runway. Most of his hair has been brushed back into a stubby ponytail on the back of his head. With his face not hidden by hair or a hood, the sharp angles of his cheeks and jaw are on full display.
The tuxedo he’s wearing is less traditional than Syn’s and Royal’s. The jacket is draped over the railing beside him, and the embroidered waistcoat is on full display, showing off his hourglass figure.
Once again, I can’t deny that I’m standing with three of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever seen.
“Is he here? Preston?” I ask, as though there’s someone else we’re here to see.
