REST IN PEACE
PRESENT
Pullingup to the country club, I anticipate my confidence to plummet under the judgmental stares being leveled at me the second I step out of the car, but I find myself grinning. It seems my freshly dyed hair has provided me with a little bit of anonymity, because all I’m greeted by are the same stares and sneers I got the evening of the engagement party rather than the whispers and snickers from the coffee shop.
Yep, I’m back to being the dimestore harlot.
This time, however, I’m not alone. Jase barely meets the country club’s dress code standard, waltzing in wearing black pants that look like they’ve never met an iron, a worn half-unbuttoned shirt, and motorcycle boots ravaged with scuff marks. And I’m every part his equal, adorned in the red halter mini dress I bought for the Angels & Devils rager one of the frat houses hosted this past spring. The deep v-neck in front shows off ample cleavage, making it every bit the no-no in high society, but it’s the only dress I own that offers what I currently need. Not to mention, I also have a case of the fuck-its.
If anything, I leaned into the look when getting ready, opting for smokey eye makeup, pin-straight hair, and red stripper heels, making sure it couldn’t be mistaken for anything otherthan clubbing attire. Hey, if I’m going down swinging, I may as well look good while doing it.
Although, it seems others disagree.
One of the older women by the entrance to the banquet hall gasps and not-so-quietly suggests to her husband that he get hold of security, believing Jase and me to be party crashers.
I can’t help but laugh, until Ainsley Windsor walks by. She gives me the same cursory side-eye as everyone else but does a double-take when she realizes who’s accompanying me.
Ainsley turns on her heels and goes over to another one of my former classmates, Jocasta. The two begin whispering and looking our way, and to no one’s surprise, they both pull out their phones, setting off the chain.
And, oh boy, does word spread fast.
Jase and I get as far as the swan ice sculpture whenherlaugh cuts through the air, a comment already locked and loaded.
“Well, if it isn’t the ho and hobo,” Sienna coos from the nearby table, earning a round of snickers from the other dinner guests seated around her.
Unsurprisingly, Patrick is seated beside her, and like the obedient lap dog he is, he laughs right along with everyone else, despite the fact he’s too busy looking at his phone to even know who Sienna’s talking to. When hedoeslift his head, that laugh collapses the instant he sees Jase.
While Patrick looks like he wants to throw himself out the closest window, Sienna’s the very definition of catty. Sure, she tries her best not to appear pissed off, but the sight of Jase and I standing here together, his hand resting low on my back, has her taking too much pleasure in knocking us both down a peg…or a thousand.
Sienna eyes me up and down, her shit-eating grin on full display. “I wasn’t aware this was a bachelor party. Or are you just looking for work?” She points to her left. “The gentlemen’s clubis on the south side, sweetheart. After all, trash attracts trash, so I’m sure you’ll both fit in just fine down there.”
Neither of us responds, instead turning our attention to the thick, luxury envelope in Jase’s hand. The decorative navy material is embossed with a gold border and ribbon, looking every bit like the gift everyone else thinks it is. Assuming she’s won, Sienna turns back to the table and continues taking her victory lap, remarking she can “smell the cheap perfume, desperation, and stale beer just thinking about it.”
Soak up the attention, asshole. You’re about to get a lot more of it.
Jase opens the envelope and slips out the single sheet of paper, leaving me to my work.
Sauntering over, I watch Patrick’s tanned complexion lose another shade of color as I come to stand between him and the queen herself.
“You’re a ‘model,’ right?” I smile sweetly, pulling out the glossy eight-by-ten printout. “Could I have your autograph?”
I lay the picture down on Sienna’s empty plate, and given her comments, we’ve procured a crowd. Between the people seated at the table and gossipers loitering around it, there are easily two dozen spectators around us. Every last one of them leans in to see what I’ve put down is none other than one of the many images Trent posted onto Maggie’s social media accounts, the nearly naked redhead posed with her ass practically in his face.
Sienna smirks, flicking the picture away with the tip of her bedazzled nail, like the idea of even touching it will give her leprosy. “I’d say I should be askingyouthat, but we both know it’ll be worthless. If you were really that hellbent on being a ho, you could have at least bothered putting it behind a paywall.”
Some of the people around us snicker, but I continue smiling. “Oh, I can clearly see how people could mistake that for me, if not for two glaring details.”
She just looks bored, throwing in a theatrical yawn for effect, but her attempt at deflection gets interrupted when one of the guys standing behind us reaches around Patrick and takes the printout off the table.
I don’t need to look over my shoulder to know what he’s staring at. I don’t need to look to know that multiple people are noticing it, too, because the snickers turn to silence and then quickly escalate to whispers.
Sienna doesn’t miss the change in perception either, glaring at Patrick, who can clearly see what everybody else is staring at.“What?”she all but sneers.
Before he can so much as gesture, I turn around and let my back do the talking.
Everyone in town has seen the infamous locker room picture of me and my bare ass on display, and just like the girl back then, the supposed image of me and Trent reveals the same prominent birthmark on the right side of my back.
The only problem?
