steel."
"Right, that's him. And why exactly would—" I
break off as Carter appears at our elbow.
"Mind if I cut in?" he asks.
"Well—" William begins reluctantly.
"Thanks," Carter interrupts, and holds out his
hand to me. I smile at William and take Carter's hand.
"You sure it won't look weird for us to dance
together?" I murmur to Carter as William walks away, looking a bit peeved.
"Bree made me," he replies.
"She made you?" I glance over at Bree, who is
giving us a big thumbs up from the table.
"She said that guy reminds her of a barracuda and told
me I had to rescue you."
I giggle. "Well, she's not wrong, but I was trying to
find out something he was saying about my dad doing a Burke deal in—wait a
second, you're dancing," I realize, almost tripping over my own feet as I
look down at his.
"Eyes up," Carter says, his lips twitching.
"My mom taught me when I was a kid."
"I see," I say, swallowing hard as our eyes meet.
I pull back a little to leave more space between our bodies, though I can't do
anything about his hand on my back. "And you're OK? You know, being in a crowd
and everything?"
He nods. "It's more spread out here, plus the security
team and I did a background check on everyone in attendance."
"Holy shit. You guys are intense," I murmur. I
glance over as my father leads Anne to a different part of the dance floor.
He's not a great dancer, too stiff, but he's serviceable. "I think he
actually loves her," I comment.
"That surprises you?"
"Well, I don't think he ever really loved my
mother."
"How could you know that?"
"I went to grade school with a couple of the kids of
people he worked with at Burke. They told me how their parents talked about how
my dad married my mom to get ahead at the company. You know, getting in with
the boss's daughter. "
"They were just kids."
"I looked it up when I was older. He rose from a middle
manager to vice president remarkably quickly, and when my mom's father died, he
was named CEO."
"Why not your mom?"
"She was never completely stable, though of course she got
worse after I was born."
"Bree told me how she died. I hope that's
alright." I nod, unable to speak for a moment as a ball of tears rises in
my throat. I know intellectually that my mom's postpartum depression is really
to blame for her suicide, but I'll never be able to feel completely blameless.
After all, it was my birth that triggered her illness. "You look beautiful
tonight."
"You're just saying that," I manage to whisper.
"No. Though I mean it purely factually and
platonically."
"I look factually beautiful?"
"Yes. It is a fact."
"Well, you look factually handsome."
"You don't prefer a tux?" Carter asks, nodding
smugly toward William, who is currently sitting back at our table and talking
to Jack.
"I prefer focusing on school," I reply, stepping
away from him to applaud the band as the song ends. "Thanks for the
dance," I add coolly before walking back to the table. Spending any more
time so close to Carter would be dangerous.
Chapter Twenty-One
I punch the numbers into the spreadsheet again. I'm going to
have to ask my dad for some money, is what it comes down to. Some of the other
rich kids I grew up with had a trust fund to look forward to when they hit
twenty-one, but not me. I know that I could ask Jack for money, but I don't
want to make him responsible for me. He's always been so careful with his
money, living off his signing bonuses so he doesn't even have to touch his base
salary. It's OK to ask your father for money for college, people do it all
the time , I remind myself.
Maybe I can return some of the Christmas presents I got for
cash. That cashmere sweater that my father's assistant picked out as his gift
to me must be worth something. But it would really be a drop in the bucket
compared to the cost of tuition. I'm just going to ask. And if he says no,
fine. I'll just leave it at that. It can't hurt to ask.
I gather my papers, knowing my father appreciates people
"Right, that's him. And why exactly would—" I
break off as Carter appears at our elbow.
"Mind if I cut in?" he asks.
"Well—" William begins reluctantly.
"Thanks," Carter interrupts, and holds out his
hand to me. I smile at William and take Carter's hand.
"You sure it won't look weird for us to dance
together?" I murmur to Carter as William walks away, looking a bit peeved.
"Bree made me," he replies.
"She made you?" I glance over at Bree, who is
giving us a big thumbs up from the table.
"She said that guy reminds her of a barracuda and told
me I had to rescue you."
I giggle. "Well, she's not wrong, but I was trying to
find out something he was saying about my dad doing a Burke deal in—wait a
second, you're dancing," I realize, almost tripping over my own feet as I
look down at his.
"Eyes up," Carter says, his lips twitching.
"My mom taught me when I was a kid."
"I see," I say, swallowing hard as our eyes meet.
I pull back a little to leave more space between our bodies, though I can't do
anything about his hand on my back. "And you're OK? You know, being in a crowd
and everything?"
He nods. "It's more spread out here, plus the security
team and I did a background check on everyone in attendance."
"Holy shit. You guys are intense," I murmur. I
glance over as my father leads Anne to a different part of the dance floor.
He's not a great dancer, too stiff, but he's serviceable. "I think he
actually loves her," I comment.
"That surprises you?"
"Well, I don't think he ever really loved my
mother."
"How could you know that?"
"I went to grade school with a couple of the kids of
people he worked with at Burke. They told me how their parents talked about how
my dad married my mom to get ahead at the company. You know, getting in with
the boss's daughter. "
"They were just kids."
"I looked it up when I was older. He rose from a middle
manager to vice president remarkably quickly, and when my mom's father died, he
was named CEO."
"Why not your mom?"
"She was never completely stable, though of course she got
worse after I was born."
"Bree told me how she died. I hope that's
alright." I nod, unable to speak for a moment as a ball of tears rises in
my throat. I know intellectually that my mom's postpartum depression is really
to blame for her suicide, but I'll never be able to feel completely blameless.
After all, it was my birth that triggered her illness. "You look beautiful
tonight."
"You're just saying that," I manage to whisper.
"No. Though I mean it purely factually and
platonically."
"I look factually beautiful?"
"Yes. It is a fact."
"Well, you look factually handsome."
"You don't prefer a tux?" Carter asks, nodding
smugly toward William, who is currently sitting back at our table and talking
to Jack.
"I prefer focusing on school," I reply, stepping
away from him to applaud the band as the song ends. "Thanks for the
dance," I add coolly before walking back to the table. Spending any more
time so close to Carter would be dangerous.
Chapter Twenty-One
I punch the numbers into the spreadsheet again. I'm going to
have to ask my dad for some money, is what it comes down to. Some of the other
rich kids I grew up with had a trust fund to look forward to when they hit
twenty-one, but not me. I know that I could ask Jack for money, but I don't
want to make him responsible for me. He's always been so careful with his
money, living off his signing bonuses so he doesn't even have to touch his base
salary. It's OK to ask your father for money for college, people do it all
the time , I remind myself.
Maybe I can return some of the Christmas presents I got for
cash. That cashmere sweater that my father's assistant picked out as his gift
to me must be worth something. But it would really be a drop in the bucket
compared to the cost of tuition. I'm just going to ask. And if he says no,
fine. I'll just leave it at that. It can't hurt to ask.
I gather my papers, knowing my father appreciates people
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