Page 35 of The Ring
Laurie rolls his eyes. “You know what you two need? A timeout, since you’ve been acting like children these past two weeks,” he says before walking away.
I chug my drink and turn to the bartender to order another bourbon.
I look for Cornelia, and I find her immediately. She’s now sitting at a table, watching the few people on the dance floor. She loves to dance and to watch others do it. I love watching her, but I don’t get to do it as often now, so I relish these moments. I could spend hours watching her without ever getting tired.
“She is pretty, isn’t she?” Cornelia’s grandmother says. I don’t know how long she has been standing beside me.
I smile. “She is.”
Butprettydoesn’t even cut it—there aren’t enough words in the world to describe her beauty.
“You should invite her to dance,” Odette tells me.
I turn to look at her. “Me?”
She looks around. “I don’t see anyone else here.”
“Doesn’t all your family hate me?” Hate is a strong word, but I’m pretty sure their feelings for me fall somewhere in that neighbourhood.
“No,” she says, looking puzzled by my question. “What gave you that impression?”
I was about to mention what happened between her ex-daughter-in-law and me, but I decided to spare myself the distress and disgust it would cause to say those words. We’re enjoying a nice moment, and I don’t want to spoil it. Besides,there’s no way she isn’t aware. This entire party is a PR stunt to smooth over what occurred.
So, I say, “The last time I saw Anthony, I’m pretty sure he wanted to punch me.”
“You can’t blame him. He and Cornelia have a…specialrelationship. She’s probably the person he loves most in the world, and as twisted as the whole thing was, you did hurt her.”
No joke, Anthony is like a weird mix between a father and a brother to her. They have a somewhat normal relationship now, but you should have seen them during her high school years—they were a real mess. I suppose that’s what happens when someone you see as your equal becomes your superior. I wouldn’t have taken kindly to my brother bossing me around or trying to discipline me either.
“If I hurt her, then why do you want me anywhere near her?” I inquire.
“Believe it or not, I’m an excellent judge of character, and I believe whatever happened, you didn’t do it with the intention of hurting her,” she replies cryptically. She often says things like this, as if she knows more than she’s letting on. Cornelia calls it just part of her eccentricity, but I’m not so sure.
“Is it because of my last name?” I couldn’t help asking, as this isn’t the first time she’s pushed someone in Cornelia’s direction who isn’t exactly outstanding just because of who their family is.
“No, of course not,” Odette says, sounding a little offended. “People, especially young people, like to think that doesn’t matter, but it does. But if that was why I was doing it, I could just ask your brother or your cousin, for that matter, who is clearly in love with her.”
Am I the last one to find out he is in love with her?
“Are you going to ask her to dance, boy, or should I find your cousin instead?” sheadds.
“I will.”
I’ll happily use any excuse to be near Cornelia, but if I’m going to do this, I want it to be perfect—something she can’t possibly turn down. So, there’s one thing I need to do first.
“Just do me a favour,” Odette says. “Next time you feel the urge to start a fight with your cousin or somebody else, do it in private or, at the very least, keep Cornelia out of it.”
“Sure thing,” I assure her.
Chapter 19
Cornelia
My paternal grandmother isn’t your typical comforting, cookie-baking grandmother like you see in the movies. She’s not exactly comforting at all. And she probably doesn’t even know how to bake cookies, but she sure as hell knows how to throw a good party.
The entire estate is adorned with hundreds of thousands of candles, making it look like a scene from a period drama. A live orchestra performs in the ballroom, and a Michelin-star chef has been flown in to cater the event. She arranged transport for all guests who needed it, whether by helicopter or chauffeur, and for a select few, she offered accommodation in one of the 46 bedrooms—although technically, there are 81 rooms; only 46 are suitable for guests to stay in. Everyone who is anyone is here—the place is packed with Fortune 500 CEOs, celebrities, and politicians.
There isn’t a real reason for the party, but nobody questions it. No one would pass up the opportunity to come to my grandmother’s estate for a party thrown by her.
