Page 66 of The Ring
I’m very aware of that. She doesn’t need me to get a massage, and I can wager with full confidence sheknows I made up the whole thing about the certificate. We’re planning a game—one we’ve played before—but I’m willing to play it again if it gets me the same result as the last time. I hope it does.
“Well, I wish you good luck with your endeavour,” West says before turning and heading out of my room.
Chapter 36
Cornelia
It’s incredible how something I remember being mind-numbingly dull can somehow be even more boring than I recall. But that’s exactly what going back to work was. On the bright side, I have a lot of gifts from my party waiting for me to open them as a reward.
The last four days I have spent with TJ. It was probably a mistake, but it’s the mistake I’ve most enjoyed making.
I knew I was having too much fun. I had a room full of gifts, many with diamonds, and I hadn’t opened a single one.
TJ headed home in the morning when I went to the office with Anthony, but he’s coming back to get me later to go get a massage.
I know. I know. I know. I shouldn’t do it, but I can’t help it. It’s just so easy to fall back into that routine. I don’t think I can ever move past what happened, but not having him in my life has been torture. Maybe being just friends is better than being nothing at all. We were friends once. We can be friends again, though we were never really friends; though he was my best friend.
As I start unwrapping the gifts, it becomes painfully clear I’m only looking for one. So much so, I tear through the wrappings, not even bothering to make a list of who gave me what for thank-you notes—something Anthony is absolutely going to admonish me about later.
When I get to the last gift and see it isn’t from TJ, a wave of disappointment hits me. We weren’t on good terms before my party, but I still had hoped he’d send me something. This would be the first birthday since I’ve known him that he hasn’t gotten me anything. Even last Christmas, when things were worse between us, he sent a gift. And I sent him one.
I pick up some of the wrapping from the floor, trying to tidy the living room a little—which is a mess of gifts, bags, and wrapping paper—and to see if I can still remember who sent what. But with two hundred gifts, I doubt I’ll be able to recall even half. I quickly give up and begin actually looking at the gifts.
My attention is immediately drawn to a necklace that looks antique but isn’t. It has a design resembling hieroglyphs, with a large emerald at the centre, likely around four carats, and it’s from a brand named Darius Jewels. It had caught my eye earlier while I was opening the gifts, but since it didn’t come with a note from TJ, I put it aside and continued unwrapping.
I examine it closely and see an engraving on the back. It reads: “A jewel for the most beautiful jewel of all.”
Immediately, I know it’s from TJ.Jewelwas the pet name he used to call me—more specifically,my jewel.But only sporadically, as I find it extremely cheeky. But he tended to engrave that phrase in a lot of the jewellery he gifted me.
Maybe I was too quick to dismiss the theory of TJ having an evil twin. How else could someone do the sweetest things yet still have hurt me the way he did?
Chapter 37
Cornelia
West’s masquerade party at his nightclub is legendary. It happens once a year during spring break and is one of the most coveted invitations of the season. Part of its allure comes from the party’s notorious reputation and the sheer number of celebrities who attend.
There’s something about wearing a mask and believing nobody knows who you are that brings out people’s wildest nature. I saybelievingbecause, if you truly know someone, you can recognise them even with a mask on.
This year, West added a little more spice by making it a black-and-white party, with the masks being strictly opera style.
I’m wearing a vintage Chanel off-white dress—the same one Lily Collins wore as a debutante atLe Bal des Débutantesin 2007. It isn’t my usual type of dress; normally, I’d go for something in black at a black-and-white party. But that’s the point—to be a different person for a while.
Because of that, I opt for minimal jewellery. I’m just wearing my everyday Jessica McCormack ring and platinum vintage Pragnell earrings with diamonds. I am wearing whiteJimmy Choo heels, a white clutch by Jimmy Choo, and a white opera mask to match the dress, with my hair styled in an updo to complete the look.
After having a few pictures snapped by the paparazzi outside, I step into West’s club, and it’s exactly what I expected from him. The whole place feels like it’s from another era—in the best way possible. Towers of champagne are scattered throughout the room, and exotic dancers dangle gracefully from the ceiling.
I came alone. TJ had asked if I wanted us to come together, but with all the paparazzi outside, why give the press something to write about? So, I used that as the excuse for why it was more convenient for us to come separately.
I do a turn around the room, talk to some people, and then make my way to the bar to order a drink.
As I stand waiting, I spot Annabelle walking in my direction. I know it’s her because she sent me a photo of the dress she’s wearing—a satin black dress with lace details. And she’s holding a black mask on a stick that doesn’t cover much of her face.
I turn around and try to make myself smaller, hoping she hasn’t recognised me and that she just happened to be coming to the bar. But my hopes are shattered when she taps my shoulder and says, “Found you.”
I didn’t tell her what I was wearing, saying it was more fun this way so she could find me. But the real reason was that I had been avoiding her.
I’ve been spending a lot of time with TJ—and when I say a lot, I mean alot—and she’s the only one who could call me out on it and actually get me to listen at this point.
