Page 116 of Scandal
What is wrong? And why won’t you talk to me about it?
“Are you okay?”
He gives me a once-over, his gaze briefly lingering on my lips. He looks at me as if it almost hurts. Then he straightens, and a mask of formality settles over him. “Why is Isobel coming over tonight?”
I’m momentarily taken aback by his abrupt tone. “Because I asked her to. We’re having a girls’ night, remember? You were going to get us takeout.”
His lips part as if he has no recollection of the conversation, but then he nods. “It must have slipped my mind. But I’m afraid tonight will not do. I’ll have one of the staff call to cancel on your behalf.”
“What?” I turn in my seat. “Why?”
He tries to act nonchalant, but I can see his hesitation. “It’s short notice. The chef will be unprepared and?—”
“It’s been on the calendar for over a week.”
He turns away from me. His shoulders rise as he inhales a heavy breath, then slowly lets it out.
“What is going on, Ash? We’ve barely spoken this week, and this clearly isn’t about Isobel. Why have all of our calendar events been canceled? Is your father?—”
“He’s fine,” he clips out.
“Then what is it?”
He turns to meet my gaze with that same distracted expression he walked in with. “It’s nothing. We can talk later. Go enjoy your evening. I’m just going to go check on a few things.”
Then he walks out, and I’m left wondering where we go from here.
I know I don’t have much experience with girls’ nights, but I can say with absolute certainty that this one is a total shitshow.
After Isobel apologized at the garden party, I hoped we might become friends. But tonight is proving that we are two very different people.
“Hellooo?” Her words slur as she waves her glass at Niall for the fourth time, not because he’s inattentive but because she’s that demanding. “You, sir! Can I have another glass of wine? God knows I deserve it after the hassle your security detail put me through to get into this place.”
I sneak a glance at Evie, whose deadpan expression tells me exactly what she’s thinking—that there isn’t enough overtime in the world to make this worth it.
Isobel has only been here for an hour, and she’s already drunk. Now that I think about it, she might have been a little tipsy when she arrived.
Niall walks over and politely pours her another glass of red wine from an expensive-looking bottle, and she rolls her eyes. I thought the countess was snooty when I first arrived, but at least she treats her staff with care and respect. Isobel is just outright rude.
“You forgot to thank him,” I say. My heart is already racing a mile a minute. I may dislike confrontation, but I hate seeing people treated poorly more.
Her dark-brown eyes abruptly lift to meet mine. “I’m sorry?”
I know she doesn’t mean it as an apology, but I don’t care. “Those words should be directed toward Niall, not me.”
Niall looks taken aback. Evie seems mildly amused, as if that overtime just became a little more worthwhile.
She scoffs. “He’s a butler.”
“And?”
Another eye roll, but she manages to mutter, “Thank you for the wine.” Then she turns her attention to me, slowly swirling that glass of pinot noir in her palm like one of those cheap Magic 8 Balls. “You really are as strange as the papers make you out to be, aren’t you?”
My brow furrows.Strange?“What do you mean?”
“There was that interview from your sister?—”
“My sister?” I nearly choke on my sparkling water. “My sister would never talk to the press about me.” And certainly not without telling me.
