“I have no idea why you are still in touch with that girl,” I hiss at Elliott as soon as Daisy decides enough is enough and leaves us to it.

“She’s an old friend. She’s really nice, such a go-getter. You’ll like her when you get to know her.”

I make a face that tells him, I’m not so sure about that. I get that I have to give his friends an opportunity with me, but she’s way too confident for my liking.

“Well, I’ll reserve my opinions until I’ve had a better chance to get to know her, but really, what kind of girl comes to a party on their own?”

“A confident one?” He really doesn’t seem to understand.

“She either doesn’t have any friends to bring along, or she expected to spend the night hanging off your arm.” I’m getting grumpy now and my brow furrows into a scowl. We both watch her sassy shape as she mingles among other attendees with ease. Her dark skin stands out against her fitted white dress. She looks the part, I’ll give him that. She has a figure to die for, and she’s elegant as sin.

“I don’t think so. Look at how she works the room. She’s a pro, a small social gathering like this is nothing to her.”

I don’t know why, but those words shoot through my heart like a bullet into a deer and the force of my response throws me off balance. Once again, I feel like an outsider in Elliott’s glamorous world. This huge house is crammed with guests and without even thinking, Elliott just called our party, small. This is the biggest bash I have ever thrown, or been invited to for that matter.

Maybe Daisy understands a world that I’ve not had access to. The thought makes my stomach churn. Elliott and I have been so caught up in each other and building our life, what if I only know a fraction of who he is? What if the other part rears its elegant, Daisy-like head, and I’ll learn he’s not who I believed he was in the same way I realized about Madeline?

I’m still eyeing Daisy. She laughs at something my uncle says, throwing back her head. Her white teeth glint under the low lighting, her stunning dark features alight with a vibrancy I know I will never possess and despite all my best intentions, I am jealous.

“How did she get in anyway?” I ask.

Elliott shrugs. “No idea, thought you were in charge of that?”

I shake my head. “See, not trustworthy.” I punch him lightly on the arm.

“Oh no, definitely not trustworthy. On that I agree.” He nods, taking the blow in good form.

Despite the tension when Daisy arrived, I’ve enjoyed my evening. I’ve managed to catch up with a lot of my closest friends and family who I don’t normally have time to see. I've also managed to keep one eye trained on Daisy.

Most visitors have dispersed now and I glance at my watch noticing it’s already the early hours. Daisy is still here (of course), perched on the edge of our new couch with one leg crossed under her ankle. She does amazingly well at maintaining her dignity in that fitted dress.

Maybe it’s the tiredness setting in, or the brandy, but I inhale every detail about her. How individual strands of her jet hair brush against her white collar and how her charcoal eyes which, I now notice are slightly hooded, appear to look down on you from beneath her long lashes.

She speaks, "A guy walks into a bar and asks the bartender, "What’s the quickest way to get to Chicago?"

The bartender says, "Are you walking or driving?"

The guy says, "I'm driving."

The bartender says, "That's the quickest way."

Elliott laughs. I don’t think he’s being polite; he’s actually laughing at her. I mean, who even tells jokes anymore? The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and I narrow my eyes, trying to figure this woman out. She's trying really hard to fit in and this whole experience is making me way too uncomfortable in my own home.