Chapter Twenty–Seven
Putting On The Ritz
Charlotte knew it was selfish, but she really resented the party this evening. She wanted to spend every last minute with Jordan before it was time to go home tomorrow afternoon and go back to real life. And now she had to force herself into some super tight flouncy dress and be social with a bunch of strangers who were going to congratulate her on exactly the thing she could never have. She shoved down the quiet hope that maybe she could have something with Jordan, something special. It was nothing but a stupid pipe dream. He didn’t even know her real name. She rubbed her tattoo. He thought she had a dog named Rufus. She knew the moment Jordan discovered the web of lies she’d wrapped around her, they’d be finished. He was too straight-forward and straight-laced to do anything else. And she couldn’t blame him; she’d do the same in his position.
She clung to him on the floor of the hide, ignoring the dust and the splinters, until he told her they had to leave or they’d miss the party completely. And even then, she was tempted to pull him back down on top of her, to stay in the abandoned hide where it was only the two of them until the sun went down and the stars came out.
When they arrived back at the mansion, Lauren and George were waiting. George was in his dinner suit and Lauren wore a sparkling white dress that was more lace than fabric. The neckline plunged down to her waist and the skirt ended at the top of her thighs, with sheer netting falling down to her ankles. The dress literally left nothing to the imagination: Charlotte had bathing suits that covered more flesh. But she didn’t have time to stare longer.
“Where have you been,” snapped George. “Lauren was worried sick. And look at you!” He was staring at Charlotte. She looked down to find her expensive blouse and slacks covered with dead leaves and sawdust. It wasn’t exactly obvious what they’d been doing out in the forest, but it wasn’t really her greatest look. “I’ll get changed now,” she said and ran up the stairs.
Jordan’s father’s voice followed her up the stairs. “People arriving in less than an hour” and “looking like something the cat dragged in” and then thankfully she could only hear the rumble of his deep voice and not the words themselves. She could get ready in half an hour, it wasn’t an issue, but she knew that wasn’t actually the point. George thought Jordan should get a pretty little trophy wife to hang on his arm who never got messy and always looked 100% presentable. She ran through the shower and then combed out her hair angrily, tempted to go downstairs in her jeans and t-shirt. But that would just upset Jordan, too, and she couldn’t ruin his reputation with the neighbors.
She pulled out her dress: a glossy purple off-the-shoulder dress drawn tight around the waist with a corded belt and then flared out into a beaded skirt of green leaves and cream flowers. It was by some fashion designer she’d never heard of but the woman at the shop said it looked amazing to her. The truth was, she’d never owned anything so fine in her life and although she hadn’t planned to spend all of Jordan’s clothes money on things she would probably never put on again, she couldn’t resist. She wore high-heeled cream sandals with fuchsia beads on the strap that reached from toe to ankle. She probably wouldn’t be able to walk in the morning but as she slipped them on, she knew it was worth it.
She pulled her hair back and put on a pair of fake gold earrings that accented the gold clasp of the belt. She’d been up there twenty-five minutes. She took a deep breath. No point in rushing further, they wouldn’t be impressed if she was early. Besides, she wasn’t going back down until it was time. She sat at the dressing table and began putting on makeup, hoping the process would sooth the tremor in her fingers.
She could hear Jordan bounding up the stairs three at a time and took a deep breath to steady herself. This might be their last night together and she knew he was nervous about what she was going to wear. She stood to face him as he walked through the door. She wanted him to be proud of her.
His reaction was all she could hope for. He stared, a slow smile spreading over his lips. “You look stunning,” he said. “That’s an amazing dress. I won’t lie, I wasn’t sure you could pull it off. I was a fool.” He kissed her then, gently at first, and then with more passion, before pulling reluctantly away. “And I have to get ready in ten minutes flat or my father will never let me forget it. It’s bad enough I’m stealing his thunder with the most beautiful woman in the party.” He nuzzled her bare neck where her hair was pulled back. “It’s only a cocktail affair, they won’t stay long,” he whispered.
Charlotte flushed. “Stop being silly and go get showered,” she said in a hoarse voice.
“I can’t kiss you once you’ve finished your makeup,” he said, trailing his tongue along her lips. And then to her disappointment he was gone, disappearing into the bathroom.
She’d actually finished her makeup but she took a long look in the mirror and then added a bright lipstick and darkened the eye shadows around her eyes. Was that enough? She applied another layer of mascara, but it didn’t give her Lauren’s unreal mile-long lashes. It just made her lashes clump together, looking cartoonish. All of this ornamental stuff was a lot harder than it looked. The next thing she knew, Jordan was pulling on his waist coat and telling her it was time to go.
The two of them made it to the lounge as the first guests were still taking their coats off. “Jordan, so good to see you! And who is this pretty little thing?”
Charlotte made it through multiple versions of introductions, the names of the family friends and neighbors falling out of her brain faster than she could process them.
“Isn’t that a cute dress,” said Lauren, as she handed out glasses of champagne to everyone. She leaned forward with a whisper. “Here’s a tip for you: don’t wear bright colors. It looks as if you are trying too hard.” And then with a flounce of her sheer dress, she was gone.
Charlotte swallowed. She was trying too hard. She didn’t belong with these people, in this world. She sipped at her champagne carefully. She didn’t drink much at the best of times but champagne always made her brash and emotional, which was exactly what she needed not to be tonight.
More and more people came. Then as if there had been some sort of signal, people started shuffling around and leaving the foyer. Something was happening and she had no idea what. After a moment, it became clear the men were retreating towards George’s study while the women moved to the front room. Jordan came to her side to whisper in her ear. “Cigars and man talk,” he said. “We’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Well, this was going to be fun. It was positively Victorian, the men and the women splitting up so the men could be uncouth at each other without fear of offending delicate ears. And lucky Charlotte got to hang out with a bunch of strangers she had nothing in common with.
Maybe Lauren would lay off a bit with all the other women there. And maybe pigs would come flying in the window to offer them some bacon instead of the broccoli bites Lauren had laid out as what she called a “delightful snack”. Or maybe Charlotte should just down this expensive champagne in hopes of it helping her to make it through the party.
She restrained herself, only allowing herself a wry smile before she sat down to talk to the ladies. She could handle this, she knew she could. She kept the smile on her face and started listening in on conversations, throwing in questions here and there. Soon, she found herself in a middle of the group. Most of the women were talking loudly; everyone liked having someone around who was listening for a change.
Lauren actually did seem content to leave Charlotte alone, for once. Maybe she appreciated the help? Certainly, she kept coming over and topping up Charlotte’s drink even though she’d barely drank anything yet. Charlotte took another sip.
She didn’t like to think about Jordan in the study, sipping his brandy and smoking a cigar. The good old boys, hanging out, saving the world. Meanwhile, the women were expected to just hang around, be ornamental, and discuss the periphery of their lives. She loved being with Jordan, felt alive around him, but she didn’t like feeling like her job was to hang on his arm and look pretty. Even if the rich clothes and pretty perfumes were entrancing, it wasn’t who she was. It wasn’t who she wanted to be.
She nodded helpfully at a woman in a peach dress and matching hat, telling her about the charity event that Charlotte really must attend next week. The old woman was as dull as a butter knife. Charlotte nodded and put her champagne down. It was going to her head and she really needed to slow down.
The charity was for a children’s hospital, which seemed like a nice thing to collect money for, but all the woman talked about was the upcoming gala, dinner and dancing for $500 a head followed by a charity auction. “We’ve actually got a cruise that’s been donated,” she said, leaning forward conspiratorially as if anyone were there to listen in, as if anyone would care. “And some lovely paintings by Violet Ventura, the artist that’s moved in next to the Smith’s old house. I don’t care for them myself, much too much bare flesh. But I’m told they are verrrrry popular among the younger set.” She nodded at Charlotte, who was apparently a representative of the younger set. “You really must attend, my dear.”
Charlotte hid her response by reaching for her glass and took another sip of her drink. “I don’t think I’ll be here for that, I’m afraid,” she said. “I live in Riverside.”
“Oh, but only during the week, surely. I’m sure young Jordan can bring you here for the weekend. It’d be such a shame to miss it. And all his young friends will be there.”
“Jordan hadn’t mentioned his young friends here...” She was embarrassed she’d mumbled the words aloud.
“Don’t be silly! There’s Richard, he’s known Jordan there forever. And Susan and Mimi will be thrilled to see him again.”
“Darling, definitely,” said Lauren, her familiar catty smile flashed towards Charlotte. “Although maybe a little less thrilled to meet dear Charlotte, I think. Mimi still has her hopes up.”
“Oh, hahahaha.” The old woman seemed to find the entire conversation hilarious, although she said the words rather than actually laughing. “Yes, well, girls will be girls. You’ll have a grand time, Charlotte, I’m sure of it.”
Charlotte furrowed her brow. It didn’t sound like a grand time at all. Even this “tiny affair” of Lauren’s was completely exhausting. She was most relieved when she heard the rumbling of male voices outside, apparently a signal that it was time for the women to mingle with the men once again. Certainly, the women all immediately stood and made their way back out of the sitting room.
Maybe they were just as desperate as Charlotte to get the hell out of there. Charlotte couldn’t imagine living like this. As she returned to the foyer, she saw Jordan coming out of the study and felt a rush of affection. He was deep in conversation, though, and didn’t notice her.
She quickly took a sip of her drink and pasted the smile back onto her face. She didn’t want Jordan to see that she couldn’t fit in.
She turned to the woman in the peach hat and laughed gaily. “I’m sure it will be wonderful to meet Mimi,” she said. “I’d love to attend. I can hardly wait.” For the first time, she could see the bright side of the fact that she was unlikely to ever come to Haven again.