3
Free champagne had the amazing side effect of increasing my ability to not give a fuck. My chest felt like it had been hollowed and a spindly black demon had crawled inside, but with every sip of alcohol, I could slowly forget why I felt like utter shit.
A tiny voice inside of my mind wanted to shy away from the crowd of peacocks and womanly waifs. I wore a mask on my face, hot pink and covered in feathers to resemble a flamingo. It complimented my dress perfectly, surrounded by a halo of heavy dark mahogany waves.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I imagined that the crowd were my peers and that I was worthy of standing amongst them despite my net worth being approximately a hundred dollars.
I'd taken a picture of the champagne table for my Instagram account. I couldn’t decide which hashtags to use.
Rina's dress was red lace couture. A poufy ball gown with matching gloves that went up to her elbow. She wore combat boots underneath, and when she descended the stairs as we arrived, she had made a point of hiking up her skirt to show the entire room her inappropriate footwear.
The string quartet played a chirpy number that I didn’t recognise. I stared down at the bubbles rising to the top of my glass with a vested interest.
“My mother brought the string quartet all the way from New York for the occasion.” A male voice came from behind me. My body locked up and the only thing that worked was my drink slinging arm.
I downed the rest of my champagne and put the flute on a passing tray.
I turned around very slowly and my eyes met his. Blue like the sky on a winter's day, and hair as black as ink on white paper.
His mask was leather, hooked on the nose to create the illusion of a tapered down plague doctor. I’d recognise the smug tilt of his lips anywhere, even with his face hidden.
Elliot fucking Gold.
I made a noncommittal hum in the back of my throat and my eyes flicked elsewhere to search for an escape or more champagne. I quickly discovered that I was boxed in as people paired off and began to dance as if they'd been choreographed. Elliot dipped his body and wrapped one arm around my waist, effectively spinning me and dancing with me without my permission. My feet tripped over themselves, unable to keep up with his fancy footwork.
He was a head taller than me. Imposing. He smelt like expensive cologne.
This place is a dive.
I can feel my IQ dropping just being here.
You’d be in a shitty mood if you had to watch your brother flirt with a waitress of questionable intelligence. She’s smiling, for sure. But you can tell, the wheel’s turning but the hamster is dead.
I found my strength, despite my momentary paralysis. I gripped the top of Elliott’s arms and pushed him away. I wore a gown that cost more than most people earned in a year and suddenly I warranted attention? What a pompous jerk!
I cocked my head to the side, as if I was surveying prey and my eyes narrowed as I took him in.
Elliot pulled his hand from my waist, but his lips had a confident tilt to them as he studied me as intently as I did him.
“Do you see something that you like?” he said in a low timbre that made my stomach churn.
I both shrank back and blossomed under his gaze. I stared for a long second as my lady bits did the tango, despite the fact that the man was a horse's ass.
“No.” I said, my voice was surprisingly firm. I turned and walked away without another word.
Rina found me on the balcony, listening to the low hum of conversation inside. My elbows rested against the stone wall as I surveyed the endless garden below. The sun had set hours before, and darkness swathed the expansive manicured lawns.
Hedges twisted to the left, dipping into a maze that I could clearly see from above.
“Having fun?” Rina chuckled, as she rested her butt against the ledge.
I shrugged and lifted my empty champagne flute in salutation.
“My father has introduced me to no less than ten suitors. My favourite was when he simply said, “Ted Flannigan? This is my wayward daughter. I’m hoping to marry her off before she gets into any more trouble.” Rina snorted and rolled her eyes. “If a tattoo of a fox on my wrist is 'trouble', imagine dad's face if I developed a heroin addiction?”
A startled laugh burst from my lips and I was unable to control it. “Maybe you should start leaving dirty spoons in your bathrooms. And a belt. Don’t forget the belt.”
“That would give him a scare, wouldn’t it?” Rina smirked. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and pulled me into an unexpected embrace. She smelt like flowers and vodka.
“I saw Elliot Gold earlier.” I said, once she'd let go. “What a douche nozzle.”
“He’s not so bad. He just has no filter.” Rina allowed. “He rarely speaks, but when he does, then it's never good.”
“Maybe he should keep his mouth shut.”
“Funny.” Rina said. “Julian said the same thing.”
“How is the manwhore of the Bois?” I asked.
Rina shrugged and an unknown emotion passed over her eyes like a shadow. “Same as always.”
“Maybe you could just marry Julian?” I suggested. “Your dad loves him. His infidelity wouldn’t matter because your marriage would be fake.”
Rina stayed silent as my words sunk in. I pushed away from the balcony and declared my intent to pee. Rina followed.
Rina had been in Gold Manor many times. She led me away from the first floor restrooms and up a flight of stairs.
As our heels clicked against the marble floors, the sound of raised voices from the end of the corridor floated down to our location.
“You’re paranoid, Elliot!” I heard a female voice hiss. I put my hand out and halted Rina before we turned the corner.
“Am I?” Elliot drawled.
“I saw you with that girl on the dance floor. Flirting. I know you're not committed to me. What does it matter if I'm married?”
I took a step back and pulled Rina back with me.
“That’s Sarah Mallory!” My best friend hissed, her voice was a whisper.
I shrugged, feeling dirty about the small snippet of gossip in which we'd stumbled. I felt a sharp pain hit my ribs as my heart grew three times its normal size. I rubbed my chest to alleviate the pain.
Was I jealous?
I snorted a laugh to myself. Maybe it rubbed me the wrong way that he'd flirted with me not an hour before. Elliot Gold clearly had his hands in a married woman's panties.
“I know what you did, babe.” Elliot snarled the term of endearment. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I’m not leaving!” Sarah shrieked hysterically.
“You need to go.” Elliot replied.
I don’t know what made me do it, but I loosened my hand from Rina's grip and rounded the corner with a determined set on my shoulders and a bright smile. Rina hid behind the corner with her fist in her mouth to stop herself from laughing.
“Elliot, honey.” I cooed as I encountered the wide eyes of the arguing couple. “Your mother asked me to fetch you.” I looped my arm with Elliot's, as it belonged there and smiled indulgently to the red-faced peroxide blonde.
Sarah Mallory had fixed her gap tooth since the last time I had seen her, but her narrow nose and high cheekbones were model perfect. Her eyes glittered with the kind of ice that I imagined serial killers had. She’s always been cold in a way that I couldn’t explain. She was bones and jagged angles just like I was. I could see her collarbone and I knew that she wasn't eating right. I felt a flash of anger. I was skinny. You could count my ribs. But to have money and to still starve?
Elliot ‘Iceman’ Gold was her perfect match, because the look in her eyes was positively glacial.
I glanced at the man of the hour out of the corner of my eye. His expression twitched into one of amusement. Play along, I tried to silently communicate with a wink.
“I’m Pepper.” I said, extending my arm out to shake her hand. I used the name that Rina had put on the guest list. “Soon to be, Pepper Gold. We're engaged. Aren't we, honey?”
“Yes, dear.” Elliot's voice was amused.
Sarah's eyes narrowed as she took in my dress, right down to the flamingo mask that rested over my nose. The same mask that was not coming off until I was at home in bed.
“We’ve got to get going.” I said as I patted Elliot on the chest. “I trust you can find your own way out?”
Her face flushed red, the same crimson shade that I remembered from school.
“Do I know you?” She said through gritted teeth. “You’re very familiar.”
My smile did not dim. “My name is Pepper Potts. I work at Stark Industries. You tell me.” Inside I was cackling and hoping to God that she'd never watched Iron Man.
Her green eyes narrowed but she eyed me with malice instead of suspicion.
Sarah clenched her fists and her jaw rocked from side to side as she ground her teeth. I stared, impassive, as the box blonde turned on her heels and marched away. Her skin-tight black gown swished against her curves as she marched away.
I patted Elliot on the shoulder and began to walk away as soon as she was out of sight.
I made it five steps before he tried to stop me.
“Wait!” He called after me. “Pepper!”
I did not look back but found my steps halted as he gripped the top of my shoulder. I froze and had to take a deep breath.
Calm down. He's not going to hurt you.
“Yes?” I crooked an eyebrow, even though I knew he couldn’t see it from behind the mask.
“I just wanted to thank you for that.” The words pushed past his lips. “Although it’s obvious that you’re not my type, I think she bought it.”
“Not your type?” I echoed in disbelief.
“It was not meant as an insult. I prefer women with large breasts. It’s a well-known fact.”
“Do you want me to go and get Sarah Mallory and let her know that?” I asked lightly.
Elliot looked down his nose at me, as if he was trying to decide if I was serious of not. “Please don’t.” He said stiffly.
We eyed each other like two lions circling and sizing each other up.
I had no idea why I’d leapt to his rescue. Sarah Mallory was vicious. After his insulting words in the diner, I should have just left him to deal with her. And her claws.
“Have we met before?” Elliot queried with suspicion.
“Yes.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
Elliot rubbed the back of his neck, his lips twisted awkwardly. “Really?”
“On the dancefloor, don’t you remember?” I said sweetly.
“You know what I mean.”
“Please let go of my shoulder, Mr Gold.”
“Stern. I like it.”
I eyed him shrewdly and looked for tell-tale signs of insincerity. He was genuine. Which was annoying.
“Can I buy you a drink?” Elliot suggested.
I shrugged. “It’s an open bar.”
“I have a bottle of Chateau Lefite that I’ve been saving for a special occasion in the study. Would you join me?”
I looked down to my gown and then back into his crystalline blue irises. His raven, black hair was slicked it back carefully. He was clean-cut. All American. Sex in a suit. So unlike his brothers. So unlike any of the men that Mama brought around.
Since I had first laid eyes on Elliot Gold, I had focused on looking at him as little as possible. I was not on his level and I never would be. But somehow I felt brave as I stood in a designer dress with a mask covering my face.
I nodded slowly and Elliot urged me forward into the confines of the Gold manor and away from the sounds of the party downstairs.
“Are you not enjoying the festivities?” Elliot asked in a low tone. “Is the party not to your liking?”
“I was searching for the bathroom.”
He clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “What do you do at Stark Industries?”
I searched my mind for what Pepper, the fictional character, actually did. Apart from bone Tony Stark. “Personal Assistant.” I think.
Elliot nodded to himself. “How much of my conversation did you overhear?”
“Just enough to know that you didn’t want that woman here.” I shrugged.
“Fending off the competition?” He narrowed his eyes.
“Something like that.”
“You’re really familiar.” He said as he studied the pink feathers of my mask. “Could you take off your mask? I want to see your face.”
“Isn’t it more fun if you don’t?”
“I suppose.” His tone was thoughtful.