Will

 

Liz was late as usual. And when she arrived, Will wasted no time cornering her.

“Hey, we need to talk.”

“Hey, handsome. I’m happy to see you, too,” she crooned, trying to plant a kiss on his lips.

Will turned his face and gave her his cheek instead. Liz was with her usual crew of drama queens, Isabelle Spence and Paris Dillon. The last thing Will needed was those gossip girls blowing his conversation with Liz out of proportion and posting it all over social media. Last year they’d slut shamed a freshman girl for sleeping with Cranston to the point that she dropped out of St. James. It was total crap. Sleeping with Cranston was practically a badge of honor for girls at St. James. But apparently Paris had a thing for him so the poor freshman got the hazing of her life when they posted a video of her and Cranston getting it on.

That type of bullshit was the precise reason Will didn’t have any form of social media. He knew it didn’t stop the drama from happening, but it could at least keep him from getting dragged into it by not giving himself the option to participate.

Will grabbed Liz’s hand and started leading her away from her friends and their prying ears.

“Where are we going?” she asked, her voice flirty as ever.

“To talk.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere but here.”

“Aren’t you the man of mystery?”

Will could hear Isabelle and Paris giggling in the hall as he pulled Liz into one of the hotel suite’s many bedrooms and shut the door. But when he turned to face Liz, he knew instantly it’d been a mistake to bring her into a bedroom.

Emma

Walking into Cranston’s party made Emma feel like she’d never left New York. It seemed some things had stayed the same. Like the fact that Parker Cranston threw the best illicit parties in Manhattan. The festivities were in full swing and Cranston had outdone himself. The penthouse suite of his father’s swanky hotel had been transformed into a glittering wonderland of red and green, complete with DJ, strobe lights, mirrored dance floor and more mistletoe than Emma had ever seen before. The entire ceiling was draped with it.

Emma handed her coat and purse to the coat check girl, who was dressed as a very naughty elf, then scanned the party for Marcy. It was impossible to pick anyone out of the crowd. The only people that stuck out were the scantily clad cocktail waitresses wearing Santa hats and not much else. As Emma watched them carrying trays of decadent-looking martinis through the throngs of party goers, a shiver of déjà vu swept through her. Suddenly, it was junior year all over again and she was staring into a sea of familiar St. James faces, but only searching for one—Will.

Coming here had been a mistake. Emma retreated to the coat check and handed her ticket over. If she could retrieve her things quickly, she could disappear before anyone noticed her. Emma tapped her heel impatiently, while the naughty elf went in search of her things. What the hell was taking her so long?

Finally the girl returned and Emma thanked her, draping her purse and jacket over her arm in a hurry. She breathed a sigh of relief that no one had spotted her and spun on her heel ready to flee from the party. But then disaster struck—in the form of Parker Cranston. Emma slammed into his chest and nearly fell on her ass as a result. Cranston grinned at her, not even offering a hand to steady her. She dropped her purse, but managed to stay upright. He spoke as she bent to pick it up.

“Emma Rhodes. So nice of you to grace us with your presence,” Cranston drawled in his usual smarmy manner.

“Hey, Cranston.”

“You weren’t going to leave without saying hello, were you?” he asked, nodding to her jacket. “Although I hear that’s your MO.”

“No, I-I was just cold,” Emma stuttered.

Cranston raised a well-manicured finger lazily into the air and a cocktail waitress appeared at his side. He pulled two bright red martinis off the tray and handed one to Emma. “This will keep the chill away.”

“Oh, um, thanks.”

 Cranston draped his free hand around the waitress’s slim hips and began leading her away. But he paused and called back to Emma over his shoulder. “Be sure to say hello to your boyfriend before you disappear again. He really hates it when you leave without saying goodbye.”

Guilt bloomed in Emma’s stomach. “Will isn’t my boyfriend,” she called, but Cranston was already disappearing into the crowd. “He never was,” she whispered, letting the painful truth of her words sink in.

Yes, coming here had definitely been a mistake. Emma drained her martini and shrugged on her coat as the alcohol spread through her like liquid fire. It was cinnamon flavored and warmed her chest from the inside out, but did little to dull her despair. As she walked toward the elevator, Emma realized it would take a lot more than a few martinis to erase the sting of this awful holiday from her heart.

Just as the doors rolled open, Emma heard a shrill voice call her name.

“Emma Rhodes! You better not be ditching me!”

Emma turned to see Marcy Foy grinning at her. Her auburn hair was perfectly styled and her skintight black dress spoke volumes of her father’s flawless surgery skills. Marcy teetered closer in her towering stilettos and wrapped Emma in a tipsy hug before passing her one of the booze syringes she was clutching in her pale hands. They were Cranston’s specialty, and guaranteed to get you good and drunk.

“Drink up,” Marcy ordered. “You’ve got some catching up to do.”

Emma tried to protest, but Marcy was already downing her shot. She gave a full body shiver when she was done and howled. “Damn these are amazing. I really need to trick Cranston into giving me his secret recipe.”

Emma still clutched her plastic syringe of alcohol, staring longingly at the elevator doors as they closed without her inside.

Marcy was uncapping another shot when she noticed Emma wasn’t drinking hers. “Emma, drink up bitch.”

Emma exhaled, remembering why she’d never really gotten along with Marcy. The girl was bossy as hell, and when she was drunk it only magnified things.

“Actually, I think I’m gonna call it a night,” Emma replied.

“What? You just got here! And we haven’t even played Snip!”

“I don’t think I’m in the mood anymore.”

“Oh come on. Have one drink with me, Emma.”

Saying no was never Emma’s strong suit. She wavered as Marcy tugged on her hand with a pleading smile. Emma didn’t feel like partying with her old friends, or frienemies, for that matter. Especially if they were going to treat her like Cranston had. But the idea of going back to her father’s to babysit Colin wasn’t any more appealing.

“Em, you’re already here. And I’m guessing it’s because hanging out with your father’s new family is as awful as it sounds.”

Emma cringed. “Did everybody know he’s marrying Tara but me?”

Marcy’s eyes widened. “Oh shit! You didn’t know?”

Emma shook her head. “Nope, my father saved that bombshell for my Christmas visit.”

“Damn. That’s cold.”

“And it gets better. Tara’s pregnant.”

“No!” Marcy held her shot out to Emma. “You need this way more than I do.”

Emma laughed, realizing how ridiculous her life must sound. She took the shot from Marcy and swallowed it in one gulp. It tasted like peppermint and burned her throat on the way down, but to Emma’s surprise, it did the trick. The sharp edges of her self-pity began to blur. She took another shot and giggled. “Thanks. That helps, actually.”

Marcy looked at her with understanding. “So your father’s an ass. Mine is too. But that doesn’t mean they get to ruin our night. Come on, let’s get drunk and dance.”

Emma shook her head. “I don’t think shots and dancing is going to solve my problems.”

Marcy grinned. “Maybe not, but it certainly beats worrying about things you can’t change. Plus, martinis make everything better.”

Emma shrugged, realizing Marcy was right. Why shouldn’t she be young and reckless? It’s what her father was doing.

Emma stopped resisting and let Marcy drag her back toward the party. For a tiny girl, Marcy was deceptively strong. Maybe it was martini muscles, but Emma couldn’t break Marcy’s grasp. And before she knew it, Marcy had tossed Emma’s things back at the naughty elf’s coat check and dragged her onto the dance floor.