Maybe she did. Emeline sat back in her seat, flashing wounded, reproaching eyes at her father.
“Why don’t I take you to the ladies’ room so you can freshen up,” Justine said, breaking the tension. Mattie nodded in agreement even though she didn’t want to leave the warm circle of West’s arms.
The fact that he cared enough to help her made her feel hot and woozy inside. It had been a long time since anyone had shown her any consideration.
He helped her to her feet, earning a sharp glare from Emeline. The haughty bitch stared at him with a petulant expression on her face until he shrugged in frustration and demanded, “What?”
With Justine hovering beside her, Mattie hobbled on her too-high heels to the ornate restroom. She didn’t care about her runny mascara as she splashed cold water on her cheeks and forehead.
“Brant seems taken with you,” Justine said. The line of lights over the mirrors was too bright. The play of highs and lows on her chiseled face made the woman into something sinister.
Mattie began to feel halfway human. “He’s a nice guy.”
“Emeline deserves better. Much better. He’s a gardener, for heaven’s sake.” Justine shook her head and adjusted a strand of hair that had come out of the perfect French twist on the back of her head.
“He’s a really nice guy,” Mattie repeated. ”He seems honest and hardworking. I don’t think anybody could ask for anyone better than that.”
“You’re more suited to him,” her aunt said, narrowing her eyes. “Yes, much more suited.” “I—okay.” Mattie wasn’t sure if it was an insult or just a badly-phrased statement. Cold, hard hands grabbed her shoulders, and she nearly lost her balance as she tried to twist around as fast as the woman was turning her. Justine’s blazing eyes startled her, and a tendril of fear and unease crept to her heart.
“Do you honestly think yourself to be Elaine McKendrick?” Justine hissed, staring into Mattie’s face. “Do you? Do you know how many other liars and con artists have tried to get money from this family? I will not allow it again.”
“Justine, I am Ruth Ellen’s granddaughter,” Mattie said, extracting herself from Justine’s grip. “I have nothing to hide.”
“Just remember, little girl lost, that this family guards its secrets very well. Blood or not, you would be better off going home.”
Mattie sighed and pulled a paper towel out of the shiny chrome holder. She dampened it, blotted at the dark arcs under her eyes. The action kept her hands from shaking. “Justine, I’m here because Ruth Ellen asked me to come. For now, this is home.”
***
Blindingly loud hip-hop music saturated the air of the club. Stuck together at the back of Emeline’s posse, Mattie glanced at West and raised her eyebrows. She felt self-conscious in her flirty dress, but at the same time, she felt good. More than once she’d caught West gazing at her. His expressions were unreadable, other than the usual suspicious glaze over his eyes every once in a while.
Mattie assumed she’d passed some sort of test when she survived the dinner two nights earlier. West spent more time talking to her, less time trying to make her slip up in her story. “Want a drink?” West hollered into her ear. She could barely hear him over the music pumping from what seemed like the very walls.
“I don’t drink very often!” she shouted back.
“Coke, then?”
“Yeah!” He squeezed through the throbbing crowd. Mattie looked around for Emeline and her friends. “Of course,” she muttered to herself as she searched for a safe place to stand out of the way of the gyrating bodies crushing against her. “They drag me out here and dump me.” Nobody had really wanted her to come along. Since the dinner, Em had ceased all efforts at friendship. She’d seen it in Emeline’s friends’ eyes and in the way they whispered to themselves, glancing at her.
“Why don’t I take you to the ladies’ room so you can freshen up,” Justine said, breaking the tension. Mattie nodded in agreement even though she didn’t want to leave the warm circle of West’s arms.
The fact that he cared enough to help her made her feel hot and woozy inside. It had been a long time since anyone had shown her any consideration.
He helped her to her feet, earning a sharp glare from Emeline. The haughty bitch stared at him with a petulant expression on her face until he shrugged in frustration and demanded, “What?”
With Justine hovering beside her, Mattie hobbled on her too-high heels to the ornate restroom. She didn’t care about her runny mascara as she splashed cold water on her cheeks and forehead.
“Brant seems taken with you,” Justine said. The line of lights over the mirrors was too bright. The play of highs and lows on her chiseled face made the woman into something sinister.
Mattie began to feel halfway human. “He’s a nice guy.”
“Emeline deserves better. Much better. He’s a gardener, for heaven’s sake.” Justine shook her head and adjusted a strand of hair that had come out of the perfect French twist on the back of her head.
“He’s a really nice guy,” Mattie repeated. ”He seems honest and hardworking. I don’t think anybody could ask for anyone better than that.”
“You’re more suited to him,” her aunt said, narrowing her eyes. “Yes, much more suited.” “I—okay.” Mattie wasn’t sure if it was an insult or just a badly-phrased statement. Cold, hard hands grabbed her shoulders, and she nearly lost her balance as she tried to twist around as fast as the woman was turning her. Justine’s blazing eyes startled her, and a tendril of fear and unease crept to her heart.
“Do you honestly think yourself to be Elaine McKendrick?” Justine hissed, staring into Mattie’s face. “Do you? Do you know how many other liars and con artists have tried to get money from this family? I will not allow it again.”
“Justine, I am Ruth Ellen’s granddaughter,” Mattie said, extracting herself from Justine’s grip. “I have nothing to hide.”
“Just remember, little girl lost, that this family guards its secrets very well. Blood or not, you would be better off going home.”
Mattie sighed and pulled a paper towel out of the shiny chrome holder. She dampened it, blotted at the dark arcs under her eyes. The action kept her hands from shaking. “Justine, I’m here because Ruth Ellen asked me to come. For now, this is home.”
***
Blindingly loud hip-hop music saturated the air of the club. Stuck together at the back of Emeline’s posse, Mattie glanced at West and raised her eyebrows. She felt self-conscious in her flirty dress, but at the same time, she felt good. More than once she’d caught West gazing at her. His expressions were unreadable, other than the usual suspicious glaze over his eyes every once in a while.
Mattie assumed she’d passed some sort of test when she survived the dinner two nights earlier. West spent more time talking to her, less time trying to make her slip up in her story. “Want a drink?” West hollered into her ear. She could barely hear him over the music pumping from what seemed like the very walls.
“I don’t drink very often!” she shouted back.
“Coke, then?”
“Yeah!” He squeezed through the throbbing crowd. Mattie looked around for Emeline and her friends. “Of course,” she muttered to herself as she searched for a safe place to stand out of the way of the gyrating bodies crushing against her. “They drag me out here and dump me.” Nobody had really wanted her to come along. Since the dinner, Em had ceased all efforts at friendship. She’d seen it in Emeline’s friends’ eyes and in the way they whispered to themselves, glancing at her.
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