“Surprised?”
“Extremely,” he confirmed. “You don’t look or act like them.”
“Ah,” I nodded. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”
“As you should,” he confirmed. “You’re funny, down to earth, kind…”
“Again, thank you.”
“You’re welcome” he looked at his watch. “Come on buddy, we need to pack up – you’ve got to be back by five and we need to drive Esme home.”
Theo grinned, putting his stuff away. “I like Me-me.”
Mike chuckled. “Always knew he had good taste.”
I blushed again at the compliment and thanked life for the little break it just gave me. A break from my own dark thoughts, the journal my mom wrote and the impending doom.
The drive back to the house was not tense, with Theo in the back seat going over the list of superheroes and giving them grades based on their strengths and weaknesses.
When Mike stopped in front of the house of doom, I turned to look at Theo. “I’ll come next Wednesday, would you like that?”
He nodded. “Yes Me-me, Wednesday.”
“Thanks, see you,” I told Mike as I got out of the car.
“Hi Steve,” I greeted the security guard who still looked shocked that I acknowledged him in such a friendly manner when the rest of my family mostly treated him like a commodity.
“Miss Esmeralda,” he replied, opening the side gate for me. “I believe you’re late, some of the guests are already in attendance.”
I sighed with a shrug. “Thank you, Steve, it’s alright.” I replied with a smile I wanted to look real but I knew didn’t.
As I walked down the path to the house, my good humor faded, but at least I still had the journal to read and look forward to and that could not be taken away from me.
Chapter 7
As soon as I walked in, Sophia rushed toward me with a look of pure relief on her face. She was dressed impeccably in a floor-length silk red dress, with sky-high heels, I couldn't understand how she managed to walk so fast and competently in those – she seriously defied gravity.
“Oh God, Esmeralda, where were you?” she whispered with urgency grabbing my hand and pulling me up the stairs. “You were expected home almost two hours ago, your father is livid. There-” She glanced back at me. “There’ll be consequences.”
I sighed. “Everything I do has consequences in this house.” I muttered as Sophia pulled me into my bedroom. “Damned if I do, damned if I don't, so excuse me if I do.”
She sighed, removing my clothes with precision as if I was an inanimate mannequin and I was just too emotionally exhausted to fight her.
“This is not the way to go, Esmeralda, I'm here to help you, to watch your back and this is not the way to do things.”
I rolled my eyes as she ordered me to lift my leg as she helped me into a dress. As she turned me around to button the back, I had a good look at the dress in the mirror. It was a lace-detail cream chiffon, halter neck maxi dress with lavender beads and lace embellishments on the neck and waist. It looked beautiful, innocent, pure – everything my father wanted me to represent, and it looked particularly nice with my heavy golden-brown hair and golden skin which was still present from my second summer job working at the local pool.
Sophia met my eyes in the mirror and gave me a sad smile. “You look stunning Esmeralda, we won’t even need to put much make-up on you.” She pulled my hair up, still assessing me in the mirror. “We're going to put your hair up in a messy bun okay? You’ve got such a graceful neck; we need to show it.”
I gave her a smile too because no matter why she made the choices she made, she was still stuck in this life, she was still somebody who cared and other than Taylor she was probably the only person I could trust around here.
She gestured me toward the vanity set.
“It’s going to be alright,” she affirmed after I sat and she started to work on my hair. “Be on your best behaviour, be the daughter your father wants you to be, and he will be more lenient.”
“Okay.”
She rested her hand on my shoulders and squeezed, in an attempt to comfort. “Turn around, I’ll just put on a little make-up.”
When I turned and met her eyes, I couldn't help but feel a wave of gratitude for having her in this house.
“I’ll talk to him,” She added as she applied some blusher on my cheeks. “I know it’s not your fault you’re late.”
I shook my head. I knew my dad didn’t really care about other people’s opinions and his wife even less. He barely acknowledged her at home and didn’t see her as much more than an asset he acquired. Plus, my father saw only what he wanted to see – Archie’s animosity toward me was as clear as day – it was obvious he wanted to make me suffer, and whilst Sophia never said so out loud, I knew she’d figured it out. She knew that my lateness was due to one of Archie’s tricks.
“Don’t bother,” I told her once she’d finished doing my lips. “It won’t serve either of us. I can take it.” I added, and I was pleased with how certain I sounded.
She looked at me for a couple of seconds before sighing in defeat and retrieving the small lavender heels from my closet. “You’re so much stronger than I am, Esmeralda – don’t let them quench that fire, just hide it. Don’t make that mistake,” she added, her voice so soft I wasn’t sure the comment was really meant for me.
She snuck me into the reception hall through a side door, “so your father can’t really figure out how late you are” she breathed before leaving me alone to join his side, which I assume was what a dutiful wife had to do.
I looked around for a familiar face, anyone who I’d met before would do. My eyes locked with someone I would have rather avoided, one of the three Brentwood Kings – Antoine Saint-Vincent.
He grinned, raising his glass before prowling toward me, like a predator locking in on his prey.
Where my brother was all darkness and brute force and Caleb all light and beautiful in a very masculine sort of way, Antoine was the perfect contrast, his traits were perfect and refined, his features so thin and delicate he looked almost feminine. He was tall but thin, willowy, with light chestnut hair and striking emerald eyes. He was absolutely mesmerizing in a very eerie way.
“It’s very good to finally make your acquaintance, dear Esmeralda.” He took my hand and brushed his lips against my knuckles. “Plus belle que la plus sauvage des roses, si belle que j’affronterais toutes les ronces juste pour toucher ton visage somptueux.”
His perfect French almost made me melt. Him being single was a mystery to me. “What did you say?” I asked breathlessly, not able to hide how his charms affected me.
He smiled, keeping my hand securely in his. “I said you were more beautiful than even the wildest rose. So beautiful in fact that I wouldn’t mind fighting all the thorns just to touch your sumptuous face.”
I smiled at him and it was one of my first genuine smiles as far as the Kings of Brentwood were concerned. “Aren’t you going to get into trouble? Showing kindness to the enemy and all.”
“For a beauty like you?” he grinned. “I would face an enraged army.”