𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 |𝟏𝟖+

07 || Comfort Crowd

Double shit.

If his uniform isn't a dead giveaway, his accent is. But the Russian doesn't regard me with alarm, nor does he look at me like he knows who I am.

"My apologies, Sir." I bashfully breath out, dipping my head in a sign of embarrassment as I slip past him and out of the closet. I make sure to brush my hand on his chest ever so subtly, an action that draws his attention to my touch instead of my suspicious behavior. "I thought this was the restroom."

"The restrooms are over there." Comes his response as he points further down the corridor to a set of doors, clearly labeled as restrooms.

I give a sheepish chuckle."Right." Knowing that my skin is far too tan for a subtle blush to form, I bite my bottom lip. "I see that now."

A tense moment of silence settles and my heart begins to beat in anticipation. That is until he pushes past me, with a shake of his head, muttering a "Stupid Americans," under his breath.

I take a moment to recover and in doing so, I cast a glance from the archway that leads into the ballroom to the large staircase in the center of the foyer type space. Guards line the top of the stairs, meaning the only place I can go is forward, into the ballroom.

My heels click in against the marble floors as I pass two girls stopped in the middle of the hallway, more engrossed in taking pictures of themselves than where they're going.

I make it past them before I'm stopped by a somewhat familiar voice. "Lina Ayad?"

I stop dead in my tracks.

Triple shit.

"Only you would show up to an everything but black party in black."

Stretching my lips into a smile, one fake and reserved for the people I'd been surrounding myself with for the past three years, I greet the two girls. "Chelsea Montclair." I don't spare her sidekick a glance, "What a pleasant surprise."

Her smile of response puts my fake one to shame. "What are you doing here?" The only thing bigger than her mouth was her ass and right now it was crammed tight in a fucking ball gown, while I was in a semi formal dress at best.

I don't let the way she eyes my dress deter me. I send her an easy smile. "I'm here for the free drinks and entertainment of course."

There was only one reason I deemed her important enough to remember her name and it had everything to do with her father and his influence over the US senate.

I'd shared a class with her at Oxford and realized I couldn't stand the girl enough to befriend her. She was a walking gossip column.

"I mean in New York." She laughs, "I thought you'd be vacationing in St Barts with Sebastian and the rest of your friends." She tilts her head, her smile a complete contrast to her vulture like demeanor. "I do hope everything is alright between the two of you..."

I don't miss the spiteful way she says friends nor the hope in her voice for reasons I don't give two shits about but I entertain her, seeing as my chances of surviving depend on it. "Seb and I are fine. What brings you..." I glance around the room. "Here."

She tips her chin at me. "In case you didn't hear, I'm interning at Couture Magazine this summer." I'm sure she worked really hard for that one. "I've also got a seat as one of the chairs of La Haute Society. They're in New York City this summer season-"