Chapter 7
"Ha! I was right Mrs. Myers is loaded!"
Mrs. Myers' house wasn't a house. It was a mansion. It was three stories with windows everywhere. It reminded Whitney of an English estate manor. She lived at the west edge of the city nestled up against the mountains. There was a huge circle drive out front with a fountain in the middle. It was lined with cars and limos. A set of wide marble stairs led up to the house.
Whitney could hear Madraeus stomping behind them as they went up the stairs. She swore that man had more mood swings that any woman. Well she wasn't going to let it spoil her evening.
They were met at the door by attendants who took their coats and then led them through to a glittering ballroom. For a moment she just stood in the door and stared. Two huge crystal chandeliers hung from the inlaid ceiling making the room sparkle. There was a small stage at the far end with a live mini orchestra playing. Round tables and chairs were scattered around the edges of the room. Everywhere she looked there were men in tuxedos and women in evening gowns. The whole room glittered. She felt like she had been transported through time. It was beautiful.
"Close your mouth Whitney. You look positively provincial." Madraeus whispered as he moved past her to greet the first group of people.
Whitney glared at his back trying to control the sudden urge to walk up and kick him in the shin.
"Whitney?" Mrs. Myers said coming up beside her.
"Hi, Mrs. M.," Whitney turned and gave her a quick hug. "Happy Birthday!"
"Thank you, I almost didn't recognize you. You are absolutely stunning. Wherever did you find that dress?"
"Well I wish I could take the credit but I didn't find it. He did," she jerked a thumb over her shoulder toward Madraeus.
"Oh really?" Mrs. Myers gave her a piercing look. After a moment she turned it on Madraeus. "Hmm."
"What do you mean, hmm?" Whitney challenged. She never got her answer because Rami stepped up and bowed gallantly.
"Mrs. Myers," he rumbled, "Happy Birthday."
"Thank you, Rami."
Whitney glanced around and noticed a banner proclaiming Happy 2,325th Birthday hanging above the orchestra. She smiled at least someone had a sense of humor.
"Nice banner," Whitney laughed.
"Yes, well," Mrs. Myers blushed.
She turned and took Whitney and Rami by the arms and led them toward the dance floor.
"Now you two kids go and have some fun. Rami, I expect you to keep Whitney out of danger."
"Yes ma'am." Rami bowed as Mrs. Myers wandered off to speak to her other guests.
"What did she mean out of danger?" Whitney asked as she watched her employer move through the crowd. Rami sighed.
"Whitney Martindale, you are in a different world tonight. Many of the people here are not quite what you think. Try to be careful what you say."
"I doubt it's all that dramatic but I'll behave." Rami looked down at her expectantly. "I promise." Whitney finally shrugged.
She felt slightly self-conscious and ungainly. Everyone in the room seemed to be beautiful, graceful, and sophisticated. Some were familiar she had seen them come through the office. Those she had met before seemed genuinely glad to see her but the ones that she hadn't met yet weren't so nice. Most treated her with contempt but their condescension quickly disappeared when Rami explained that she was Ravilla's new receptionist. Whitney finally grabbed Rami's sleeve and dragged him aside.
"What's the deal? Why does everyone treat me like a smelly fish until Ravilla's name is mentioned? Why is he so important? They can't all like him."
"My friend is a very powerful...member of...this society. They may not all like him but all respect him and owe him a deference for one reason or another."
"I thought he was just an investment guy," Whitney frowned. Rami laughed.
"Oh, no, Whitney Martindale, he is much more than that," he wiggled his eyebrows, "much more.
He led her to the dance floor. From that moment on she lost track of time. For every song she was passed to a new partner. Finally she escaped to the sidelines. She was trying to get her breath back after dancing energetically with some guy named Thomas.
"What's shakin', sugar?" Philtzer said in her ear. Whitney jumped and whacked him in the arm.
"Don't do that!" She exclaimed. He only grinned wolfishly at her.
"I didn't know you'd be here." She was glad to see a friendly face.
"Are you kidding? We are all here," he murmured as he circled her.
"What does that mean?" she frowned at him.
"You look amazing," he deftly avoided her question, "You should be dancing." He grabbed her hand and propelled her toward the dance floor.
"But I was..." she started.
"Going to say yes? Good beautiful women should always be dancing."
Madraeus' gaze narrowed as Philtzer took Whitney onto the floor.
"Doesn't Whitney look beautiful tonight?" Mrs. Myers said from beside him.
Madraeus grunted. He wasn't going to say that she was an absolute vision with her dark hair swept up off of her beautifully slender neck, held in place by green jewels flower pins that matched her eyes; or that the maroon color of her dress was the perfect color to bring out the bright blush of life that was bursting out of her.
"I hear you were responsible for choosing her gown." Her words sounded like polite conversation but Madraeus knew better.
"It was the first one off of the rack." He grunted.
"Really? And yet it was a perfect fit." She had managed to keep the irony out of her tone.
Madraeus had to admire her for it, but still she was up to something. Weavers always were.
"What are you implying?" he slid a glance at her and crossed his arms.
"Nothing at all."
"I don't appreciate being manipulated, Anastasia. You should know better." Mrs. Myers arched her brows and looked innocent but whatever reply she was going to make was lost to Madraeus when he heard Whitney's laugh. His eyes snapped to her on the dance floor.
Whitney had just collapsed onto Philtzer's shoulder laughing. Madraeus clenched his fists. She was making a spectacle of herself.
As if she felt Madraeus glaring at her, Whitney turned and searched the crowd. Their gazed locked for a moment. She frowned and turned her back on him. Madraeus sighed and turned away from the dance floor.
"Cecelia's here!" Rami suddenly appeared at Madraeus' elbow. Rubbed his forehead. He didn't want to deal with Cecelia's psychotic antics tonight. "And she's talking to Whitney."
He spun around. His eyes snapped to the spot where Whitney had been. He could tell just by the way that she was standing with her arms crossed and chin thrust upward that this would not end well.
Whitney cleared her throat and smoothed her dress. Would he never stop glaring? She was just having fun. Granted Philtzer was feisty and some of his jokes were the dirtiest she had ever heard but at least he was fun. She just wished Madraeus would lighten up and quit condemning her for everything that she did.
"So you are the new receptionist," a velvety voice crawled across her skin. Whitney didn't like the way the woman had said receptionist. It had been contemptuous and implied that her duties involved something sordid.
"Yes." She turned slowly to confront the woman and found herself facing a veritable goddess. She was a tall blond who was very well endowed. Her white evening gown was mostly made of translucent layers and seemed to whisper about the secrets they hid as she moved.
Something about this woman had Whitney's hackles rising. Languid blue eyes looked her up and down reminding her of the way that Madraeus had that first day.
"Well I suppose we all must have some sort of job," the woman sneered.
Whitney crossed her arms and glared up at the woman. That was it. She had taken enough crap from her boss, but she wasn't going to let this unknown floozy stand here and insult her.
Whitney returned that up and down appraisal. She had to reevaluate her opinion. This woman was not a goddess. She was a bit manly, more of an Amazonian bully. She was too perfectly constructed. In fact she was pretty sure that most of her was fake.
"Yeah, I heard the catty bitch position had already been filled."
Fury filled the other woman's eyes making her face look strangely distorted. Then suddenly the woman smiled, but it was not a nice smile.
"Oh my little Madraeus must just love having you around. He must think you are so cute." She said with a little laugh then shook her head. "No. No. Cute is not the correct word. What is the word? Pathetic? Desperate?" The woman tilted her head to the side.
"Excuse me? If you want desperate just look in the mirror, sister, plastic ain't that fashionable." Whitney snorted.
"Watch your tongue little cow," the woman moved forward but stopped just short of stepping on Whitney and glared down at her, "someone might rip it out." Then the woman simply turned and walked away.
Whitney watched her disappear into the crowd. Some of the people around her that had witnessed the confrontation started to whisper to each other. Everyone was looking. She looked around desperately wishing Philtzer would come back but she didn't see him anywhere. She caught site of Madraeus glaring at her. Suddenly she wanted to be anywhere but here. She needed to be away from all these people. Whitney dashed into the hallway.
"Whitney?" a familiar voice spoke behind her. She spun around.
"Justin?" she couldn't believe it. "Why are you here?"
All in one moment she wanted to scream, laugh, throw herself into his arms, and slap him. Instead she just stood there as he sauntered forward. He was in a tuxedo like everyone else but he looked different somehow. He was paler than he used to be and there was a wildness about him that hadn't been there before. He motioned to a door down the hall.
"I'd like to talk for a moment." Still in shock, Whitney let him lead her into the room. It was a small office with some bookshelves, filing cabinet, and a desk. He kept his hand on her arm but it was not like it used to be. His grip was hard and icy.
"I want to talk about us." That snapped Whitney out of it.
"What us? You dumped me with a note," she jerked her arm away, "what happened to your better offer?"
"That wasn't my fault. Someone else left that note."
"Oh, so someone else broke us up with a note?"
"It doesn't matter, I'm better now, better than I've ever been and I can offer you a life you wouldn't believe. I want you with me. We could do things that would blow your mind," he said as he stalked toward her.
"What are you talking about? Are you high?" He certainly seemed to be in an altered state. She wondered if he was drunk but he wasn't acting like the normal funny drunk she was used to.
"If you are willing to just dump me once you'll probably do it again."
"No, Whit, you are going to be mine," he smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. He kept backing her up until she was against a filing cabinet.
"You're starting to scare me." Gone was the joking happy Justin that she has spent so much time with. This man was hard, cold and mean. She eyed the open door behind him. There was no way to get by him. He had her cornered. He reached out and gripped her shoulders so hard that she winced.
"Justin you're hurting me!" She squirmed trying to get free but he held her tighter pressing her back against the cabinet with his body. His face seemed to change. All his features became sharper. Suddenly his head dipped and blinding pain shot through her neck.
Whitney panicked. She struggled harder. She kicked at his legs but it had no effect. She needed a weapon. Her hands flailed around trying to find something to hit him with. Nothing came into her grasp. Her vision started to swim. She couldn't get a breath in to scream.
Finally her knee came in contact with his groin and he pulled back with a roar. His distorted face was covered in blood. With desperate inspiration she reached up and grabbed one of the jeweled flowers from her hair. It had a five-inch spike on the end of it like a chopstick. Terror filled Whitney as he lunged for her.
Her head was spinning. She couldn't see straight. Wildly she stabbed at him. She must have hit something vital because she heard him scream then he was gone.
Blood was running down her neck soaking the front of her dress. She sank to the floor. She tried to put a hand to her throat but her arm seemed limp. She knew she should cry out for help but all her energy seemed to disappear. She was so tired maybe she could just close her eyes for a moment and then call for help.