MARK TOTALLY TOLD Nat.

     As predicted, she is not taking it well.

     "Vika! Stop yawning! Mark's mom keeps looking over here!" Natalya chastises me in a harsh whisper, green eyes shooting daggers in my direction. Her hands are balled into fists on her lap, French tipped nails digging into her palms, and her glossy lips are pressed into a thin, no-nonsense line.

     I cock an eyebrow, leaning back in my seat. "Is it a crime to yawn now, officer?"

     The blonde girl pins me down with another murderous glare, communicating many a graphic threat on a non-verbal level. Her eyes carefully slide to the other side of the room, over to Mark's family- a litany of polo shirts, pearl necklaces, and roars of pretentious laughter. In the middle of it all is a woman who keeps throwing sharp stares in Nat's direction, artificially plumped lips pursed. I can't tell if it's intentional or just too much Botox.

     I still don't understand how Mark keeps his Cocker Spaniel-like charm when everyone who genetically and circumstantially surrounds him are the most insufferable people. Other than Nat and I, of course.

     Although, I'm not sure Nat would currently exempt me from that group.

     "You watched a horror movie again yesterday, didn't you?" Her eyes narrow, and with a twinge of guilt I immediately start looking everywhere else but her face. She directs a quick kick under the table in my direction. "You know you can't sleep after watching them and you knew you had this today!"

     I hiss, crouching over to protectively rub the inevitably forming bruise on my shin. "Oh, what, so rich people don't yawn now? You lose that capability when you think that paying fifty bucks for a couple leaves of lettuce is actually a good deal?"

     "I'm going to murder you."

     A cheeky smile touches my mouth. "In front of Mark's mom? What if you get blood on her ridiculous fur shawl?"

     A look of horror passes over Nat's face as she pictures it.

     This refers to what Mark and his family refer to as brunch, but I, who only woke up an hour before, am firmly calling breakfast. Nat had practically knocked the door off its hinges this morning, forcefully dragging me from the warm comforts of my blankets to the cruel, unforgiving, and most dreadfully cold floorboards. I barely had a grasp on reality before she was pushing me out the door, panic-stricken muttering about how Mark's mother hated people who are late.

     She did not laugh when I said that Mark's mom hated pretty much anyone that didn't have a brick of solid gold shoved up their ass.

     Despite the homicidal glares she's shooting me, we both know having a half-asleep Vika is better than having no Vika at all. When entering shark-infested waters, that is, brunch with the Vanderbilt family, there's strength in numbers.

     Nat sighs, rubbing her temples with a tired look in her eyes. "Can you at least make nice with Noel? Mark's mom literally thinks he's the second coming, and my maid of honour trying to scam him of ten thousand dollars is not helping my case."

     I roll my eyes. "One, I love Mark, but does he really need to tell his mom everything? Two, I did not scam him. I don't know why everyone keeps on making it seem like I did."

     Nat arches a manicured brow at me. "Oh yeah, and what do you call tricking someone into giving you thousands of dollars then?"

     "Is it my fault that he just barges into people's apartments and throws money at them? No, I think that's more his problem than mine. Everyone's criticism is a little unjustified here." I raise my brows, toying with the poor excuse of a salad that I paid way too much for. 

     When I meet Nat's eye, I can't help but laugh.

     The beginning of the first genuine smile I've seen all day curve on Nat's lips, the suffocating atmosphere that the Vanderbilt's trail along wherever they go finally thinning. I can't help but note the man of the hour is with them too, sporting his usual frown.

     When I look back to Nat, she's hiding a smile behind her hand. "He definitely thought Mark hired a sex worker."

     "Honey, for ten thousand dollars, he can think whatever he wants of me."

     A laugh escapes from the girl, and she immediately covers her mouth as if she hadn't been expecting it. Her green eyes are shining, and they playfully narrow on me as she leans back. "Well, go make him think that you're the most wonderful thing in the world, because I'm pretty sure Mark's mom is looking for any reason to call off the wedding, and Noel's hurt feelings might make that happen."

     My eyes shift over to Noel, whose slight frown has upgraded to no expression at all, and he appears to be completely ignoring Mark's brother and sister in their attempts to pull him into conversation. With him distracted, I take a moment to absorb his dark hair and tall frame, thick-framed glasses perched on his nose and matching his black dress shirt, sleeves rolled up. I can't help but chuckle as Mark's younger brother claps Noel affectionately on the back, and his eyes widen, positively affronted.

     "Who's this guy, anyway? I swear, he appears, and suddenly he's all I ever hear about," I muse, turning back to Nat, unable to tame the curiosity within me. "If he's so close with Mark, why am I just seeing him?"

     It's a name I'd heard being tossed around here and there, more of a concept than a person, but it feels as if this guy's begrudgingly materialized from thin air looking for a way back to Kansas.

     Nat shrugs. "Honestly, I don't know much about him either. He's been living in Hong Kong for the past four years, and now he's doing business here before the wedding. Apparently he and Mark have been friends since they were like, seven or something, and his uncle is some hotel tycoon that Mark's ad firm works for. But he's a total workaholic, which is why I think you've never met him before. Oh, and Cleo's his cat. That's literally all I know."

     A sigh escapes my lips as my eyes are pulled back over to him. "You're saying that I pissed of Mark's richest friend? Really? I did that?"

     Nat laughs. "Oh yeah, that guy's rolling in dough, apparently. You made a fool of the wrong guy."

     She drops her voice a few octaves, but the grin that's smeared across her face betrays her Noel impression. I shoot her a dry look, and she opens her mouth as if she's about to make some smart remark back, but then her eyes fall over my shoulder towards the table with Mark's mom, and it dies.

     "All right, all right," I sigh, throwing my hands up in surrender. "I already bought my dress so the wedding better not get called off. I'll go make nice with the best man."

     Nat shoots me a small smile and I climb to my feet, forcefully pulling my lace dress down my thighs. Usually I opt for the shorter the better whenever I'm fraternizing with Mark's rich male friends, but I have a feeling that Noel isn't going to be impressed by some flashes of skin.

     He's moved to the corner of the room, casually holding a scotch glass as he listens to Mark talk about something or another, looking like he's actually listening for the first time that day. Instinctively I pull my dark hair forward, preparing for what I know will be nothing short of the most awkward conversation I'll ever have.

     And I've had a full conversation with my aunt over the phone in spread eagle.

     "Fancy meeting you two here," I beam, sliding up next to Mark. "Hiding out, are we?"

     Mark flashes me that boyish grin of his. "Seems we've been caught. But I guess I should go save my wife-to-be while I've still got one to save. If I leave her alone too long, she'll realize what a terrible mistake she's making."

     I laugh as he shoots me a wink, and then Mark disappears across the room, next to Nat's side. The good-natured ambiance that Mark radiates quickly shrivels as I turn to Noel, whose subtle frown has returned with a vengeance.

     "Hello," he murmurs, ice touching his words. I can see his grip tighten around his glass.

     I grin, opening my arm towards him. "Hey! It's me, remember? Your favourite hooker!"

     The only crack to his grim facade is a twitch of his brow.

     "If we could forget about all that- that would be great." His eyes fixate to a potted plant in the corner

     "Really? It doesn't seem like you've forgotten by the way you said hello."

     His dark eyes steal mine and my smirk suddenly drops, an unfathomable shiver sparking down my spine. There's a quiet intensity smouldering in his pupils that robs me of my words.

     "You're overfeeding Cleopatra."

     At his voice, I'm blinking in confusion. "Wait- what? How do you know?"

     "I can see the food bowl. She's going to get fat if you keep feeding her too much." That proverbial look of mild irritation flickers across his features.

     I pause, an unsettling sensation overwhelming me. "You've been to the place?"

     Suddenly I'm raking through my memories for any hint of his presence, any indication that he'd been around while I was belting lyrics in the shower, or loudly rehearsing conversations I would have with Nikki once I was a successful published author, or taking the Hitachi out for a little me time.

     I parch. Or when I was telling his precious cat to fuck off.

      He absently rubs his wrist. "Hmm, yes. Usually at night, so you were asleep. I have a key, remember?"

     My shoulders immediately drop their tension. "Well, whatever. She looks at me and keeps meowing. What am I supposed to do?"

     "She just wants attention, brush her why don't you? Isn't that supposed to be your payment for staying at Mark's place?"

     I snort, crossing my arms over my chest. "Oh yeah, like I'm going anywhere near that demon cat."

     I'm pretty sure that Cleo would be just as unimpressed with the thought of me going anywhere near three feet of her.

     "Demon cat?" His brow creases, eyes widening a fraction.

     "Yeah, you know, like a bloodthirsty demon creature that temporarily takes a feline form? Otherwise known as Cleo."

     His gaze narrows into a glare. "It's Cleopatra, and she's not a demon." There's an undercurrent of venom in his voice, and it's the most emotion he's shown all day that surpasses mildly troubled or slightly confused.

     I can't help the smirk that twitches onto my lips. "Her glowing red eyes beg to differ."

     As he fixes me with another agitated look, I catch Nat's questioning gaze from across the room, and I throw a reassuring thumbs up in her direction. She narrows her eyes, suspicious as they trail towards the ever-frowning Noel. I purposefully step in her line of view to block him from the rest of the party.

     "Could you stop looking like its the end of the world for like, twenty seconds? I'm not really that sorry, but if it's that important to you, I apologize for trying to accept a particular amount of money you were practically throwing in my face. All right? You good now? Truce?" I offer him a hand in all olive-branch fashion.

     His eyes narrow on my outstretched arm, wary. There's a moment of quiet as I can practically hear the gears whirring in his head, probably trying to decipher what kind of poor-people disease he can contract from skin-to-skin contact.

     Just as his mouth twitches, and he looks as if he's about to accept, there's a harsh whisper of my name in my ear.

     Suddenly my mind is flooded with memories of last night, flickers of soulless eyes, translucent pale skin, and blood stained night gowns. My eyes widen in panic, and a small scream escapes my lips as I flail instinctively, already accepting my death via little ghost girl. My arms seem to move on their own accord, and my too-quick movements have the back of my hand shooting out and catching Noel's, specifically the one holding his drink.

     The diamond-cut whiskey glass propels right into his solar plexus with a wince and an ooomph from the man himself. The who-knows-how-many-years amber liquid jumps from the rim to soak his shirt before all of it comes to kiss the floor in a deafening, splintered shatter.

     Absolute silence floods the room. Forty pairs of eyes scorch into my back.

     My eyes grow wide in tandem with the shock mounting in my stomach. When I throw a quick glance over my shoulder for good measure, it isn't a ghost girl at all. Turns out, it's just Mark's younger brother.

     Close enough.

     But the younger brother's usual smile is completely eviscerated, and as I follow his gaze back to Noel, I can feel a new kind of anxiety pinch at my heart.

    I'm not sure assault is exactly what Nat meant when she told me to make nice.

     "Oh my god," I gasp with my hands covering my mouth, shoulders tight with tension. "Oh my god, are you okay?"

     When I catch his gaze, the chill that sparks down my spine is answer enough.

     His arms are still frozen, open, and I can see his jaw flexing with exertion. Panic rips through my veins as he glares at me through his glasses, a sneer twisting on his mouth. "Do I look okay?"

     I wince, sucking my teeth. "Um, yes?"

     He doesn't even entertain me with a response.

     "Ah, shit, I'm sorry. Really. I just, I was watching movies last night, so I'm a little jumpy. And it's also partially Mark's brother's fault for trying to scare me. Let's not forget about that. Anyways, let me help."

     I drop down to a crouch, brows furrowed as I take in the fragmented mess that's overtaken the tiled floor. My hands hesitate as I try to find the most substantial piece in the sea of shards. With a hard swallow, I look back up to Noel to find him examining the damage of his god-knows-how-expensive button-up shirt.

     I wince. "Sorry man. Hey, while we're still on the topic though, that truce, that's still on the table?"

     His gaze shifts to mine in a murderous glower, and I throw my hands up in surrender, nodding in understanding. Maybe another time.

     "Get up," he snaps. "You're going to hurt yourself. Don't touch anything."

     I wave him off. "No, no- I can help. I promise. Just, uh-"

     My voice trails off as I'm still crouched, still unsure of even where to begin. Never being born sounds like a great place to start.

     "Go before I call my lawyer."

     The word is still lingering in the air as I shoot up. "Lawyer?" I echo, softer.

     Again, his answer is all in the eyes, narrowed and pinning me down. I grin sheepishly in reply, pointedly avoiding everyone's pervasive stares as I back away slowly and then make a sharp break for it.

     Back at the table, Nat's green eyes are wide. She watches as I quickly collect my jacket and purse, my legs already buzzing with the need of escape.

     "Where are you going, Vika?" she asks, bewildered.

     I shoot her a strained grin. "Well, it seems I'm about to get sued for more money than I could ever imagine, so I'll be in the parking lot full of Teslas that are begging to be jumped in front of."