Prep School Experiment (18 page)

Rhys breathed out and checked himself. He ran down the scenarios. If he took these guys down, James would have to turn the Bentley around right away, no sneaking out for his morning coffee. Grandmother would know Rhys was being ridiculed and think he hadn’t listened to her advice. His parents would hear of it, maybe even insist he move to Texas. If any of that happened, he wouldn’t get to see Kaitlin today. He really wanted to see Kaitlin and try the forgiveness route. That settled it. He shook off the insult and headed up the walk, head held high.

“Rhys!” Kaitlin called.

He turned back to the line of cars and saw Kaitlin getting out of a black Mercedes sedan, wearing a Shay green sweater over her uniform top. She waved both hands. “Rhys, wait up.”

Her parents remained in the car. Rhys nodded at them and got tight-lipped smiles in response.

Yep, they’d seen the paper.

Kaitlin shouldered her book bag and ran right to him. After a quick hug that gave him only a fleeting touch of soft pressure, warmth, and the faintest hint of her perfume, she pulled back. She twined her arm with his and smiled up at him as if he were wonderful, as if they hadn’t been in a silent battle these last few days. “Hi.”

Everything in him eased. She’d seen the gossip column and chosen him anyway. Despite the looming scandal, she’d picked him. He bent and kissed her lips, noting the flash of blue in her irises and how the sunlight turned her hair golden. “Hi.”

She grinned. Behind her, her parents pulled their sedan out of line and drove out the main exit. Rhys looked back at Parker’s group and then at the departing taillights. He was so freaking glad he’d checked himself. If not, Kaitlin’s parents would have seen the fight. They probably wouldn’t have let her out of the car. He’d certainly never be allowed to see Kaitlin again, no matter who his dad was. He briefly closed his eyes and blew out a breath, feeling lighter, but only briefly, because he had to watch his back and now Kaitlin’s too.

They started up the walk. Heads turned and the Shay Prep curious took their fill of him. Some immediately looked away again, and some gazes stayed glued on him and Kaitlin. She didn’t deserve the negative attention. “Sure you want to go in with me?” Rhys said. “It’s okay if you don’t.”

“Of course I do. My parents read the gossip column. They recognized me and I told them we’re dating. No more secrets.”

Her mouth parted and the sticky gloss she wore tempted him to smear it with his thumb or his mouth.

Later.

“Are they still going to let you got to Texas this weekend? To stay through the election on Tuesday?”

“Mom booked our tickets.”

Rhys tugged on the waist of her sweater. “You won’t need this.”

“Because Texas is so much warmer?”

“It is. I promise.”

Kaitlin squeezed his arm. “Do you really think Elena, Thane, and Geneva will get to go too?”

“Steven says he can arrange it.” Rhys held the entrance open, keeping an eye on the crowd. Sometimes the right expression headed off trouble better than a right hook.

Kaitlin’s big eyes grew troubled. “You know who owns the paper that broke that story, don’t you?”

“The Estridges.”

This one was easy. “Thayer knew nothing about it.”

Kaitlin grinned and her face eased. “Good. You’ve talked to him?”

“No. But he knows the story is false.”

Kaitlin’s two friends ran at them.

“OMG. Did you see the story online?” The thinnest one grabbed Kaitlin’s elbow. “You should come in with us.” She spoke around a lollipop.

The other one adjusted her purse so people could see it better, gave him a quick glance and said, “We should go.”

Kaitlin’s arm tightened on his and she didn’t let her friend pull her away. “No way. Rhys needs our support.”

The thin one rolled her eyes. “You don’t even know him.”

Kaitlin grinned. “Yes, I do. We’re dating.”

Her friend pursed her lips around the lollipop and narrowed her eyes. “Since when?”

Rhys said, “Since Alaska. Kaitlin’s my girlfriend. We’ve just been in a bit of a fight.”

Kaitlin beamed, and her eyes flashed blue.

“Oooh,” the other one said. “Nice.” She lined up beside them and the thin one got beside her. The four of them took up far too much room in the hallway. It made their group unmistakable. “Well, we may have fallen on the social ladder, but the headlines will blow over by next week and we can reclaim our status then. It should help to have a guy in our group.” Her voice brightened and she smiled at Rhys, letting him know he’d been accepted into their clique.

The thin one clicked her candy against her teeth. “We may be sitting closer to the lunch lady this week.”

“Siberia,” the two girls said in unison.

Kaitlin grinned at them. “But, next week, a new story will hit and we can make our move back toward the window seats.”

Rhys knew Kaitlin didn’t care about seat or social placement. She hadn’t in Alaska. Her words were to thank her friends.

They were still standing in the middle of the corridor when Thayer waved and jogged over. “Rhys. Hey.” His usual laconic tones were replaced with anger and a plea for Rhys to hear him out. “I didn’t—”

“I know.” Rhys headed him off. He exchanged a look that said it all. Had Thayer betrayed him, he’d be called the
Wentworth Bastard
right now not the
Brentwood Bastard
. Because Thayer assumed he was the son of the cheating senator.

Thayer nodded, and his features eased. His self-assurance fell back into place. “Kaitlin.”

“Morning, Thayer.”

Thayer glanced at Kaitlin’s friends. They stilled and their eyes grew big. Thayer said, “Regina. Raven. We don’t hang out enough. You two should join us for lunch sometime.”

The lollipop fell from the thin one’s mouth, slid down her shirt and cracked on the floor.

The other gaped until Kaitlin smacked her on the arm. Then the two girls nodded in unison. They seemed incapable of making any other sound.

Thayer slapped Rhys on the shoulder and moved on down the hallway. With that minor gesture of guy-friendship, the tide in the hallway turned. The crowd went back to normal chatter. Students greeted Rhys as if they hadn’t just been freezing him out. No one spoke of the headlines.

November 7th

Senatorial Campaign Dinner

Trallwyn Oaks Hotel

Rhys rode in with the Wentworths. They were ushered through a back entrance to a suite of rooms that overflowed with
Re-elect Steven Wentworth
floral arrangements. They weren’t even staying at the hotel, but they had a private suite available to wait in while the crowds arrived.

Kaitlin was staying with her family on the 12
th
floor. Rhys stuck the
Vote Wentworth
button in the lapel of his tuxedo jacket and thought he might take a break now. “Back in twenty.” He slipped out the side door before Bob could stop him. They were due to go down to the ballroom in thirty. Everything was timed, as if this dinner was the freaking space shuttle launch. He texted Kaitlin.
Can you meet me? Hallway outside your room?
With any other girl, such short notice wouldn’t work. But, he knew Kaitlin got dressed fast.

Yes. Room 1222.

He grinned at the speed of her response and took the elevator down one level. His key card allowed him to access any floor. He and Mom had lived in various motels over different summers growing up. None had special keycard access.

Kaitlin stood alone in the hallway, wearing a floor-length, shimmering, silvery-blue gown. The color matched the flashes in her eyes.

Rhys took her hand and pulled. He stayed quiet so her parents wouldn’t hear him and try to stop her. He tugged her toward the elevator.

***

Rhys ran his fingertips absently over the veins inside her wrist. The sensation felt like lava, rolling, warm. Kaitlin wanted to press closer, but the elevator dinged. Rooftop level. Conservatory.

“Security gave us a map of the building,” Rhys said, leading her out.

The rooftop had an open greenhouse. Roses of every color extended from it and climbed along trellises and arbors forming walls of color. Gorgeous.

Kaitlin spun. “This is beautiful and smells heavenly.”

Rhys led her over to the couch in the center.

Kaitlin spun again, making him spin with her. “I can’t believe how warm it is here. What’s the temperature? The sun’s setting, and yet it has to be in the seventies.”

“We’ve had a cold front.” Rhys sank onto the sofa, resplendent in his black tuxedo. His bangs fell into his green eyes and he leaned back as if he had all the time in the world. He looked like an ad for an expensive watch until he tilted his chin and the light caught his eyes. They flashed with unique intensity, a look that was purely Rhys.

Kaitlin knew she was supposed to sit beside him, demure and ladylike, but she raised the hem of her silk gown and sat sideways on his lap, facing him. His eyes gleamed brighter and she loved it.

Rhys threaded his hand into the back of her hair, unconcerned about the pinned-up coif that had taken the hairdresser two hours.

Mom had found a local lady to come to their rooms, and it had been a fight to get her to stop with the hairspray. She’d wanted to make the ’do as big as Houston. “So it’d be seen on camera,” she’d said. Kaitlin had barely escaped, and had only gotten free by turning the lady on her mother. She stifled a laugh at the memory.

Rhys cupped her chin and kissed her lightly reverently. Kaitlin placed both hands on either side of his face and kissed him back. The smooth glide of their lips deepened. He pushed into her. She pushed into him.

Rhys placed his hands on her arms. “Wait.”

“I know, we don’t have time.”

“There’s something I have to tell you.”

Kaitlin stilled, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. She shifted off his lap and onto the cushioned bench seat.

Rhys let her. He ran his hand through his hair. “I need you to know who you’re kissing.”

Kaitlin’s shoulders eased and the tightness in her chest loosened. “I know you, Rhys. The same way you know me, despite all the outward changes since Alaska.” Kaitlin looked away. “Sometimes, I’m almost used to them.” She touched a loose strand of her hair. “Sometimes I hate them.”

Rhys pulled the strand from her fingers and rubbed it between his own. “I see you.” Rhys looked up as if remembering something. “My grandfather, the one I grew up with, shaved his mustache off and grandmother didn’t notice for a week. It wasn’t because she stopped looking or caring. It was because, when she saw him, she saw beyond the surface. I see you that way, Kaitlin.” He drew the strand to his lips and kissed it. “Not your gold-shot hair. Not your blue-shot eyes. You.”

Kaitlin touched his cheek and lightly traced his jawline. “What did you want me to know? Who am I kissing?”

“I’m the senator’s son, but I’m also Michelle’s son.”

Kaitlin’s mouth dropped open. What?

Rhys told her a crazy baby-switch, hurricane story.

She wanted to say something sensitive and supportive. “No way” is what came out of her mouth.

His phone beeped and he checked the text. “That’s the senator’s campaign manager, Bob. We walk in five.” He rose and held out his hand. “The thing is, after the election, this story is going to hit the press. It’ll be far bigger than a Manhattan gossip column.” He drew her closer. “I want you around. But, I don’t want to drag you into the middle of the scandal. So if you want to wait until things calm down before going out with me, I get it.”

Kaitlin threw herself flush against him. Her eyes searched his. “I don’t know what I thought you’d say, but, while that’s crazy, it’s no reason for us not to be together.”

Rhys brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. “Yeah?”

“I don’t want a relationship where a guy’s only there for me when things are sunny. I want it all—the good, the bad, and the totally mad.”

“That, I can promise you.” He brushed his lips with hers, a fleeting tingling kiss. “I have to get you back before your parents find out you’re missing and Bob sends up security.”

“They know I’m with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I told them.” Kaitlin took his hand. “We can walk back together.”

November 7th

Senatorial Campaign Dinner

Trallwyn Oaks Hotel

Rhys and Kaitlin got back in time to hear Bob give everyone a final rundown on the seating charts. Rhys would sit with Kaitlin, her parents, and his grandparents—a New York table.

Michelle had protested the separation the first time she’d heard this back at mansion, but Bob had said, “
We’re talking a little over 24 hours here.
Home stretch. We’ll add Rhys to a speech on the 9
th
, the day after the election.”

The Wentworths from West Texas would have a table made up of Rhys’s grandpa, some uncles, and some cousins he didn’t know he had. The rest of the ballroom tables were held for major contributors, campaign volunteers, and the press—three hundred or so of the senator’s closest friends.

The senator himself would sit with Michelle, Christian, and Bob at the head table along with one empty chair. The senator’s table always held an empty chair. The morbid symbol allowed the senator to segue to his pet topic of disaster preparedness. His speeches usually went with some form of, “
You all see the empty chair. It’s a symbol of those we’ve lost: neighbor, father, mother, brother, sister, son.”
He always carried out the beginning of the speech with smooth polish and choked up on the word
son.
He’d then brace himself and finish the speech.

Rhys slid into his chair beside Kaitlin and assessed the front table. The lone chair was super-creepy. But, whatever got the votes. He’d rather sit with Kaitlin anyway. Maybe not with her parents, who wore over-polite smiles, but with her definitely. She glowed. Her hair was pulled up in a twisted knot and she wore more makeup than usual. The look made her appear older, more sophisticated. She moved through these surroundings with grace.