Page 42 of Hooked

What’s it like to have someone like Sia love you?

And why do I suddenly want so badly to find out?

15

Sia

Iwant to throw something against the wall. Something glass. Watch it shatter into a million pieces.

I hate that I’m finally starting to reconcile with Danny just in time to lose Murphy. I hate that we can’t all be together, and the helplessness gives me the same choking feeling the wet scarf around my neck did on the Ivy Bay. I can’t fix this.

I’m grateful for the busy work of the party. In the ballroom, I direct catering, check the sound system, and get Sven caught up on the bar.

Kieran calls around the time the ferry was supposed to arrive, but I let it go to voicemail. I don’t want to make him feel guilty, and since it’d be hard to keep the sadness out of my voice it’s better to not talk to him. Even if I had time, I just can’t listen to him apologize. He’s making the right decision by taking care of his father.

Kristi asks if everything is okay, and I reassure her. I’m glad I have something to look forward to—getting Sven and Kristi on the same page is going to be very satisfying.

And there’s Vinny, too. I’m stunned that he told me the news in person. He would’ve let me cry in his arms if I needed to and supporting someone through an emotional breakdown isn’t exactly in his wheelhouse.

I don’t know what to make of that.

The alarm beeps on my phone. Time to get ready. I’ve already sent Kristi off to do the same. With any other party, I’d probably have professionals on hand to do hair and makeup if the stakes were high, but that’s not the case here.

Up in my room, wrapped in my robe, I think of my interactions with Vinny as I put on my makeup.

What does he want from me? He says I have nothing to prove, but he was the one who took one look at me and decided who I was from the get-go. What’s changed since then, and is it lasting?

People always say they want to see everything, even the ugly parts, until they’re actually confronted with them.

Besides, it’s not like Vinny is exactly forthcoming about his deepest secrets. Maybe I hide behind my giving, but he’s hiding too.

My own words come back to me. Relationships are worth the mess that comes with them. Spoken like a true hypocrite.

Tonight is not a night for subtlety. I opt for bold makeup: black, winged out liner and scarlet lips. My dress is just as sexy as I remember, and I love the open back. Normally I wear my hair up at these events—I need to project professionalism, but tonight I decide to curl it into loose waves and leave it down.

Since my leopard print Jimmy Choos are sleeping with the fishes, I make do with a pair of lace-up high-heeled booties.

I check myself out in the full-length mirror, and I’m happy with what I see. I hope Vinny will be too. Who knows. Maybe we’ll just have tonight, and maybe that will be enough.

I run into Kristi. She’s wearing the plum colored dress we’d picked out for her. It shows off her hourglass figure and her thick glossy black hair tumbles down to her waist.

“Damn,” I say, drawing the word out as long as I can. “Shit, Kristi. You look incredible.”

She’s wearing earrings that remind me of the chandeliers in the ballroom—shiny and gorgeous. Maybe before long she’ll have a ring to add to it.

All my jewelry is at home or at the bottom of the Atlantic.

Kristi laughs. “Girl, I know. My makeup is fucking on point. I’ve never done such a good cat eye before. The Christmas gods smile upon me.” She folds her hands in prayer. “Or maybe it’s just you. Seraphina?”

“I was born on Christmas,” I say, putting an arm around Kristi’s waist. “The seraphim are angels of the highest order, associated with light, ardor, and purity.”

“What the fuck is ardor?”

“Passion. Enthusiasm.”

“Sounds about right. Could do without the purity though.”

“Me too.”

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