Page 103 of Personal Foul

Dylan’s dad clears his throat again. “Well. Good for you too. So I’m sure you realize how important his future is to his mother and I as well.”

“Oh yes,” I murmur. “I’m well aware of what you want for your son.”

“Good. So we understand one another.”

I hum noncommittally, but he seems to take that as agreement and stands. That, or he said all he’s come to say, and he doesn’t actually care about my response. The more I think about it, the more I think that’s the most likely scenario.

I wait for him to reenter the ballroom before standing and slowly walking to the doors as well. When I slip inside, I scan the room, looking for Dylan. I find him off to the right near the wall, engaged in an intense discussion with his mother.

Is this a divide and conquer situation? They found us apart and so each of them approached us separately? Did Dylan’s dad see me leave the ballroom and follow me out, waiting to speak to me so it would seem like a happy accident? Or an unhappy accident in my case.

I drift closer to them, not sure what the best course of action is. Should I interrupt? Should I walk right up and slip my arm through Dylan’s? Or should I wait until they finish before approaching?

As I get closer, I realize they’re not trying very hard to keep their volume down. Either they’re both so wrapped up in the conversation that they don’t realize they’re nearly shouting, or they’re trusting in the ambient noise to cover their argument. To be fair, I’m not sure Dylan would care that much. Though I don’t think he’d want to ruin his sister’s engagement party. Whatever he might feel about his parents’ desires for him and his sister, I know he cares very much for his sister. They’re obviously close. And she knows more about me than his parents do, so he’s obviously talked to her about me as well.

”You think that matters?” reaches my ears, Dylan’s mom leaning in like she’s going for the jugular. “You don’t think the investigation itself has already tainted their family name? And I’ve asked around. It sounds like they’ll be charging him any day now. And then what?”

My ears ringing, I can’t hear the rest of what she says.

Does she have inside information my mom doesn’t have access to? From what Dylan said, she’s a well-connected attorney. It would make sense that she would have friends who know things. Especially with his dad’s political connections as well.

I need to sit down. I need to get out of here.

I shouldn’t have come. I should’ve known better. I’ve never fit in Dylan’s social circle, not even when my family had money. But now, with my dad on the brink of criminal charges, with my family falling apart and losing everything?

No. We were deluding ourselves.

Maybe Dylan’s parents were right. Maybe there is no point for them to get to know me.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

Dylan

Anger, frustration, and confusion swirl inside me as I move through the crowd, scanning the room for Charity. But she’s nowhere to be seen.

I make my way to Victoria and Cameron again. Maybe she couldn’t find me and went back to them?

But when I get to them, she’s nowhere to be found. “Have you seen Charity?” I ask my sister.

She breaks off her conversation with one of her friends, concern on her face as she turns to me and shakes her head. “No, the last I saw her she was with you. Where did she go?”

I shake my head, still looking around. “She went to the bathroom, but that was quite a while ago. She should be back by now.”

“What’s going on?” Cameron asks, drawing closer to us.

“Charity is missing,” Victoria tells him. To me she says, “Go check the hall by the bathroom. I’ll come with you in case she’s not out there. I can check the women’s room as well. She has to be around here somewhere.”

“It’s weird that she would be gone for this long. Right?” I ask Victoria, Cameron trailing behind us.

Victoria glances at me, her face still concerned. “She hasn’t been doing these kinds of events for half her life. It’s possible she just needed a break. Don’t you remember when we were teenagers and we would sneak into the kitchen for a while just to get away from everything?”

Blowing out a breath, I nod. She makes a good point. These kinds of events are overwhelming if you’re not used to them. Since Charity went to the same high school, I guess I always just assumed she got dragged along to these types of things too. But maybe her parents didn’t do that. Maybe they didn’t go to as many political fundraisers and charity galas as our family did.

So, okay. If she’s feeling overwhelmed, where would she go? Maybe Victoria’s right. Maybe she’s just been hiding in the bathroom this whole time. I’m pretty sure this hotel has a whole seating area in their ladies’ room. That’s probably where she is.

As we’re about to exit the ballroom, Mom hurries up to us. “Where do you three think you’re going?” she hisses. “We’re about to start the toasts. Victoria, Cameron, you can’t leave right now.”

“Too much champagne, Mom,” Victoria says without missing a beat. “We have to use the bathroom. You don’t want me doing a potty dance while you and Dad are toasting, do you?”

---