Page 31 of Unapologetic Obsession
Amelie tried to steer the conversation in a new direction, resorting to gossip about the other staff members and passengers. The high-spirited effort failed to distract me, though I smiled at the expected pauses.
But I could only focus on one thing. I had assumed Dr. Maxwell was meant to be the onboard physician. It turned out that something happened last night that changed his mind, and the only thing that came to mind was the homeless girl he caught sneaking into his boat.
Chapter
Twelve
ROSE
Past
“Thank God you’re here!”Sophie screeched, clawing at my wrist as soon as I walked through the front doors of the Student Banquet Center. “I’ve been waiting forever. I thought you bailed.”
She paused upon noticing my outfit, quizzically eyeing my red lips and cocktail dress. My outfit for the annual Alumni Fundraiser was ordinary when compared to the bulky rose-gold snake chain wrapped around Sophie’s neck and her sequined black dress. It accentuated every curve of her body, putting mine to shame. Nonetheless, my knee-length dress was racier than usual. Whatever she thought of my choice, she chose to keep it to herself.
Sophie was one of my childhood friends. Although I was still not a regular chatterbox, I felt comfortable speaking around her and my cousins.
She grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the crowd. “I would’ve been pissed if you didn’t come tonight. What took you so long?”
I glanced at my phone. “It’s four fifty-five. The fundraiser doesn’t start for another five minutes.”
Despite what people—and Sophie—thought, I never missed the chance to attend big functions. At intimate gatherings, there was pressure to engage in conversation, but at large affairs, you could get lost in a sea of faces. These events were perfect for someone like me. I could socialize without the pressure to converse.
Sophie didn’t hold these events in the same reverence. “Kill me, now,” she groaned. “I can’t believe my parents make me organize this stupid event every year. Like, do they think we want to party with our parents?” The moment she said it, she remembered my parents, who were MIA. She watched me warily out of the corner of her eye. “Is your dad coming tonight?”
Tonight’s fundraiser was organized by the Alumni Committee, though Sophie seemed to confuse it with a party. The event was held on campus, and the attendees were NewTech alumni, such as Sophie’s parents. While most parents were involved in the planning process, my father had no idea this event was even happening. His assistant generally sent a check on his behalf.
I studied the mushroom-colored linens on the round banquet tables and the muted insignias. The committee had gone all out this year with fall decorations, giant bamboo leaves as centerpieces, and servers dressed in taupe colors. “Nope. He’s in Barcelona for work.” Or was it London?
Since I was old enough to remember, Papa had always been pulled away on important business trips. But ever since my attack, he actively sought reasons to stay away. It started astring of fights between my parents. Papa blamed Mom for not keeping an eye on me. How else could I have been attacked in our backyard? Mom blamed him for not being around more. The scars on my body wouldn’t let them forget the gruesome day, and they weren’t on brand with our aesthetic home and perfect lives. They had begged me to consider plastic surgery, but I was terrified. I couldn’t do it, and they couldn’t bear to look at me. People didn’t have the stomach to look at the new me, and I learned it was best to cover up.
In the end, my parents separated, though they never got divorced. My father took every opportunity to leave town, and my mother returned to her first love—acting. The extent of our relationship was the sporadic weekends she came around for a mother-daughter yacht trip.
“I’m sorry,” Sophie offered with genuine sympathy laced in her voice.
She didn’t have to feel sorry for me. The years had numbed the pain of my lukewarm relationship with my inattentive parents. I was apathetic toward them.
Sensing a dip in the festive mood, Sophie changed the topic. “Hey, how’s your hot cousin, Poppy?”
“Still only eighteen.” Sophie was bisexual and had harbored a crush on my cousin for months. I told her Poppy was too young for her, but she was relentless in her pursuit.
“I don’t see the problem. Eighteen is legal, and you said that she likes both boys and girls.”
“Doesn’t matter. Poppy is super focused on school. She only expresses interest in romance during winter or summer breaks when school’s out of session.”
“That’s odd.”
“That’s Poppy.” I narrowed my eyes. “But whatever she’s into, leave her alone. She’s too young for you.”
“No promises.”
“Rose! Hey! Wait up.”
Our conversation stopped when another voice called out from across the room. We turned to find Matt jogging toward us, looking incredibly handsome in slacks and a midnight blue jacket with a polo shirt underneath. It was the universal attire for the younger men at these events.
I raised my head once he reached us since he was so much taller than me.
“Hey, Sophie.” He gave her a polite smile before turning to face me. “Rose, you look great.” He gestured at my champagne-colored cocktail dress, his eyes fleeting to the curve of my waist.
