Page 20 of Ella's Masquerade
The blue ball gown was totally over the top for Homecoming.
I loved it.
And more importantly, Ryan and Carmen would hate it.
Two birds, one stone.
I just had to keep my wits about me to determine Tray’s true motives, and it’d be a successful night. Well, apart from not knowing enough about him yet to write his biography. He was evasive at every turn, refusing to tell me where he attended school before the academy or how he had all these contacts throughout Darlington. It wasn’t a large town, yet I’d never heard of him until this week. And it seemed Charlie and Dash hadn’t either.
So who are you really?I thought as I picked up my blue clutch—another purchase I’d made just to round out Tray’s bill—and started toward the exit to where Tray waited for me. He hadn’t bothered to help with the dress selection or anything else, just introduced me to the team, handed over his card, and said he’d be outside if we needed anything.
As he’d set no limit to the expense, I had a little fun.
No, a lot of fun.
I wrapped my gloved fingers—another extravagant accessory—around the door handle and pulled it open.
Tray leaned against a limo parked next to the curb, his hands tucked into his suit pants and his focus on the starless night above. There was a hint of longing in his features, one that seemed to be distracting him from my arrival.
I cleared my throat to announce my presence.
He blinked and slowly drew his gaze to me, his irises reminding me of the black sky overhead as they heated in response to my attire. A slight shiver caressed my spine at the obvious approval in those dark, smoldering orbs. “You look gorgeous, Ella,” he murmured.
I shrugged. “Yeah, it’s amazing what a pound of makeup and a hairstylist can do. The dress isn’t too bad either.”
His lips curled as he shook his head, his messy auburn hair windblown from the incoming cold front. October in Massachusetts could go either way. Tonight seemed to be hinting at an icy winter to come.
Tray pushed off the limo, his eyes twinkling in the night as he stepped into my personal space to grab my hip. “It’s not the accessories that make you beautiful, Ella. It’s you.” He pressed his lips to my temple before moving to the side to offer his arm. “Shall we?”
I wanted to protest his compliment, but I bit my tongue and nodded instead. We were almost to the part where he revealed his true intentions. I’d let him think I believed this silly little game until then.
“Thank you,” I said as he helped me into the limo. My skirt took up half of the backseat, something that seemed to amuse him as he pushed some of the fabric aside to settle beside me. “What happened to your car?” I wondered out loud.
“Why? Do you prefer it over this extravagance?” he asked, picking up a platter of chocolate-covered strawberries and holding it out for me to pick one.
Indulging in one would ruin my lipstick. But I had a spare in my bag, thanks to the makeup lady. Another cost added to Tray’s account, no doubt.
I set my clutch to the side, plucked a big berry from the center, and took a bite instead of replying to what I assumed was a rhetorical question on his part. It seemed Trayton Nacht preferred countering inquiries rather than actually answering them.
He watched as I finished the berry, his attention on my mouth. I licked the juice from my lips and took another treat. Because why not? They were good and I’d always enjoyed strawberries.
The limo began to move, causing butterflies to stir in my belly. We were almost two hours late for the dance, which meant everyone would be there when we arrived—something I suspected might be the point of all this.
I took a third strawberry and waved the rest away, not able to stomach any more. They were delicious, but my nerves were getting the best of me.
Tray set the plate aside and turned to me. “Are you ready for a little experiment, Ella?”
“Depends on the experiment,” I replied, my insides twisting. Maybe the third berry was a bad idea. I shifted to place it on the platter and focused on him. “Why are you doing this?”
He chuckled. “I already told you why.”
“I want your real reason, Tray.” Because I didn’t buy for one second that he just wanted to help me seek retribution. There had to be another motive. No one did things out of the goodness of their heart. And this guy barely knew me. “Who put you up to this?” I asked, taking a new path in my questioning. “Ryan? Carmen?”
He huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Give me tonight, Ella. I promise that, by the end, you’ll understand.”
Meaning he intended to reveal some of his cards at the dance.
Fine.
