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Authors: Tracy Rozzlynn

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BOOK: Fast-Tracked
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But it did.

Avery felt my lack of participation and pulled away. He gave me a bewildered and confused look. But he didn’t make me re-explain my feelings. Instead he gave me a slight smile and said, “I should go.”

I smiled weakly back. He turned, and quickly left my apartment, leaving me alone with my torn up feelings.

 

Chapter 13

 

After a restless night of sleep I managed to drag myself down to my first class of the day with Mrs.
Glabough
. Fortunately today’s lesson plan was simply a review of yesterday’s brainstorming. She might have mistaken my quiet demeanor for intent listening. But really, all I was doing was replaying the events from the gala over and over again in my head. I berated myself for being so oblivious to the blatant signs that could have saved me from the whole ordeal:
Dwighton’s
lustful glare, the way everything he said somehow sounded like he had an inside joke, his insistence on finding a more secluded area to talk and him locking the door behind us. Those were just a few of the things that should have alerted me to danger. But I had been too ambitious to pay them any heed.

 

I was surprised to find Avery waiting outside of my classroom. He wanted to have breakfast with me before my next class began. He led me down to the cafeteria. It had been completely transformed since school began and the rest of the fast-trackers arrived. No longer did I have to wait in line to fill my own tray: now waitresses and waiters served us all at linen clad tables.

Avery led me to a small table for two and immediately a waitress appeared to ask us what we wanted. Avery barked out our orders and the girl disappeared. Usually I would have protested his assumption that I couldn’t order for myself, but I was too busy staring at the blossoming bruises on his knuckles.

He noticed the direction of my stare and hid his hands by crossing his arms on the table.

“Is he dead?” I asked.

“No.” There was
a finality
to his expression and tone that told me the matter was not to be brought up again. It was an icy, cold, hard expression that frightened me. But as soon as I blinked it was gone. “Are you planning on attending the inaugural celebration of the Wessington Museum’s opening?” Avery asked in an overly pleasant tone.

I forced my tone to match his and answered, “Yes. I’ve always liked museums; it should be fun.”

“I’ll pick you up at six. We can get dinner before.”

I never answered him, because the waitress returned with our food and drinks. Either way, apart from out of politeness there was no point in an answer. Was there?

I ate most of the meal in silence, only pausing to answer miscellaneous attempts at small talk from Avery. But he really didn’t seem all that interested in talking and quickly let the conversation drop.

 

The teachers in all of my morning classes seemed pleased with my silence. They must have taken it as a sign that I had come around to their way of thinking. I simply didn’t have the energy to correct them. I still didn’t agree, but I was beginning to doubt if another way to power existed for me, other than what they were promoting.

 

I was relieved when lunchtime finally arrived. I had no problem finding
Autumn
in the lunch crowd. Even if she hadn’t been at the largest, most ornately decorated table, I would have spotted her. She had a presence that demanded the attention of the room.

Once again she took the time to introduce me to everyone, but this time she didn’t bother whispering the who’s who into my ear. Instead she blatantly announced it to the entire table. I assume the main difference was that now everyone was our age and really wasn’t anyone. The worth of these people was determined by their parents – at least until they married or inherited.

I also noticed, with only a few exceptions, the status of the parents determined where each girl sat around the table. The more powerful, the closer they sat to
Autumn
. So it took a little effort to keep my jaw from dropping open when she motioned to a waitress for a chair and told me to sit down next to her.

“So you’re the one who snagged our Avery’s attention,” a curly-topped brunette named Gracie purred and gave me a disproving glare. I assumed my taking her spot on
Autumn’s
right had something to do with the look.

“Oh don’t bother asking, she’ll just insist the two of them are only friends,”
Autumn
interjected before redirecting the conversation to shoes, clothes and gossip.

Gossip upon more gossip seemed to be their favorite topic. No one was safe, but the
newbies
seemed to be their favorite subject. I hadn’t met them yet, but apparently there were six male
newbies
living on the sixth floor and one of them was extraordinarily hot. And everyone was debating who would claim him as their own or if he would be stupid enough to try playing the field. It took me a while to figure out that the ‘who’ they were debating over were women their parents’ age. Most of them were widowed, but a few that they brought up were still married. It took most of my effort to hide my shock. Morals were clearly in short supply with all of the fast-trackers.

Once they got bored with the newbie boys they moved onto the newbie girls. No one had anything nice to say. In fact they took pleasure in guessing who would be the first girl to flee. When I asked what they meant, they explained it was just a matter of time until most of the girls fled to silver jobs and silver marriages. They were all under the impression that the smarter ones would do it sooner rather than later.

I was tempted to ask just where I fell on their list, but then they might have actually given me their honest answers. Autumn seemed to sense my unease and redirected everyone to the latest fashion faux pas. It was surprisingly educational. I had thought I might be going overboard trying to develop a signature color, but listening to the girls I realized I wasn’t giving my fashion nearly enough attention. The wrong choice of shoes or style of hair could quickly cost one favor with the other girls. But the more I listened the more I realized there was much more too it. The fashion blunders were simply the outlet of choice for some other underlying drama that the girls couldn’t publicly air. So if someone had it in for you and had the social pull necessary, even the best fashion sense couldn’t save you from their public ridicule.

 

Eventually I was able to get
Autumn
by herself and ask her what had been nagging me all morning. “Do you know what happened to
Dwighton
?” I candidly asked.

“Well you certainly have a way of getting to the point,” she critiqued. “Why do you care? The man was a sleaze who wanted to have his way with you.”
 
She dismissed my concern with a wave.

“If I was the cause of a man’s death, I’d at least like to know about it. I’m not a baby who needs to be coddled and protected from information,” I protested. Although truth
be
told, I did want to be protected. As much as I disliked Jett
Dwighton
, I didn’t want to be the cause of his death or his suffering. I would have been happy to just pretend the whole incident never happened.

“No, you just need to be protected from yourself.” She started to laugh, but my look made her stop. “Alright, fine. I don’t know the exact details, but I can guess. Shortly after you left, two of Avery’s men came to escort
Dwighton
from the party. He made quite the
scene,
begging and pleading to everyone he’d ever met for help. Maybe if the poor slob had spent more time climbing socially instead of just financially someone might have stood up for him, but everyone easily dismissed him and allowed Avery’s men to do their job.” Autumn stopped to check her hair in the reflection of the polished black marble wall of the hallway.

“Then what happened to him?” I prompted

“Well based on how enraged Avery was, I suspect
Dwighton
was beaten to a bloody pulp before having all of his status stripped from him and landing in the orange section.” Autumn’s expression showed just how much she would have liked to witness the events. It churned my stomach.

“Wait, you said Avery was enraged. Did he come back to the party after dropping me off?” I wondered.

“Oh, that’s right. You haven’t known Avery all that long have you? You see,
Zandria
, usually when Avery gets mad everyone around him knows it. He hollers, threatens, and occasionally shoves around the object of his anger. To see him last night so desperately holding on to his composure was frightening. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that mad and I suspect
Dwighton
was just begging to get dropped off in the orange section by the time Avery was done with him.” The malicious glint in
Autumn’s
eyes was unmistakable.

“Oh.” That was all I could say. I was at a loss for words.

“I just wish I could affect a guy half as well as you have Avery. I mean seriously, didn’t you notice him at lunch? He didn’t take his eyes off you the whole time. One of these days I’ll figure out your secret. I know it has to be more than simply playing hard to get.”

Feeling uncomfortable, I tried to redirect the conversation. “So what happens to all that
Dwighton
owned?”

“He had no family. So Avery takes it, of course. Not that there’s anything he can really do with it. It was just a chain of specialty food stores. I don’t really think Avery has any interest in that kind of business – plus I heard
Dwighton
was running it all in the red. Avery will probably sell off the inventory and reuse the buildings for something else, or sell them off too.” The casual way
Autumn
answered the questioned should have shocked me, but I was intrigued by the idea it had sparked in my head.

“So if the company is that much in the red, he really has no choice but to sell everything off?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Oh no, the debt doesn’t transfer over with new ownership. The business just isn’t worth Avery’s time,”
Autumn
answered without realizing the impact of what she had said.

“Oh. Well it sounds like any trace of
Dwighton
will soon be gone from this world,” I responded. Somehow I felt it was best to downplay my interest in his business.

Autumn seemed to buy my act, because she began talking about tonight’s museum opening. She was concerned that I wouldn’t wear the right gown, but as soon as I told her I was wearing the black rose ball gown she had seen on me, she was happy.

 

My afternoon classes went by a lot more quickly. The other girls and the classes were as insufferable as ever. But
Autumn
had given me a new plan and with it came renewed hope. So the girls didn’t bother me as much. My renewed class participation did, however, seem to grind on their nerves – but I couldn’t help myself when the topic of mentors and patrons came up.

As much as I disliked the group of girls I still felt they deserved fair warning. Unfortunately they took my warnings as an attempt to scare them away from my social circle.

“Just because you sleep with anyone that asks doesn’t mean we will,” Vera sneered.

“Oh, can you please grow up for two seconds and listen to what I’m telling you? You need to be careful.” But I already knew it was pointless. “If it wasn’t for Avery’s influence I would be nothing to any of them but a potential conquest,” I admitted in a last ditch effort to make them believe me. I started to shake from the wave of emotions it bought up.

I couldn’t tell if any of them decided to believe me or not. Vera just rolled her eyes and they all turned back to face the teacher and ignored me. But I had at least tried. What more could I do?

 

 

“Oh, for crying out loud!”
I exclaimed when I got back to my apartment. I had noticed a bulge to my garbage bag when I got home. Upon examination I discovered it was full of pink powder. I disposed of the bag and reviewed my security tape. The nitwit girls had finally found the right powder to prank with. Yet they still hadn’t realized it was my preparation, not the
powder, that
had prevented their previous attempt from working.

Either way, now I had a tape of Vera and Nola to add to the first tape.
Of course having the tapes didn’t do me a bit of good if I didn’t do something about them. I had gotten distracted the first time, but this time I would make sure that didn’t happen. Avery was right: the recordings were powerful evidence. Easily enough to get them to stop the pranks, and continue to hold over them in case I needed a future favor.

All of the sudden, the girls and their
pranking
gave me a crazy idea. Autumn had all but said Jett
Dwighton’s
biggest problem was that he had only focused on the business side of his power. He had forgotten two other important aspects: making friends and mutual assured destruction. If my crazy idea worked, I could socialize my butt off and at the same time collect all the secrets and dirt I needed to prevent what happened to
Dwighton
from ever happening to me.

The first thing I’d need to do was some shopping, but that would have to wait until later. I had to get ready. Avery would be here soon to bring me to dinner and then to the museum. So I quickly showered, put on my make-up, and styled my hair. I had just finished putting my dress on when Avery knocked at the door.

BOOK: Fast-Tracked
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