The Complete Private Collection: Private; Invitation Only; Untouchable; Confessions; Inner Circle; Legacy; Ambition; Revelation; Last Christmas; Paradise ... The Book of Spells; Ominous; Vengeance (117 page)

Butler? Of course she had a butler.

“Will overnight suffice, or do you need it sooner? I could have my driver bring it up to you this afternoon if need be.”

A laugh bubbled up in my throat, but I choked it back. Where were the white rabbit and the Mad Hatter? Shouldn’t I be getting some tea about now? “No, thank you. Tomorrow will be fine. Thank you so much, Ms. Korman.”

“Please. It’s Jenna. No need to thank me. That’s why we’re here,” she replied. “And congratulations, Reed. We’re all proud to have you assume the presidency.”

“Thank you,” I replied.

“Good-bye.”

There was a click and the connection died, but I sat there holding the phone for a good ten seconds more. I could not believe that had worked. Could not believe how easy it had been. She had known who I was. Her assistant had known who I was. And just like that, I was in. I started to understand what being president of Billings really meant. Open doors, answered calls . . . respect.

I turned and pulled out my desk chair, removing the Chloé bag. It had been hidden there since the night I’d received it. I opened it up, took out the Neiman Marcus catalog, and started shoving my things inside the leathery softness.

I hadn’t really realized it before, but until this moment, I had felt unworthy of carrying the bag.

Not anymore.

I raced down the soccer field opposite Noelle on Wednesday afternoon, Bernadette Baskin right on my heels. The sun was just starting to dip behind the trees, which meant that at any second, Coach Lisick would call practice, and I wanted to score before she blew the whistle. I needed to score.

Forcing a burst of energy, I surged ahead suddenly, leaving Bernadette in my dust. With barely a glance, Noelle saw I was open and passed me the ball. A perfect, gunshot pass, so fast the center had no chance of catching up to it. As I approached the goal I looked left, and Astrid, who for some reason Lisick had decided to try out in goal, totally went for it. She jumped to her right, vaulting herself into the air, and I easily jammed the ball into the far corner of the net.

“Yes!” Noelle cheered, pumping her fist.

We jogged across the pitch to meet in the center and slapped hands and hugged. If it was good to have Noelle back at Billings, it was almost
as good to have her back on the team. We needed her aggressive play. No one on the field was her equal.

“All right, ladies! Nice practice!” Coach Lisick called out after a bleat on her whistle. “Come get a drink and then hit the showers!

“Solid effort,” Astrid said, jogging over to join us. She had tied her short black hair up in two ponytails that stuck straight up from her head like antennae. “You do know I gave you that last one, right?” she joked.

“That British wit slays me,” Noelle said with a wry smile. She hooked her arm heavily over my shoulders. “So, did you get it?”

“Oh, I got it,” I replied.

“Got what?” Astrid asked.

“The Legacy invite,” I whispered. “It’s in my bag.”

“Well, let’s have it, then!” Astrid cried.

“Shh! Not here. On the way back to Billings,” I replied.

At the water jug we were joined by Sabine, who, after displaying an inherent fear of the ball and a complete lack of speed during her first few practices, had been appointed equipment manager. She handed me and Astrid paper cups, ignoring Noelle, who rolled her eyes and grabbed her own, filling it to the brim. I bit my tongue to keep from saying anything to Sabine, but I was going to have to make her understand one of these days. Noelle was not a person you wanted to mess with. Or shun. No matter how she treated you.

“Nice goal,” Sabine said to me with a smile. “No offense,” she added to Astrid.

“None taken,” Astrid replied.

“Let’s go,” Noelle said crumpling her cup and launching it at the garbage can. “I want to see this thing.”

“Wait. Let’s help Sabine clean up first and carry the stuff down,” I said.

“Reed, come on. Frenchie can handle it,” Noelle said as if Sabine weren’t even there. “It
is
her job.”

My face burned on Sabine’s behalf. Maybe Josh was right about Noelle creating drama. Sabine had never done a thing to offend her. The girl was completely innocuous. And yet Noelle seemed determined to make her feel like some poseur geek who didn’t belong.

“It’s all right. You two go. I’ll help Sabine,” Astrid offered.

“Aw! Isn’t that sweet? Britain and France, working together! It’s all so United Nations I could cry.” Noelle put her arm around me again. “Now let’s go.” She forcibly swung me around and headed for the hill. I barely had time to grab my duffel bag before she dragged me off. “Where is it?” she asked, eyeing my bag greedily.

“Okay, okay. God, I’d hate to see you on Christmas morning,” I replied. I pulled out the opened FedEx envelope and extracted the thick, ivory card. I had already inspected it at every chance I could for the last four hours, but the only thing even remotely interesting about it was the imprint of an orchid on the back. Other than that, there were no markings whatsoever. Not a company name, nothing.

“Well. This is helpful,” Noelle said sarcastically, handing it back to me with disgust, like it was a used tissue.

“I know. But I figure the orchid has to mean something,” I told her. “And I have an idea who might know.”

“Interesting,” Noelle said with a teasing smile. “One thing I always loved about you, Reed—you never were a quitter.”

I smiled as we opened the door to Billings. As usual at this time of day, London, Vienna, and a few of the other girls were hanging out in the parlor. I walked in and dropped my bags, still holding on to the invite.

“London, can I talk to you for a sec?” I asked.

Her eyes widened when she saw me, and she yanked the earbuds from her ears. “Is that it!?” She jumped up from her seat, tripped over Kiki’s legs, and almost fell into me. “Let me see! Let me see!”

She snatched the invite from my hands as the other girls gathered around her to peek over her shoulders. After reading over the info we had all long since memorized, she flipped the card over. Her finger traced the outline of the orchid and she smiled.

“Bouquet. This invitation came from Bouquet,” she said.

I knew it. I knew she would know. Everyone had her special talents. Even the Twin Cities.

“In Boston?” Rose asked.

“The one and only,” London said triumphantly, handing the card back to me. “They have all these different levels of card stock and design, and they imprint each invitation with a flower according to its price point. Orchid is the highest. Whoever bought these has some bank.”

Shocker.

“You know exactly where this place is?” I asked.

London rolled her eyes. “Please. I’ll get you the address and digits right now.”

She reached into her Bottega Veneta bag and pulled out her red Treo. After hitting a few buttons, she smiled. “Just zapped it to you.”

On cue, my iPhone beeped. I looked at Noelle. “So, Boston, huh?”

Noelle grinned in response. “Road trip!”

“We should make a day of it,” Noelle said as we sat down to breakfast Thursday morning. “Brunch at Azure, then some detective work, and then shopping. If we’re going to the Legacy, we’re going to need some couture.”

She tucked her plaid mini under her thighs and sat in the chair that had, until her return, been my chair. I sat down across from her, in Ariana’s regular seat. Either Josh or Sabine had been sitting here most of this year. Which had made it seem friendly again. But for some reason, in that chair, I just felt awkward.

“You’re forgetting something,” I said, attempting to focus. I picked up the top half of my bagel to spread some cream cheese.

“Like what?” she demanded. Like her forgetting something was unheard of.

“I won’t be going. Even if we fix the problem, I don’t get an invite,” I told her.

She shrugged, waving her knife in the air. “So? We’ll find someone with a plus one to take you. We did it last year.”

“But last year I wasn’t with Josh,” I replied. Technically I was “with” Thomas. Or so I had thought. But I had gone with Whit, because everyone had told me Thomas would be at the Legacy, and I needed to see him. Little did any of us know that, at that point, Thomas had already been dead for weeks. Rotting somewhere, alone in the woods, dead and cold and—

Okay. I wasn’t thinking about that. Not now.

This chair was bad for my psyche.

“I can’t just go with someone else,” I finished.

“Reed. This is about getting in. Not about how you get in,” Noelle said, in that tone that used to make me feel small. It still did, but not quite
as
small. “Once you’re there, you can hang out with your ball and chain as much as you want.”

I smirked. “So, how are we going to get to Boston?” I asked, attempting to focus. “I mean, even if we do get a pass from Cromwell . . . do we need to hire a car or something?

“No. I have a car,” Noelle said, taking a dainty bite of her bagel.

“You have a car. On campus?” I asked, incredulous.

“That was a total deal-breaker for Daddy in his negotiations with the Crom,” she said blithely.

I laughed. “The Crom. That makes him sound like a robot or something.”

“Well, he kind of is, no?” Noelle said, raising her brows as she bit into her bagel. “Anyway, don’t worry. I’ve got the passes covered.”

“Passes for what?” Josh asked, kissing me hello as he joined us. He dropped his tray full of doughnuts, sugar cereal, and coffee on the table, removed his battered corduroy jacket with its plaid elbow patches—a look only he could pull off—and draped it on the back of his chair. Underneath was a plain, long-sleeved white waffle tee with tiny paint spatters on one side.

“For Saturday,” Noelle told him. “Reed and I are going on a road trip.”

Josh dropped into his seat hard. “No, you’re not,” he said, surprised.

“Yeah. We’re going to Boston to check out the store where the Legacy invites came from. We’re gonna see if we can find out who bought them,” I told him, taking a sip of my juice.

“Nice. Want me to come? I can bring down the hurt if you need it,” Gage offered, straddling a chair.

“That won’t be necessary,” Noelle replied, rolling her eyes.

Josh turned fully in his seat to face me as the other chairs at the table started to fill up with my housemates. His blue eyes were serious. “Reed, aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked, his voice low.

My brows knit as I looked at him. I was a total blank. “What?

“We’re supposed to go to Maine on Saturday. The reunion?”

I felt like someone had just let all the air out of a balloon, right into my face. I was an idiot. A complete and total idiot. I hadn’t thought about the Hollis family reunion since I’d scribbled the date down in my English notebook Monday night. There had just been so many other things going on, I had completely spaced.

“Oh my God, Josh. I’m so sorry. I totally forgot,” I said, feeling suddenly warm. Everyone was watching us. I could feel it. Josh must have felt it too, because he leaned in closer to me, ducking his face behind mine, as if to hide from Gage.

“You have to come. I told my whole family you were going to be there,” he said.

“I know, but . . . Josh, this is huge,” I told him, pleading. “This is about saving the Legacy. Everyone at Easton is counting on this.”

Josh pulled back a little and looked me in the eye. I had never seen him look so hurt. “What about me? I’m counting on you too.”

There was a lump in my throat that was threatening to choke me. I felt awful. I did. But didn’t he get how important this was? As president of Billings, this was practically my job. I’d promised everyone I’d fix the situation. If I went back on that now, I’d look like a total flake and a failure, and I’d
just
gotten the job. Besides, the Hollises had this party every year. It wasn’t like this would be my only chance to go.

“Yeah, but even you said there would be hundreds of people there,” I reminded him. “No one’s going to notice if I’m not. You’ll be fine.”

“Dude, grow a pair,” Gage said loudly. “This is the Legacy we’re talking about. If Backwater Brennan’s gonna save it, I say let her save it. I mean, how selfish can you be?”

Josh stared at me. He was waiting for me to back down. I knew he was. But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. And as guilty as I felt about the reunion, I was irritated that he wanted me to go. On some level Gage was right. If we were going to figure this out before Halloween, every moment
counted. It was this weekend or nothing. If I didn’t fix this, all the Easton legacies were screwed. Didn’t he see that?

Dash would have seen it. He would have understood.

Something shifted in Josh’s eyes and he pulled away. “Fine. Whatever. I guess I can just tell them you’re sick.”

“That’s the spirit, Hollis,” Gage said, offering his fist for a bump. Josh ignored it and took a bite of a doughnut instead.

“Don’t worry, Josh. I’ll take good care of our girl,” Noelle said teasingly.

The wrong person saying the exact wrong thing. Josh shoved the rest of the doughnut in his mouth at once and didn’t speak again for the rest of the meal.

Noelle’s on-campus car was a slick silver Mercedes convertible with soft leather seats. With the top down, our sunglasses on, and her satellite radio blasting, we caught more than a few intrigued stares as we zoomed along the highway to Boston.

With day passes from our art history teacher to check out the Gauguin exhibit at the MFA, we had the entire day to do whatever we wanted. All we had to do was pop into the museum and pick up a map and some badges to prove that we’d been there, and we’d even get extra credit for the day. Noelle was an evil genius.

And best of all, when I’d checked my e-mail the night before, there had been no sign of Cheyenne’s note from beyond the grave. It was over. I was truly free.

After an incredible breakfast at Azure, a restaurant in a swank hotel in the heart of Boston, we walked to Bouquet. It was a beautiful, sunny day—the air clear and crisp with anticipation. I had never been
to Boston in the daylight, and I found it even more beautiful than I could have imagined. The skinny, crooked streets; the ancient brick buildings; the old-fashioned torch street lamps; the gold plates on various buildings, outlining their rich histories. Washington slept here. Jefferson ate there. Soon I found myself in a quaint shopping district where eager shoppers popped in and out of pristine shops filled with autumn clothes and winter coats. I had eaten so much I felt like I was in a food coma as I followed Noelle along the packed sidewalk. Not an easy scene to navigate on four mimosas, but I managed not to knock anyone over, I think. Taking a deep breath, I just felt free. It was good to be away from Easton and Billings and all the pressure and guilt. I knew it was traitorous, but I couldn’t help feeling that I had already had more fun than I would have had all day at the Hollis family reunion.