Then, of course, there was Sebastian, who was still looking for his father’s killer, despite the fact that the cops had nothing to go on, no witnesses, no evidence, and absolutely no suspects. The Vaughn murder was rapidly becoming a cold case, and everyone knew it, including Sebastian.
Still, after the initial shock wore off, Sebastian didn’t seem all that upset by his father’s death. Several times, he let it slip that Vaughn wasn’t the stand-up guy he’d pretended to be. He never said anything about his father abusing Charlotte, but I was beginning to think that he’d suspected that something was going on. But as soon as he said something to that effect, Sebastian would look away from me, guilt flaring in his eyes, not wanting to speak ill of his beloved papa.
Still, despite the memories, my lingering guilt, and my growing feelings for him, I had no delusions about telling Sebastian what I’d done to his father. That was a stupid way to get a ticket to death row, no matter what kind of relationship we had or how much I thought he cared about me. But more than once, I had to bite my lip to keep from telling Sebastian that he was exactly right about his father and that he and Charlotte were better off without Vaughn in their lives.
“What are you thinking about?” A whispered voice broke into my thoughts.
I focused on Sebastian. The two of us were lying on a thick blanket in the shade of the greenhouse, having enjoyed a picnic of fried chicken, macaroni salad, fresh summer vegetables, and all the other fixings that I’d made at the Pork Pit. “I was thinking how nice it is to be here with you. Just the two of us.”
Sebastian smiled. “Just the two of us. I like the sound of that.” He hesitated. “Actually, I need to ask you something.”
I froze, thinking that he’d somehow figured out my involvement in his father’s death. The same paranoid conclusion that I jumped to every single time he asked me a question. And once again, I wasn’t sure what I would say if he ever found out the truth.
“I’m going ahead with the event that my father was planning for this weekend,” Sebastian said. “The party marking his and Charlotte’s birthdays. Only now it will be a celebration of his life too. I was wondering if you’d be my date.”
Despite the fact that part of me wanted to say yes, I hesitated. I’d already known that Sebastian was going through with the party, thanks to Fletcher’s sources. The problem was that it was going to be a huge event, with people coming in from all over Ashland and beyond. Even Finn had managed to wrangle an invitation, thanks to his internship at the bank. Everyone who was anyone in the city would be at the party, if only out of curiosity about Vaughn’s murder, and Sebastian would be the center of attention.
And so would I, if I agreed to this.
“Please,” he said, sensing my hesitation. “It’ll be fun. I promise. Plus, I figured that it was time for us to be seen out in public together. I’ve kept you all to myself for too long. Don’t you agree?”
His voice took on a light, teasing note, and I finally smiled, giving in to his request. “But I don’t have anything to wear.” I paused. “Unless you think that showing up in my waiter outfit is okay.”
He chuckled, then waved his hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything. All you have to do is get dressed and show up. Please, Gin? This is really important to me. A final way to honor my father.”
It was the soft “please” that did me in, despite the guilt that tightened my stomach again. What was it about Sebastian that made it so hard for me to deny him anything? “Okay,” I said. “Just tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.”
“It’s a date,” he whispered.
Sebastian drew me into the warm circle of his arms, and I forgot about the rest of the world and all the worries that went with it.
For tonight, anyway.
I smoothed down the fabric of the dress I was wearing. “I’m not sure about this. It’s a little . . . fancier than I thought it would be.”
I stood in front of a full-length mirror in my bedroom, staring at the gown that Sebastian had sent over to the Pork Pit for me to wear. It was the night of his party, and I’d spent the last hour getting dressed. Now I was all ready to go, even if I was freaking out about my dress.
It was a beautiful gown, a Fiona Fine original according to the hand-stitched tag, so I knew that Sebastian had paid a pretty price for it. The dress had wide straps covered with large, milky moonstones that gleamed underneath the lights. The straps led down to a tight, corseted bodice, also covered with jewels, before the gems gave way to soft, muted silver fabric, and the rest of the dress cascaded into a rippling skirt that flowed like a river of silk around my legs. Three-inch stilettos in the same silver covered my feet. He’d even sent over a small silver purse, although the only things I’d put into it were some lip balm, a pack of tissues, and one of my knives.
I saw this and thought of your beautiful eyes. That’s what a note in the box with the dress said. I didn’t know about that, but it was definitely the finest garment I’d ever worn.
“Well, I think it looks wonderful, darling,” a firm voice cut in.
A pair of clear, almost colorless eyes met mine in the mirror, and the dwarf smiled at me, her white-blond curls looking even more exquisite than my own.
Jolene “Jo-Jo” Deveraux had come over an hour ago to do my hair and makeup, and her efforts more than matched the gorgeous gown. Jo-Jo had expertly piled my dark brown hair high on top of my head into a simple bun, leaving only a few, softly curled wisps free to brush along my face. She’d rimmed my eyes with silver liner and a smoky black shadow and painted my lips a dark blue, almost the same shade as the dozen roses that Sebastian had sent along with the dress. All put together, I looked like some glittering Goth princess, and I felt that way too.
I sashayed from side to side, watching the dress swish around my body and taking in my reflection in the mirror. No waiter uniform tonight. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, though. Fletcher had taught me how to blend in with the shadows, but this dress would definitely make me stand out in the crowd.
“Jo-Jo’s right,” a rough voice said behind me. “You look real pretty.”
I turned to see Fletcher leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, still wearing his blue work clothes from the Pork Pit. He hadn’t said much when I’d told him that Sebastian wanted me to attend the party as his date, but the old man had given me a sad, almost disappointed look that I hadn’t quite been able to decipher. Tonight, though, his face was carefully neutral. It made me love him even more to see how hard he was trying to let me go have a good time without mentioning his misgivings about Sebastian yet again.