Lily |18+ [Paraíso, #1]

thirty eight

|J U L I A|

Call it intuition but there's something odd with the entire Jennings family.

From the way Penelope acts around me, like I'm a long-lost relative she's been reunited with, to the fond glances her husband directs my way. And not to forget their equally just as confusing daughter—Harper—who I'm currently conversing with. Well, she's talking. I'm just nodding along, occasionally glancing around to see if Jake's arrived yet.

The auditorium rented out for the party is as glamorous and lavish as the people inside it. It has that medieval Romanesque feel to it with a large banquet hall.

When we first arrived at the venue, my first thought was how I was going to climb up the steps in my gown. It might seem vain but when you're wearing a dress that cost you thousands of dollars, the thought of tripping on your feet as you climb up the steps tends to make you paranoid and worried about splitting and tearing it. Thereby causing an inconsiderable amount of pain, not to mention embarrassment and quite possibly ending up becoming a template for a meme for all eternity.

Arthur had helped me up the steps, matching my slow steps as I carefully made sure not to step on the hem of my forest green Givenchy dress. I may not be the hugest fan of my mother right now but she did instill in me the importance of making a statement fashion-wise at any event.

My real worry came from the decision to change my hair's color. It's still auburn but I went a little heavier on the copper highlights I insisted on getting. Now it leans more toward strawberry blonde.

My phone vibrates in my hand and I look down to see a text from Jake on my notification window.

Where are u right now?

I look around, hoping I'll find him eagerly searching the room for me the same way I am.

In the ballroom, trying not to stab everyone who keeps on asking where I've been all these years

An instant reply comes from him, Just look them in the eye and tell them to fuck off

I smile. That's such a Jake thing to say.

"I'm just saying," Harper's voice makes me look up from my phone. "Nothing feels better than the pure gratification when you make a man feel stupid for any sexist bullshit that comes out of his mouth."

I nod while frowning and at the same time, lauding her thought process. I wasn't concentrating on the first part but she doesn't seem to be bothered by that.

A waiter passes by us with a tray full of champagne flutes and Harper takes two glasses. She hands one to me.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Harper asks. "You seem out of it tonight."

Despite having my reservations on Harper when I first met her, she's proved to be quite the company. Never runs out of topics to talk about.
Didn't take long to figure out that Harper's brash personality is an exact replica of her father.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I tell her. "I'm just waiting for someone."

She sits up, uneasiness etched on her face. "Oh, um. . . I should probably go then."

"No, stay. It's much more bearable when I have someone to talk to." I curse inwardly, realizing how that might sound.  "I'm sorry, that came out wrong. It's just—"

Harper holds up a hand. "No need to explain yourself. If it makes you feel any better, I'm waiting for someone too. Hopefully, he gets his head out of his ass and actually shows up before I get to my seventh glass of the night."