Not So Star-Crossed

CH 1: Another year, the feud goes on

Warren Estates.  South Hampton, New York.  Saturday, August 19th.  7:45pm

"It was a really simple procedure actually. Dr. Watkins did a spectacular job. I almost look as young as Ava over there." Christina Jenkins, one of my mother's obnoxious snobby friends boasted about her face lift as she waved her martini glass in my direction. My mother was sitting on the left side of me with a halfhearted smile. I don't think she really bought it. After all Christina resembles one of those puppet dolls from The Dummy.

"Dear, what it would be like to be 17 again." My mother said dreamily and all the women around the table nodded in agreement, one by one starting to share stories from their youth.

I took a deep breath leaning back into the plush leather seat I was now forced to occupy as I scanned the area around me, trying to not be bored out of my mind.

Callan Warren, a multi-millionaire 58-year-old play boy (man respectively) was hosting a reception for his 6th wedding and since everyone in South Hampton adored attending events by people who made a 7-figure salary it seemed like the whole town had shown up.

While Callan Warren was a notorious creep, I had to give him props because the reception itself was stunning. The guests sat under a plain white canopy tent in the vast land his estate had to offer. Each table was adorned with a bouget of white roses in a solid gold vase. At the head of the tent was the wedding party which consisted of Callan Warren himself, his 27-year-old bottle blond bride, Misty, her equally fake looking bridesmaids in horrendous puffy magenta dresses, and a few older gentlemen that passed as the groomsmen. The contrast between the two wedding parties was almost painful to look at but since this was South Hampton no one thought twice about the pairing.

Surrounding our table were equally wealthy men and their botox injected dates. The single men at their tables who sported Rolexes and expensive designer shoes were either being shamelessly hit on by attractive women in skin tight dresses or scanning the area for their next victim. To my dismay an older looking gentleman who seemed to be balding in the back caught my eye and sent a wink in my direction.

I would have gagged if my mother wasn't sitting directly beside me and would have claimed how unlady like I was being.

And speaking of being unlady like...

"She is not coming over here!" My mother leaned in closer to her squad of trophy wives, her almond eyes fierce as she looked at each of her friends for back up.

"Who does she think she is anyways? Marrying Vance Collingsworth 10 years ago will not erase that fact that you were born on a farm." Christina Jenkins shrills tossing her overly dyed red locks over her shoulder.

Welcome to South Hampton everyone! Where high school truly never ends!

I suppress an eye roll as my gaze falls on Evelynn Collingsworth. The curvy blonde was most definitely making her way to our table and from the looks of it she meant business.

Once she finally arrived in her done up kitten heels she plopped right down in the empty seat across from my mother who was shooting daggers in her direction.

"Alaina, you look stunning. Did you do something to your hair?" Evelynn's pale blue eyes looked my mother over in a territorial manner.

"Not since the last time we unfortunately ran into each other." My mother responded coldly side eyeing Christina who seemed to be ready to throw an insult if need be.

God, how I'd rather be anywhere but here right now.

"Right. Maybe you're just covering up the grey better." Evelynn let out a simple giggle but watching my mom adjust her posture and lean forward, her eyes locking on her target made chills run down my spine. Evelynn Collingsworth was truly a ballsy woman.