Agreements With Mr Rich Boy | ✓

28 | The Hidden Room

IT HAD BEEN A FEW weeks since everything had come to light. Nobody really seemed to act so differently around me. Okay, that was a blatant lie. In fact, everyone was acting so differently around me that the change in attitude was enough to give me whiplash; instead of barging past me out of a door, they would make the effort to let me go through first, and even make light conversation.

I couldn't quite understand how being in connection with someone would warrant such niceties around me. Maybe Archer threatened them or something, not that I could imagine Archer being the one to carry through with these threats, like some mafia boss. My mind wandered to the possibility of him actually being the leader of a gang and sitting around in dark rooms with guards everywhere, or whatever else they did-

My attention was once again brought back to the room I was currently in. The one that had seemed to solidify like magic, hidden behind a certain secret entrance along the wall.

We'd journeyed through the school, following a less chaotic path than Miles and I had done on our first adventure together, and ended up where we'd met Noah all those weeks ago.

"I don't think it would be right," Archer was saying, leaning against the plush sofa on one hand. His phone was visible, lighting up every now and then but the messages mustn't have been important, for he just glanced at them before tossing it to the side.

He was talking to Autumn about one thing or another. I almost let my mind drift once again as I followed the intricate golden patterns against the red walls. But, then...

"If she's your girlfriend, Arch," she said, though the seemingly endearing name seemed more trying than that, like she was testing him. "Surely you'd want her there. Shall I invite her? Unless... it's something else?" She went to turn towards me, sat across from her on the chair, now no longer leaning against the desk but upright, alert.

He was quick to interject. "She's busy, that's all."

I cringed at his first slip up, even though only minute. It would have gone completely unnoticed (him answering so quickly and forcefully) had he not been such an at ease person for, I'm assuming, his whole life. No one else would have seen it, either, but he wasn't talking to just anyone. He was talking to his sister— someone who'd lived with him, who'd managed to train herself to pick up these slight things about him. I doubted he voiced his emotions very much, so this was her way of seeing, rather than hearing, what he was thinking.

She ignored him. Turning to me slowly, she leant back on her hands, supporting herself on the small table she'd sat on.

I felt my hands begin to sweat and so wiped them discreetly on my trouser leg. There was something terrifying about the look she bestowed upon me, the way her eyes watched me, unwavering and unblinking, had my heart racing. It struck me then just how similar her and Archer truly were.

"Jolie," she drew out slowly, eyebrow raised. "Are you busy on the 17th of December?"

I looked from her to Archer, who provided little help other than his infamous scowl, and even to Noah perched on his piano seat, no longer fluttering a tune and instead, watching the show with a humorous glint to his eyes. Houman had picked his head up from his book, dark eyes too watching the scene. The owner of the legs drawn across his lap seemed to be the only one not watching, though it was clear she'd long since finished the magazine page she was on. Had she been a dog, her ears would be perked.

"I-"

"So it's settled," she said, jumping up from her seat and plucking Archer's phone from where he'd tossed it. Her fingers swept over the screen, likely setting it in his calendar or something. Within minutes, she'd slipped his phone into his jacket pocket and smirked. "Tickets are paid for, see you then!" And with that, she'd graced out of the door.

It took me a moment to just realise what she'd said and what this meant. I had a little over a week to prepare everything. And then, I'd be jetting off to the Alpes to ski... with the Elites.

The others all made there excuses after a little while, Noah leaving first, shortly followed by the fire girl and the prince. That left me an Archer.

"Look," I began. "I'm really sorry. I didn't know what else to do."

He sighed, tiredly. "It's not your fault. Once Autumn gets an idea in her head, that's it. You wouldn't have been able to deter her."

I nodded, but still felt guilty and absolutely terrified.

I got up from my perch and, imitating the others though with a less regal air, I walked out of the door, leaving Archer to lie back on the sofa with his eyes closed.

I'd thought him to be asleep, so jumped a little when I'd been reaching for the door handle and his voice broke the silence.

"Please tell me you can ski."

I gulped. Why in the hell would I know how to ski? Did he see mounds of snow and mountains in London?

My hand still on the door handle and without turning round, I said, "Of course."

What the fuck was I going to do?