I plaster a bored expression over my face and slice my gaze back to Carver, letting her know that she’s not worth my attention and watch as Carver starts talking to the girls. He’s too far away to make out his conversation, but I wouldn’t want to anyway. This is private between him and his little sisters.
I try to focus on what I’m doing, even more certain that tonight is going to go down in the record books. After all, with both Ember and Ida Carver here now, I can guarantee that either one of them is going to pull some ridiculous little attention-seeking stunt. Hell, Ember is in the middle of hers right now.
I slink back into the crowd and when the tray is emptied of fresh drinks and replaced with used glasses, I hurry back into the kitchen.
Tonight is supposed to be about Cruz and Grayson, yet I’ve been walking around this party for over an hour and I haven’t even had a single thought about them. My hands slam down on the kitchen counter and all the busy wait staff pause to glance my way before going about their business.
“Are you alright, dear?” a soft, familiar voice asks from beside me.
I glance over at Cruz’s mom and let out a sigh. “Yeah, I’ll be fine,” I tell her. “I just …”
“Wasn’t expecting to see Ida Carver so soon?” she suggests, grabbing a glass of champagne and throwing the whole thing back in one go. “Me too.”
My brows fly up and she shakes her head. “That’s a story for another time,” she tells me. “Now why don’t you give this tray up and go and enjoy the party?”
I shake my head. “I … not yet. I just need ten minutes to hide out and then I’ll be good. I mean, unless I’m in your way. I could help out here if you need. I’m good at scrubbing dishes, or maybe there’s something you need out back?”
Her lips press into a hard line, clearly able to see that I’m rambling and desperate for a short escape. When she lets out a sigh and takes pity on me, my world finally feels right again. “We’re running low on champagne,” she tells me, despite the countless bottles on the counter. “You could make a trip down to the cellar and grab a few more.”
“Oh, thank God,” I rush out, relief pouring through my veins.
She laughs. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so happy to be given a chore. My boys would have whined and complained the whole time.”
“Well,” I tease, stepping away from her and looking back over my shoulder. “Your boys certainly are very … special.”
“Indeed they are,” she laughs, grabbing another flute of champagne and throwing it back.
I leave her be with her champagne and start winding my way through Cruz’s massive house, searching out the cellar and trying to make sense of this ridiculous layout. Whoever built this house has issues.
I come by a door and hear a soft murmured conversation, far away from the party. I go to knock against the door. Obviously whoever is in here isn’t part of the party and would know their way around the house, but just before my knuckles hit the door, I recognize Mr. Danforth’s soft tone and something has me pausing.
My fingers gently push against the door and I peer in to find Cruz’s father in a deep, hushed conversation with Harlen Beckett. My brows furrow as I try to make out their muffled conversation. Though one thing is for sure, it makes my skin crawl with unease.
What the hell could they be talking about in there?
My mind whirls with endless possibilities, but not wanting to believe a single one of them, I step back from the door and call out. “Hello, is anyone down here?”
There’s a shuffle from inside the room and I take a few steps back from the door and put on an act as though I’m searching for something. The door is pulled wide and Cruz’s father stands before me, showing off the wide expanse of his office with Harlen nowhere to be seen. “Elodie,” he says in a gruff tone. “Is there something I can help you with? What are you doing down here?”
“Mr. Danforth,” I say in a pleasant tone, making it sound as though I’m thrilled to see him. “Your wife sent me down to get more champagne from the cellar, but I seem to be a little lost. Could you point me in the right direction?”
His eyes narrow for a moment before waving his hand to the right. “You were close,” he tells me. “Three more doors down and you would have had it. There is a light just inside the door and a steep staircase. Watch your step as you go down.”