Chapter 1

• Charlotte
• Same fake people. Same stupid crowd. Same uninteresting men that I’ve known all my life.
• “Isn’t it?” a voice says.
• Huh?
• I drag my eyes back to the man standing in front of me. For the life of me, I can’t remember his name, although I’m quite sure I should know it. He always tries his very best to impress me every time I run into him at one of these family events.
• Which is often.
• “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite hear you. What did you say?”
• “I said it’s great to get to know you better.” He smiles and tries to turn on his charm.
• I smile awkwardly. “Yes. Yes, it is.” My eyes roam up and down him. He’s nice enough, I suppose. Tall, dark, handsome and has all the factors that should excite me… but don’t.
• I’m so utterly bored, as if I’m a stranger standing on the outskirts looking in at all the beautiful people around me. And I know I shouldn’t feel that way, because according to society, I’m one of those beautiful people.
• “And then I went to Harvard to study Law and graduated with honours, of course,” the dull voice drones on.
• I smile on cue and gaze around the room, doing anything to escape this boring conversation. I exhale heavily as my mind wanders. The wedding reception is beautiful—straight out of a storybook. It’s in an exotic location, there are fairy lights everywhere, lots of stunning fashion to admire, and anyone who is anyone is here.
• Why doesn’t this guy interest me? Nobody seems to anymore, and I’ve no idea what’s wrong with me.
• I widen my eyes at my friend who is standing at the other side of the hall, silently calling for help. Thankfully, she takes the hint and walks over immediately.
• “Charlotte.” She smiles as she kisses my cheeks. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” She turns her smile over to the poor man in front of me. “Can I steal her for a moment, please?”
• His face falls and he purses his lips, nodding begrudgingly. “Of course.”
• I give him a small wave and link my arm through my friend’s. We walk towards the hall.
• “Thank God for that,” I mutter under my breath.
• “One of these days I’m not going to save you. He was all kinds of cute.” She tuts as she grabs two glasses of champagne from a passing tray. I smile and take my glass from her, and then we stand just out of view of the man we escaped.
• Lara is one of my closest friends. Our fathers have been best friends since childhood, so we kind of inherited each other by default. She’s like a sister to me. Our families mix in the same social circles and we’re at a lot of functions together. I don’t get to see her as much as I would like to as she lives in Cambridge now.
• Then we have Elizabeth, our other friend. Elizabeth is the complete opposite of us. We met her at school where she attended through a scholarship. Her parents don’t have money but boy, does Elizabeth know how to have fun without it. She’s wild, carefree and has grown up without the social restraints that Lara and I have. She can date whoever she wants, nobody is after her money and nobody judges her. To be honest, I’m not sure that anybody judges Lara or me either, but our fathers are both very wealthy men, and with that privilege comes the responsibility of upholding the family’s name and reputation. Both Lara and I would give our right arm to live the life Elizabeth has. Elizabeth—or Beth, as we call her—lives in London and is hopelessly in love with the idea of being in love. Although she can’t seem to find the right man, she’s having a whale of a time looking.
• Me, however… Well, I’ve never really been interested in love. After my mother died unexpectedly in a car accident when I was eighteen, grief took over. My father and two brothers suffocated me in the name of protection. I went to school, hung with my girls, and regrouped for a few years. Somehow, time slipped away so quickly, and now here I am at the ripe old age of twenty-four and I’ve had hardly any experience with men at all.
• “Oh, he’s lovely,” Lara whispers from behind her wineglass.
• I look over and see a tall man with dark hair standing in the corner. “Aren’t you seeing someone?” I ask Lara.
• “He’s lovely for you, I mean. Somebody around here has to look at the men on your behalf.”
• I roll my eyes.
• “Surely someone here interests you?”
• I look around the room that is alive with chatter, then over to the dancefloor that is full. “Not really.” I sigh.
• Lara falls into a conversation with a woman next to us, effectively dismissing me, and I look around the decadent ballroom. I look up to the ceiling and the beautiful crystal chandeliers.
• I love chandeliers. In fact, I love ceilings in general. If a room has a beautiful ceiling, I’m done for. As Lara continues to talk to the lady beside her, I glance through the crowd of people, and then I freeze instantly. On the top level is a man. He’s talking to two men and a heavily pregnant woman. He’s wearing a perfectly fitting navy suit and a white shirt.
• I watch him for a moment as he laughs freely, and I smile to myself. He looks like fun. Devilishly handsome and clearly older than me, he has fair hair that is slightly longer on the top. His jaw is square, and his cheeks are creased with dimples.
• I wonder who he is.
• I continue to look around the room, but my eyes keep coming back to him. He’s telling a story and being all animated, using his hands to enhance his tale, and the three people he is with are all laughing loudly. A man walks past him, slaps him on the back and says something, and then they all laugh again. I sip my champagne, lost in thought.
• Hmm.