Her uneven smile gave me chills. “We’ve known about Katharine’s ill treatment of her pledges for quite a while, and now an opportunity has arisen to rid ourselves of the Kappa Delta Dictator without tarnishing our reputation.” She rolled her eyes to the ceiling, shaking her head. “Her asinine ideas for fundraisers make me want to grab my handgun from my glove box.” Her eyes dropped to meet mine. “Know what I mean?”
Nodding, I scanned the room for something sharp. Lily Tanaka was nuts.
“The council would like your help in putting Katharine in her place, so we’re giving you her emergency exit.”
“Emergency exit?”
She nodded, handing me the tape recorder. “Every leader has an emergency exit. Information that would shame and potentially get them kicked out of their position as chapter president. It just so happens Katharine is terrible at math.”
“Math?” I scoffed. “So Katharine’s going to leave me alone because she can’t work through the Pythagorean theorem?”
Lily leaned over and pushed my thumb over the play button:
“Katharine, we can’t keep doing this,” a husky male voice shot through the speaker. “Maybe I can find a tutor for you and then your grades would… Oh God. Oh God… Holy shit.”
“You were saying, Professor Berger?” Katharine’s seductive voice followed his moans. “I think I have the best tutor in the world between my legs right now… You gonna make me cry and beg for an A…? (Random series of disgusting sounds) Because I’ll do it.
I hit the stop button and looked down at my hand.
“Yes,” Lily whispered. “Katharine’s been sleeping with her calculus professor all semester.”
“How did yo—”
“We have our ways, Sydney. We have spies everywhere.” She opened her hands in a dramatic sweeping circle, then grabbed the recorder. “We are willing to give this to you with the understanding it’s to be used as blackmail. Everyone wins in this situation. Katharine’s under your thumb… and you’re under ours.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Under your thumb? Why don’t you just blackmail her directly?”
“Her daddy pays for our national Panhellenic conventions, and I like my yearly trips to Hawaii. If this gets out, she’s not only out of Kappa Delta; she’s out of the Greek system. We just want to give her a scare. But it doesn’t mean we want to do it nicely. Tuesday night, you’ll call this number at eight o’clock.” Lily handed me a slip of paper. “That’s our quarterly Panhellenic meeting, and we want to watch her squirm.”
Teasing me, Lily waved the recorder in front of my face. “Eight o’clock sharp, Sydney. All we’ll ask for is a favor once in a while. Sunday Lane has a following that could be useful to the council.”
Well, shit.
Chapter Forty-Four
Bitch is not the word I would use to describe Margot Porter.
Why?
Because bitch would be a compliment.
Margot Porter was a spoiled lapdog. Her raven-black eyes were cold and cruel. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d just picked a man’s carcass clean before stepping into Northern’s banquet hall. Her ruby hair was pulled so tightly in a bun her olive skin stretched against her skull. It looked as if she’d run head on into a strip of saran wrap. And that permanent snarl on her thin lips, well, it would rival a rabid bulldog’s.
Those disturbing superficial observations aside, her insides were what terrified me.
Inside, I would bet my life, lay a charred and hollow shell where somewhere deep down an innocent soul encased in brick was scratching with broken, bloodied nails to break free.
“Where is your sister?” she snapped at Jack, adjusting her expensive navy blazer. Her eyes fell on my mother’s cruelty-free hemp purse, and she smirked with a half eye roll.
“Doesn’t surprise me she’s late. Sydney can barely tell time when she’s listening to that goddamn music of hers. Communications major. What a waste of money. She’s repaying me every cent for this education, and I’ll be collecting interest from the grave, seeing as her future’s so bright. Radio talent? She’s such a fool. Always has been.” Leaning over to Jack, she adjusted his tie. “Unlike you. You’ll go far. I just know it.”
Northern’s banquet hall was swarming with mothers and football players. Coach was making his rounds in his best suit, trying to pretend he didn’t beat our asses on the field six days a week.
The seating was assigned, and Mom and I were (un)fortunate enough to be placed with Jack’s family, Chance, and Chance’s twenty-eight-year-old stepmom Maxi.
Maxi was Chance’s dad’s latest wife. Number four, I think. I don’t know. What I did know was Maxi had a huge rack and a pair of lips the size of Texas, which I think was where Chance’s dad found her—doing flips on the Dallas cheerleading squad.
“Hi there, I’m Maxi.” Maxi extended a manicured hand to Mom.
Mom shook her hand and stared at her ample breasts. “Della Peters.” Being the polite librarian she is, Mom gave her a genuine smile and extended her hand to Margot. “Hi, Mrs. Porter, it’s great to meet you. You must be so proud of Jack there, and I just adore your daughter Sydney.”
“Ms. Porter,” Margot corrected. Ignoring Mom’s hand, she turned back to Jack. “If your sister isn’t here within the next ten seconds, I’m going to revisit those grand theft charges. I can’t believe she’d even want to show her face here to support you. What’s she ever done for you, or me, besides make our lives miserable?”
Jack looked down at his hands and wiped his palms over his slacks. “Well, actually, she’s alw—”
“Shh, Jack,” Margot cut in, giving my Mom another disapproving glance. “We don’t need to rehash family business in front of strangers.” Her eyes jumped to the banquet hall entrance just as Sydney walked inside.
Pulling my napkin down in my lap, I twisted it over and over in my hands, pretending it was Margot’s neck. I couldn’t imagine living twenty years under that woman’s roof. It’s no wonder Jack acted like a pussy and Sydney… Well, Sydney… was beautiful.
Sydney’s hair was straightened and lying across her shoulders. She was wearing a wool pea coat and a tight black pencil skirt with red heels reminiscent of a sexy librarian. Which is gross, considering my mother’s a librarian, but I’d overlook that gut-wrenching detail for now.
If she meant to torture me, Sinister’s plan was working.
Spotting our table, she gave Jack a smile, but it collapsed to a scowl when she noticed the only empty spot was next to me. Strutting over with confidence, but a bit wobbly in those heels, she stopped next to Jack. When she lifted an eyebrow, Jack jumped up, taking the seat next to me.
Dammit.
“Morning, Mrs. Peters,” Sydney said, settling into her seat. “I just love those earrings. Amethyst, right?”
Mom touched her ear and smiled. “Yes, dear.”
“Sydney, you are ten minutes late.” Margot gave her a nasty glare. “You have zero respect, young lady. We’re going to have a lon—”
“Hi there.” Sydney extended an arm across the table to Maxi and smirked at Chance. “Chance, did you finally win one of those Playboy dream dates?”
Chance rolled his eyes but snickered under his breath.
“I saw the short story competition on the back of one your bathroom magazines. Fifteen hundred words on creative uses for French baguettes and Nutella, you poet you.”
Margot’s jaw couldn’t be lower than if it unhinged and sank to the core of the earth.
Maxi blushed and leaned back in her seat, jiggling every part of her. “Oh my gosh! I was a centerfold in December 2010. Did you see that?” she asked, completely serious.
Sydney shook her head, still holding a fake smile. “No, must have missed that one.” Her eyes flashed to mine for a half second as she pulled off her coat, revealing a sheer polka-dot blouse with a tight black tank underneath. Who is this woman? And goddammit, put your coat back on!