I didn’t understand why she always did that; why she acted like her accomplishments were nothing more than her doing what was expected rather than an achievement to be celebrated. She didn’t give herself nearly enough credit.
“You should look into the nonprofit management idea. Seriously. With your volunteer experience and a law degree, there’s a lot you could do. Not to mention, if you stay in D.C., there’s no shortage of organizations you could work for.”
She gave a little half-shrug. “I’ll think about it.” She gestured toward a group of volunteers standing off to the side. “I should check in. See how things are going with the setup. See you later?”
I nodded.
I watched her walk away, unable to keep my gaze off of her. There was something about Blair that filled me with awe and made me want to be better. It was complicated before when it had just been about sex. But now, now that I knew her, liked her, admired her, it was so much more.
I was falling in love with her.
Jason sauntered over, his smile knowing. “You locked it down.”
I fought off the grin.
Yeah, I fucking had.
Chapter Eighteen
Tonight is the Reynolds family’s infamous Christmas party. Deals will be made, scandals caused, and the corruption will flow as freely as the champagne. We’ll be on hand to share all of the juicy tidbits with you . . .
—Capital Confessions blog
Blair
My hand cramped as I typed the final sentence, my gaze darting to the time on my laptop. My pulse raced, my palms sweating, panic clawing at my throat. I hit the period key when all of a sudden—
“Time’s up. Shut down your exam software and make sure you receive a message saying that your test has uploaded. If you have any problems, one of the proctors can assist you.”
The urge to vomit hit me, a tremor sliding through my body. For better or worse, I was done. I submitted my test through the special exam software we were all required to use for our finals, the adrenaline crash hitting me, leaving exhaustion in its wake.
Three hours. Three hours of nearly nonstop typing. Four finals, for a total of twelve hours of exams. My first semester of law school now officially over.
I wanted to sleep for a year. I wanted to get trashed, wanted to cry, wanted to cheer.
I listened while the woman at the front of the room gave us the rest of the exam instructions, and then we were released, seventy-five students spilling out into the hallway in a mass exodus tinged with excitement and despair, depending on how people thought they’d done.
Torts had been our final exam. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Probably the same way I’d felt about all my exams. Despite my hours and hours studying, and the fact that I looked like I’d just been to hell and back, twice, without a shower, it could go either way. Our exams were graded on a curve, so to some degree, my performance also largely depended on how I did relative to my classmates.
Caitlin called out my name and I waited for her to catch up with me.
“We have to go celebrate.”
I groaned. “I need to sleep. I only slept like four hours last night because I was up late cramming. And I have this stupid holiday party my parents are hosting tonight.”
I’d finally just given in to my mother’s calls and pleading. Some of my friends would be at the party, so at least it wouldn’t be totally horrible. And she’d promised that the Wyatts wouldn’t be there.
“Do you have to go the whole time?”
“Maybe not.” They’d be pissed, but honestly, I needed to let loose a bit. And my parents’ Christmas party was definitely not the place to let loose. “I’ll come. I can probably get away with showing up for an hour or two, and then I’ll meet up with you guys. I’ll text you when I’m out.”
She grinned. “Awesome. See you tonight.”
I walked through the lobby, heading toward the parking lot, feeling like I tasted freedom for the first time in forever. We only had a month off for winter break, but right now I needed the reprieve. Badly.
When I hit the double doors to exit the building, I spotted Gray standing at the entrance, talking to another one of the professors. He had an end-of-semester faculty party he had to attend tonight, but we’d made plans to go to dinner tomorrow.
His gaze met mine and he flashed me a quick smile. I ducked my chin to hide my reaction, unable to keep my lips from grinning.
A few minutes later, when I reached my car, my phone went off. I pulled it out of my purse and stared at the text, a smile spreading all over my face.
Congrats xxx.
* * *
I showed up at my parents’ half an hour after the party started. I only planned on staying an hour or so, and then I’d head out to meet up with Caitlin and some other people from our section.
I was feeling marginally more human after taking a five-hour nap and shower. I’d decided on a black cocktail dress that was probably a little casual for my parents, but wouldn’t look bizarre at a bar. I was stretching black-tie a bit, but whatever.
I spotted my father first, surrounded by his inner circle, a broad smile on his face and a glass of champagne in hand. He was in his element, holding court now that his seat was safe once more. However stressed my mother might be about the Capital Confessions mentions, he seemed completely unfazed.
“Blair.” He gave me a kiss on the cheek and a charming smile.
Between the two of them, my father was the easier one for me to handle. He was definitely a dick, but for the most part he didn’t care what I did. Big-picture stuff was important to him—who I married, where I went to school—but he wasn’t going to give me a hard time about my outfit or how much I’d had to drink, or whether my haircut made my face look round. My mother gave me a hard time about everything.
I smiled at his friends, some of the highest-ranking members of the Senate, men I’d known practically my whole life. I fielded questions about law school for a few minutes, wincing at my father’s suggestion that perhaps I’d transfer schools my second year. The way things were going, I highly doubted that was going to be an option, but I kept my mouth shut.
Finally, someone more important than me walked by, and my father left me for some glad-handing with a potential donor. One campaign down and he was already focused on the next. As much as I knew he was an asshole, it wasn’t lost on me that my father was really good at what he did. Serving people, not so much. But politicking? He had that down to an art and D.C. was his playground.
I didn’t know how Kate and I had ended up the way we did. When we were younger, my mother had definitely spent more time with me. Kate had been too much of a tomboy, had had little patience for debutante balls, etiquette classes, and ballet. She’d been the one my father had connected with the most, and as much as she’d hate to admit it, there was something similar about them.
They each had their own brand of ruthlessness.
I did a sweep of the room, spotting my mother chatting with some of her friends, diamonds sparkling, clearly in her element. I didn’t know if my parents loved each other, if they’d ever loved each other, but they had definitely found a way to make their marriage suit their individual needs. My mother had the money and position she craved; my father had the glossy photo op that helped keep him in power.
Even as I didn’t understand it, I recognized that it worked for them.
And then I saw him, and all thoughts of my parents fled.
My mother had told me the Wyatts couldn’t come to the party, that they were vacationing in St. Barts. That hadn’t been as good as them not being invited entirely, but I’d figured it was enough to avoid an awkward run-in between us.
Apparently, I’d been mistaken.
Thom stood in front of me, wearing a tuxedo like he’d been born to it. Hell, considering the similarities between our upbringings, he basically had. Something about the sight of him took me back—to my coming out ball, prom, the morning of our wedding.