Dirty Little Lies (Dirty Little #2) Read Free Page B

FOUR

    “This turnout is pathetic,” Mitzi Vandergraff says, as she surveys said pathetic crowd. She’s the only person I know who manages to look simultaneously elegant and, well…like a complete bitch. Her arms are crossed over the (probably) hand-beaded bodice of her couture gown, as she rolls her eyes. “I was right to want you off the board, Marisa. They wanted to keep you to spare your feelings.” She sweeps her perfectly manicured hand toward the other architectural board members standing to our right, who look just as worried about the turnout as I feel. “But I told them it was a terrible idea.”  
    “Luckily you never worry about sparing anyone’s feelings,” I reply dryly. The sentiment isn’t as cutting as it could be considering she’s absolutely right.  
    I told Corinne that I was going to come in here and give ‘em hell, but all the fight is draining from me. The me-against-the-world attitude that’s been keeping me going lately has all but fizzled out. For the first time since my parents’ scandal broke, I feel defeated.  
    Not wanting to stand in Mitzi’s judgmental presence for a second longer than I have to, I excuse myself to mingle. I walk through the crowd, looking for a friendly face, for an opening to a conversation. Anything.  
    I’m hit hard by this low attendance. Usually at events like this, the din of the crowd drowns out the ambient music, but the six-piece orchestra is loud and clear tonight.  
    This fundraiser is a dud, as much as it pains me to admit it. What hurts even more is that it’s all my fault.
    Why didn’t I just step down? Being a Blake is social poison right now, and if it wasn’t for my pride…
    “Marisa?” asks a familiar voice, as the hand belonging to the owner of that voice rests on my forearm.  
    I turn and see Caleb Simmons. He’s one of Ben’s best friends, and someone that I considered to be a good friend of mine, too, once upon a time. We only ever talk to each other once in a while. Not very often at all since Ben and I broke up.  
    That’s one of the things that makes breakups even worse, I think. The divvying up of possessions and friendships. When Ben and I were together, Caleb and I were pretty close. After the breakup, we’re really nothing more than cordial acquaintances.  
    I knew I could count on him to show up tonight, despite the scandal attached to my rapidly devaluing last name. He’s just that kind of guy.
    “Hi!” If I’m a little over-enthusiastic, can you blame me? His is the first friendly face I’ve seen all night.  
    Caleb gives me a warm smile, one that I remember him wearing so often when we first met. He opens his arms to me and I go in for a hug.
    “How are you ?” I ask, my voice muffled against his shoulder.  
    “I’m doing well,” he replies. I can tell that his answer is sincere, and he’s not just putting me on, like some people who run in our circle have a tendency to do. Hesitantly he asks, “And you?”  
    I offer him a half-hearted smile and a shrug. “Been better, but you probably know that. Tonight certainly isn’t helping.” I gesture to the room around me, still looking about as pathetic as Mitzi said it was, all things considered.  
    “You know what? Fuck ‘em.” Caleb tips back a sip of champagne, and I can’t help but laugh. It’s a shame that everything that happened between Ben and me strained things between me and Caleb, because I’ve missed him. He always did know how to make me look on the bright side of things, even where his best friend’s shitty behavior was concerned.  
    “Hey,” I say, leaning in close so that no one will overhear me. “My parents didn’t…you know?” I can’t bring myself to outright ask him if my parents stole from him, although I have to know.  
    “No.” His brows furrow together as he considers his words. “Your father contacted my secretary a few times, but—no offense—I never took any of his meetings.”  
    A wave of relief