The Determining (6 page)

“I apologize for my tardiness. I was detained.”

Nemo moved around the towering man and into a large open room. At its center, a long rectangular table sat surrounded by five people. All fumed. Eyes followed as Nemo walked to the empty chair at the head of the gathering. He settled in before looking up at the faces watching him.

“You have some nerve to keep us waiting like this,” Drayton bellowed, stomping back to his seat, the seventh in the group.

Nemo bristled with annoyance. “And when you have the nerve to start a revolution, you too can keep the rest of us waiting.”

Drayton scowled but shut his mouth.

“Anyone else have a complaint they’d like to share?” Nemo’s eyes traveled from face to face, making eye contact with each person in turn. He let the silence linger before speaking again.

“For the past twenty years I’ve sat back, watching our country grow sick and feeble, and the infection is growing. I see the people suffering under the thumb of our oppressors. Both the rich and the poor are stagnant, unable to move from the path they are born into. It’s time we do something more, something permanent.”

“I’m not hearing a plan,” Samar spoke up. The slight woman from the Californian Province stared at him with intense, brown eyes. “What we need is more action and less talk.”

“What do you suggest, then?” he asked, scowling at Samar.

“I assumed you called us here because you already had a plan. If that isn’t the case, it would seem I made a pointless journey.” She moved to stand but he held up a hand, stopping her before she came to her feet.

“You know I wouldn’t call you all here unless I had something important to share. Please, sit down.”

Samar glared, but settled back into her seat.

“Am I right in assuming you all know who Charlotte Grey is?” he asked, looking around the room for affirmation.

“You’d have to be off grid not to know who she is,” Samar answered sarcastically.

“What’s this have to do with that spoiled brat?” Drayton demanded.

Nemo leveled Drayton with a steady look. “Everything.”

Cameras flashed, blinding Charlie as she stepped from the limo. She held a hand up, shielding her eyes from the intrusive light.

“Put your hand down,” Margaret hissed at her side. “Let them see you!”

Charlie wished the cut on her cheek hadn’t healed. If it were still jutting across her skin it might have deterred her mother. But the three weeks that had passed since her father’s attack had been more than enough time to heal the injury. And once the army of beauticians and stylists descended on the house, the nearly imperceptible scar had vanished beneath a layer of makeup. She emerged from their ministrations buffed and polished to perfection. They’d pulled her wavy brown hair into an elegant up do and surrounded her light green eyes with smoky shadow. In the mirror, she’d taken in her transformation and noted her flawless cheek with disappointment.

She reluctantly lowered her hand, allowing the cameras a clear shot of her. The photographers and reporters all called her name and shouted questions which she ignored.

That afternoon, while under the scrutiny of three hairdressers, Margaret had coached her about what to expect. “There will be reporters and photographers waiting to see you. You’re expected to give at least two interviews and pose for photos. I’ll direct you to the two reporters I want you to speak with. The rest, you will ignore.

“Your father will give a short speech to the guests before dinner. Then, we’ll hold with tradition and auction off your first dance. After that—”

Charlie had ignored everything else her mother said. Her mind raced with questions about the mysterious Nemo.
Why does he want to attend my coming-out?
Whatever the reason, it didn’t bode well. That email he’d sent all those weeks ago still made her skin crawl. Despite her worries, the security flanking the building did give her a measure of ease. No doubt more guards were positioned inside the building. She would be safe.

Richard slipped his arm around her waist, giving her a loving smile she didn’t return. The expression remained on his face, but his eyes held a dark cruelty. Charlie didn’t care. He couldn’t hit her tonight. She stepped away from his embrace and followed Margaret, speaking to the two reporters her mother indicated and smiling politely to the others.

At the entrance, Margaret and Richard stepped back, allowing the photographers to capture her image. She kept on smiling, but her thoughts were already inside the building, searching for Nemo. She needed to know if he’d arrived yet. Now, while both her parents stood at a distance, would be her one opportunity. She moved to enter the building, pausing by one of two men flanking the door with guest lists in hand.

Leaning in close, she spoke as quietly as possible while still being sure he could hear her. “Has Nemo arrived yet?”

The guard glanced down at his tablet. After a moment of scrolling through the list he looked back at her and nodded.

Nemo was here. Her part in this was done. Now she could only wait and see what happened next. She offered her chip to be scanned before entering the club.

Lanterns hung from the ballroom ceiling, casting a warm glow over the assembled crowd. Their light reflected in the windows that surrounded the room, floor to ceiling, on three sides. Through the glass, Charlie could make out the hundreds of flickering candles on the lake, just as her mother promised. When Charlie appeared, everyone stood, applauding. As Richard escorted her to the head table, she searched the guests, looking for someone out of place. With so many people in attendance, she had little hope of finding the mysterious Nemo.

At the head table, Richard pulled out a chair for Charlie. Margaret moved to Richard’s side, handing him a flute of champagne before turning to face the gathering. Someone handed Richard a microphone.

“As a parent, it’s hard to watch your child grow into an adult. I’ve been there for every scrape and bruise; I stood beside her to pick her up when she fell. Now, she is at the threshold of a new journey, a journey she must make on her own.” He paused, seeming to be overcome with emotion. Charlie fought to keep from laughing at the scripted display. She wondered if her guests could tell Richard’s speech had been prewritten and memorized. “But Margaret and I take solace in the Determining. We may not be able to make the journey with our dear Charlotte, but we stand assured in the path she will now walk.”

Richard faced her, his eyes still swimming with false sentiment. “Charlotte, your mother and I hope you will walk confidently along this path. Be secure in the knowledge that you will never have to say ‘I’d rather’ or ‘I should have.’ Know that everything happens according to a perfect plan.” He pinned her with a fierce stare and turned back to their guests, lifting his glass. “To Charlotte.”

“To Charlotte,” the crowd echoed.

Charlie flushed with anger.
How dare Richard use this moment to chastise me?
She glared at him as he approached her. Leaning down, he kissed the cheek that had been injured in his attack. The gesture infuriated her.

His breath, which already smelled of alcohol, tickled her neck when he whispered in her ear, “If you value your other cheek, you’ll keep smiling and pretend to be happy.” He started pulling away, but Charlie threw her arms around him in a mock embrace.

“I’d gladly give every inch of skin if it meant I’d be rid of you.” With a kiss, she released him. They locked eyes. He barely managed to keep his face from contorting with rage. She raised an eyebrow, challenging him to make good on his threat.

“Watch yourself. You wouldn’t want to end up a martyr,” Richard hissed, still wearing a tight smile.

Margaret stepped between the two, pulling Charlie into a painful hug. “Whatever is going on with you stops right now. Tonight is the most important night of your life. This could make or break your entire future. Stop trying to ruin it and do your best to impress one of the men.”

By the time all this transpired, the applause had died down and been replaced with the strains of a live jazz band. Charlie took her seat, watching the waiters buzz about the room carrying serving trays steaming with food. A plate appeared before her, but she couldn’t do more than pick at the elaborate meal.

Charlie was seated front and center, like all young women at their coming-out parties, to provide the guests a good view of her. Mothers with eligible sons studied her, imagining their grandchildren; fathers saw the business opportunity she presented; the unmarried men saw her body; and the single women saw their competition. It exhausted her to have so many probing eyes trained on her at once.

As the meal drew to an end, Cornelia Prescott strutted over to Charlie’s table. She wore a shimmering red dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. The only word Charlie could think of to describe her was
stunning
.

“Congratulations, Charlotte.” Cornelia smiled; her teeth appeared bleach white when contrasted with her cherry red lipstick. “Your dress looks fabulous.”

“Thank you, Cornelia. It’s good to see you again.”

Charlie thought of the look on Cornelia’s face after she witnessed the exchange at the coffee shop.
What would happen if she told someone what she had seen?
Charlie needed to be careful.

“Likewise. Come visit me later, I’d love to spend some more time catching up. Enjoy the evening.” Cornelia’s hips swayed as she moved away from the table, catching the eyes of more than a few single men. And a number of married men as well.

When Cornelia was out of earshot, Margaret glared at Charlie. “I told you to wear red.”

Charlie ignored the comment, looking up as another guest approached and wished her well. It seemed that Cornelia set the example for the other guests who now advanced in a steady stream. Some came to congratulate her. Most seemed intent on introducing their single sons.

Margaret whispered in her ear, providing commentary on every person who approached the table. She perked up when anyone connected to the Council appeared. As the night wore on, it became apparent that every Council member had attended or at least sent a representative from their family.

“Why is the entire Council here?” she asked Margaret during a lull in the flow of well-wishers.

“They all know your father is the richest member of the Council. They hope to make an alliance with our family.” Margaret beamed at the idea. “Keep an eye on Mason Novack from New York. Together, our families could rule the Council.”

Charlie considered mentioning Drew, but bit her tongue. Her gaze flicked to his table. He watched her, smiling when their eyes met. Pride swelled in her chest at the sight of him. It impressed her how comfortable he appeared, the poor man in a sea of wealth. Years at Hartland Prep had taught him how to move in the wealthy circles without standing out. The skill would serve him well, especially as he moved forward with his education. The fact that he looked handsome in a suit wouldn’t hurt, either.

“Stop looking at that scholarship boy and concentrate,” her mother snapped.

Charlie needed someone sane to rescue her from Margaret. She spotted Ruth talking with an older couple. She looked beautiful with her curly mass of red hair swept back into a loose bun. Charlie caught her eye, beckoning her over with a pleading glance.

Ruth excused herself. She glided to the table, her black dress billowing behind her as she moved. “Lovely party, Mrs. Grey. You’ve done a wonderful job.” She reached out, squeezing Margaret’s hand. “My own coming-out pales in comparison.”

Ruth’s words elicited a genuine smile. “Well thank you, Ruth. I’ve done the best I can. Now I just need to find her a husband.” Margaret spoke as if Charlie weren’t present.

“With all the handsome men here, that shouldn’t be a problem.” Ruth winked at Charlie, who just glared.

“Harder than you might think.”

“I’m sure I can work on that for you, Mrs. Grey.”

“I can hear you both,” Charlie snapped, but her mother and Ruth ignored her.

“Thank you, Ruth,” Margaret said sincerely. If it hadn’t been for the mischievous glint in Ruth’s eyes Charlie would have screamed in frustration.

“Perhaps I could try and talk some sense into her now.”

Charlie smiled at the prospect of a moment of freedom.

“I would let you take her, but here comes Mason Novack.” Margaret turned to Charlie. “Sit up tall and roll your shoulders back. It makes your breasts look perkier.” Charlie immediately slouched forward, hunching her shoulders as Mason sauntered toward them.

She’d met Mason years before at another Council function, one of the few that had allowed the Undetermined to attend. Even then, he had a dislikable arrogance about him. Seeing him after seven years, she felt no different.

“Find me later, Charlie,” Ruth said, disappearing as Mason reached the table.

He flashed Margaret a charming smile before letting his hazel eyes rest on Charlie. The way his gaze traveled up and down her body made her feel vulnerable, exposed.

“Good evening. It’s a pleasure to see you both again.” He nodded toward Margaret. “Congratulations, Miss Grey.”

Margaret kicked Charlie under the table. “Thank you for coming, Mr. Novack.” Charlie spoke through gritted teeth.

“If I may say, the Determining has agreed with you. You look more radiant than ever.”

Charlie choked on the wine she’d been drinking, barely keeping it in her mouth. When she stopped coughing, she spoke. “Perhaps that has something to do with the fact that I was thirteen when we first met.” Margaret went to kick her again but Charlie moved her leg in time to avoid the reprimand.

Mason didn’t seem thrown by her snide comment. “Perhaps, but no one can doubt your radiance tonight.”

“And no one can doubt your sincerity.” She laced her words with heavy sarcasm.

He chuckled at the dig, but his eyes darkened, revealing his irritation. “Quite a daughter you have, Mrs. Grey.”

“Yes. Now that her Determining is settled, she is in a position to make herself useful to both her father and her future husband.” Margaret’s tone carried a less than subtle implication. “She is quite a catch.”