Running for Home
L.R.T.
The long dining table that took up most of the space in the dining room stood between them as they ate.
He ate as if his life depended on it, taking second and third helpings. She picked at her food, knowing that it wasn't proper etiquette and yet still unable to put anything in her mouth. He was on his fourth glass of wine - a meager number for him, really. She drank ice water and glared at him from across the table, the sound of his slurping down the expensive Cabernet making her lose her appetite even more. He caught a glimpse of her dirty look and smirked, raising his half-empty glass to her. She huffed and removed her napkin from her lap, placing it next to her unfinished plate and rising from her seat.
He swirled what was left of his wine in the glass, watching it splash against the sides and trickle down again. "Leaving so soon, dear sister?"
Her blue eyes weren't their usual shade but a darker tone, making them seem black. "It isn't proper to dawdle, dear brother," she replied, her southern drawl cold and unamused.
"Isn't it rude to leave in the middle of dinner when the other party isn't finished yet?" he countered in a breezy tone.
Dark eyes narrowed and she slowly sat back down, arms crossed. A scowl briefly appeared on her lips before she caught herself, reminded that proper young women didn't make such faces. There were several things she could think of doing in regards to her new step-brother and none of them were very proper, either.
He leaned forward on the table, resting his elbow on top of it and placing his head on his hand. It gave him such a thrill to aggravate her, his smirk broadening when her eyes darted to his elbow. He often wondered what kind of torturous youth she'd had growing up, learning all these silly things that no one in their right mind would really care about.
She was in a foul mood already, having lost track of her fiancé's whereabouts earlier in the day. She hated knowing that he was so close and yet just out of her grasp, as always. Her step-brother teased her mercilessly over not only the arranged marriage but how desperate her groom was to get away from her at all costs.
In her opinion, her sweet James had been corrupted by the cruel outside world; more specifically, he had been corrupted by that magenta-haired harlot. Not only was she a witch of a girl but James had abandoned her on more than one occasion in favor of her company and not his own fiancée's.
Knowing full-well how adversely her non-relationship affected her, he couldn't help but feel a tiny twinge of pity every now and then - usually when he was bored. Negative feelings were strictly forbidden from seeing the light of day in their house, which was why he drank and she utterly lost her mind and made what she liked to call a "love dungeon" in the basement.
His mother and her father had married after a long courtship almost two years ago to the date. They had gone off on a third honeymoon (though he suspected it was something more like a ninth) and left their children to their own devices, an idea that wasn't the wisest on their parts.
She had always hated the idea of having to share the spotlight with a sibling - and this one didn't even have the good fortune to share her DNA. They had never gotten along, even long before their parents began seeing each other. He wasn't proper enough, in her opinion, and often made a fool of himself at all the important social functions in their circle.
The only thing they seemed to agree on was how lovely and important being rich was. He may have been more down-to-earth than most of the men she knew, but he was still a money-hungry Seviper, ready and willing to do whatever it took to add more zeros to his net worth.
There was even less love lost when her father wrote up a new will to include her step-mother and brother, effectively cutting her inheritance in half. It was assumed that she would marry a well-off member of society, making her need for her own fortune significantly less than his. He had to lure in a woman somehow and she suspected it wasn't going to be his winning personality that would get him a wife.
Thanking their butler after he poured him his fifth glass, he rested back against the throne-sized chair and took a sip. She couldn't remember ever hating someone as much as she did him - maybe that horrible girl Jessie.
It was as if a light bulb had gone on in her head. That was how she would get James all to herself. She smirked at him from across the table and he raised an eyebrow, wine glass still pressed against lips.
"I believe I have an idea that may interest you," she said, uncrossing her arms and resting them in her lap.
He raised his other eyebrow as well, setting down his glass. "Is that so?"
"It's somethin' mutually beneficial for us."
"I'm listening."
Replacing her smirk with a sweet smile, she said, "As you know, there's that wretched girl my dahlin' James is always with."
He nodded, inwardly rolling his eyes and already starting to check out of the conversation. He was truly tired of hearing about James. He'd been tired of it since his first week in his new home. In actuality, he thought the guy was brilliant for running away when he did and somehow managing to stay away, for the most part. Not many things eluded Jessibelle but he seemed to be the exception - and that exception was why she needed to use deceit and trickery to get her way.
"I believe she might just be your type, Jamie."
He really rolled his eyes now. "And why's that?"
"Does it matter? I'm willin' to make you a very fair trade."
"What's the trade?"
"You sweep that little street urchin off her feet, leaving James open for mahself, of course."
"And I would do this for you...because...?"
"Because, dahlin, if you succeed...I'll give you my half of the inheritance. You'd get everythin'."
"What? I'm not an imbecile, Jessibelle. I know how angry you were when your father re-wrote his will -"
"If you're successful in your mission, I'll be marryin' James in no time at all! I can live off of his inheritance."
He couldn't help but laugh, shaking his head and taking another sip of wine. "Just because you get the girl out of the picture doesn't mean that he'll give up and marry you."
"Gettin' rid of her is one thing," she began, rising from her seat and starting the journey across the room to her step-brother, "seein' her happily with another man, payin' him no mind at all, well...that's quite another."
He fancied himself a bit of a playboy, so the idea of seducing a random girl sat perfectly well with him; it was having to stay with her long enough for his wicked little step-sister to make her plan a success. He thought that he and James were very much alike in that way: neither wanted to be tied down to a life that they didn't want. It was simply James's grand misfortune that he ended up engaged by the age of seven.
Eying her as she came to a stop next to him, he slowly ran his eyes up her body to meet her gaze. Immediately he regretted it, the soulless black threatening to penetrate him. His eyes quickly moved back to his glass of wine, swirling the liquid once again inside the glass. "Find them and we'll have something to talk about. Right now this seems more like a fairy tale than an actual idea."
"Jamie," she purred, placing her hand on his shoulder, "I'm always lookin' for my dearest James. You know that."
Rolling his eyes again as he downed the rest of his drink, he set the glass back on the table with a "clink." "I'll believe it when I see it. Isn't that fair, Jessibelle?"
Removing her hand and crossing her arms again, she nodded slightly before turning up her nose at him. "I suppose so; but when I do find him, I expect you to be at the ready to woo that -"
Standing up himself now, he smiled as he pushed the chair back against the table, leaning against it after. "Oh, my darling sister. Don't you know?" He turned on his heel and started for the grand staircase. "I'm always ready for that."