—
"What we're entitled to is a trust fund, maybe a house in the Hamptons, a prescription-drug problem, but happiness does not seem to be on the menu."
-Chuck Bass, Gossip Girl
The Bellerose
Windsor-Hayes Penthouse
September 27, 2013
8:30 p.m
Ding. Penthouse.
The mirrored elevator slowed to a stop and the gold-leafed doors slid open, exposing a glossy round dark-oak table in the center of a white marble-tiled foyer. Atop the table was an elaborate vase filled an assortment of red and white roses. In front of the table were matching glossy oak double doors with the initials WH embossed in gold on the front reflecting the dim lighting of the gold Swarovski chandelier hanging from the crown-molded ceiling.
Massie Block sighed and stepped out of the elevator, her Louboutins echoing off the marble. She placed her purse and the gift bag on the table and breathed in heavily to steady her nerves. She had already obsessed over her appearance in the elevator, but as the doors closed, she turned on her heels and ran her Essie Sunday Funday manicured hands over her dress to smooth out any wrinkles. She made eye contact with herself before running her amber eyes over her outfit one more time. Her deep purple Alexander McQueen flare dress hugged her recently sprouted curves and the black pumps on her feet made her calves look great. Her hair tumbled down to her breasts in loose curves and her make-up, gold-flecked eye-shadow with a Tickle Me Pink lip, gave her the air of being older without the weird "trying too hard" vibe. She had to admit she looked great, damn near perfect even.
So why am I so nervous?
Sighing again, she shook her left hand so the charms on her bracelet tinkled together and turned towards the door. Grabbing her black clutch and the gift bag, she counted to three and strutted towards the double doors, pressing the bell.
Ten seconds passed before the double doors swung open and standing in the archway was the most beautiful girl Massie had ever seen. Her heart-shaped face was expertly laid in minimal make-up complete with Mac's Ruby Woo accentuating her plump, pillowy lips. Her dance-toned frame was covered in a velvet red Black Halo hi-low dress complete with black Jimmy Choo pumps. Her waist length, chocolate-copper, curly hair, normally let down and wild, was straightened and pulled up into a tight bun, revealing her high cheekbones and ever-changing eyes. And her skin? Her bronze-golden-tan skin glowed in the dim-lighting of the elevator foyer bank. It was a wonder she wasn't surrounded by some heavenly mist to exaggerate the fact she looked like she had just fallen from Heaven. Massie groaned inwardly.
So much for looking perfect.
"Nicholle!" Massie yelled throwing her arms up in the air and smiling a broad, toothy smile. God, she hoped she didn't have any lipstick on her teeth. That's why Massie was so nervous. Because she had officially become best friends with the most beautiful girl in the tri-state area and the last thing she wanted was to look unkempt next to New York City's It-girl.
"Massie!" Nicholle Windsor-Hayes hollered back, throwing her right hand up in the air and reaching for a hug with the other champagne flute filled hand. "You look so amazing! A total ten!"
And with that, Massie's insecurities vanished.
They embraced for a moment, rocking back and forth on their heels, before Nicholle broke away, tilting her head towards the gift bag.
"Whadya get me?" Nicholle flashed her heart-stopping smile before taking a sip from her flute.
"Oh," Massie reached in and pulled out a bottle of wine. "A gift from my parents who will be here later. My dad was tied up at the office and my mom didn't want to leave without him so they sent me along first so as not be rude."
Nicholle rolled her hazel eyes. "Oh whatever, my parents are so preoccupied with making sure this benefit auction goes the way they want, I doubt they would even notice."
Nicholle linked arms with Massie and pulled her into the home's second foyer and down the steps into the grand room. All the furniture had been moved out and was instead replaced with three-hundred and fifty of New York's most elite in their finest. Men in three piece suits and scotch tumblers shook hands and laughed with one another while women, expertly dressed, gathered in groups of Chanel No. 5 perfume and Tiffany's jewelry to envy-shriek at each others' outfits, talk about the latest boards they had chaired or how their children were doing so well at Belmont or St. Francis or Nightingale or whichever overly-expensive private prep school they attended that dotted the Upper East Side. Spotted around were children of the elite sitting or milling about with each other, drinking the free booze and looking like they'd rather be anywhere but a Friday night auction.
But the Windsor-Hayes Friday night black tie auction was the official start to Ivory Weekend, the weekend long charity party that raised millions of dollars, connected the elite with the elite, and ended Sunday night with a ball that rivaled Fashion Week. Everyone appeared in their best. It would be Massie's first time attending since her move to the city last year and she was beyond excited. She had only heard rumors about ivory Weekend, and now here she was, right in the middle of it, best friends with the family who orchestrated the event.
"Let's get this wine on ice." Nicholle giggle-smiled mischievously and placed her empty flute on a waiter's tray. "Then the real fun can start. Wait here."
Nicholle grabbed the bag and sauntered off in the direction of the Yankee stadium-sized kitchen. Massie stood on the edge of the party in the Great Room where the floor-to-ceiling glass pane was open, exposing the massive, twinkle-light covered terrace. Her amber-eyes scanned the room looking for another familiar face, but her usual crowd wasn't where she could see her. The all too familiar millionaire party sounds filled her ears - champagne flutes clinking, violins screech-humming, and air kisses smacking.
Her amber eyes continued scanning the room until they locked with a familiar set of emerald green ones. The girl was standing over by the entrance to the Grand Terrace, nervously flicking through her phone and occasionally sipping from her wine glass. She was wearing a short Diane von Furstenburg lace dress in a deep red wine color matching the liquid in her glass. Her hair was pulled out of her Vogue-worthy face in a high ponytail. Massie scoffed to herself as the girl looked up again from her phone to find Massie still peering at her. She smiled and shoved her phone in the purse before pushing her way through the crowd to walk over to Massie's direction. If it were a year ago, Massie would have found herself intimated and reluctant to talk to the girl, but it wasn't and Massie had learned a lot since moving to New York.
She still thanked God, though, when Nicholle appeared by her side and linked arms with her again.
"Ready?" She chirped, having found another champagne glass.
How many of those had she had tonight?
"Yeah," Massie responded back coolly, but not before the girl appeared in front of them. Next to her, Massie felt Nicholle physically tense. She glanced over and Nicholle's eyes had shift from their usual hazel to a light violet. She was mad.
"What do you want Evelyn." Nicholle's voice was flat and her mouth set in a grim line as she looked over at her former best friend.
Evelyn was silent for a minute, her beautiful face registering an emotion in between hurt and longing as her green eyes burned into Nicholle's violet ones.
"I just want to talk, Cole. I miss you." She paused for a moment. She looked so nervous in that moment, tapping away at her wine glass and looking anywhere but at Nicholle, that Massie would not have believed that up until a few months ago, she was the reigning Queen Bee. "I want to apologize."
Nicholle removed her arm from Massie and downed the rest of the champagne before speaking. "And why should I listen to anything you have to say?"
Evelyn took another sip of her wine. "I -" She paused and looked down at the floor, unable to continue.
Nicholle scoffed, replacing her empty flute with a filled water glass when a waiter passed. "That's what I thought. I hope you have a nice life Evelyn." She turned to Massie. "Meet me upstairs when you're done here." She frowned looking at Evelyn before strutting off in the direction of the Grand Staircase.
When Nicholle was out of ear shot, Evelyn locked eyes again with Massie, her green eyes filled with something incomprehensible. "Looks like you finally got what you wanted."
"Evelyn, I-" Massie started before Evelyn held up her manicured hand, the universal sign to stop talking.
"I knew you were a social climbing wannabe from the minute I met you," Evelyn scowled and locked eyes with Massie. "But I still took you in and befriended you. So thanks for ruining my relationship with the only person that matters, bitch."
Massie's mouth dropped open, but she remained silent as Evelyn drained her wine glass.
"Have a nice life." She spat, placing her empty wine glass on a passing waiter's tray before sauntering off in the direction of the door.
So much for a nice evening.