Chapter Text
"Shit. That's this weekend?"
In a moment, Sophie entire body tensed up and froze, her hand instinctually clutching the fabric of the gown hanging next to her in a death grip as she attempted to use it to keep herself grounded. She was certain that as her heart, that was slamming against her sternum, had momentarily stopped.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, her mind began to repeat rapidly.
"Kate, please tell me you didn't forget?" Sophie slowly asked into the phone, trying not to let the panic leak into her voice.
Deep breath, Sophie, she told herself. You are not about to have a panic attack in a H&M dressing room.
"Sophie, I'm so sorry," Kate began. "I thought it was next week. I swear. I even put it down on my calendar that it was. Copied it directly from the invite."
She should have called earlier. Yesterday. Last week. Last month! She should have ensured everything was in order like usual, especially because her gut had been telling her since the day the invite arrived in her mailbox that this would happen.
"Can you still make it?" Sophie asked, knowing the answer.
Kate sighed. "I would. I swear I would, but Anthony and I are already set to go to Venice this weekend."
Sophie was forced to bite down on her tongue, not wanting to snap at her best friend that she was pretty sure Anthony, Kate's very wealthy boyfriend, could probably move the ticket dates without even batting an eye at the cost of rescheduling, but that would be selfish.
She shouldn't be getting in the way of Kate's happiness.
Stupid Anthony with his stupid money and being stupidly in love with Kate, making her best friend stupidly happy. Couldn't he see he was making Sophie's life difficult?
"I'm so sorry," Kate told her. "I'll make it up to you. I promise."
"It's fine, Kate. I'll figure it out," Sophie gently assured her. "I can ask some-"
"No, this is on me," Kate interrupted. "I screwed this up, and I'm not going to let you walk into that vulture's nest alone."
By vulture's nest, she meant their school reunion, the one for St. George's Prep, the private school they had attended in their youth.
Some of the alums from their year had been organizing them. This time it was the ten-year reunion. There had been a five-year one, but neither Sophie nor Kate had gone.
Mainly because they hadn't known about it.
Which was because they, unsurprisingly, hadn't been invited.
It wasn't a surprise to Kate and Sophie. They hadn't been high on the social hierarchy of St. George's during their time for many reasons. They were both confident the reasons their invites had never arrived were due to the reunion organizers, including Sophie's former stepsister and her little clique.
Rosamund Reiling and her little gang had been in charge of the alumnae organizing since they had all finished year eleven together. Her, Cressida Cowper, Hannah Abbott, and the identical twins Julia and Quinn Hatting had been running the events for the alumnae ever since.
They'd only discovered the events had occurred after they ran into Hannah and Posy, Rosamund's sister, and Sophie's other former stepsister, in Covent Gardens about two months back. Hannah, the nicest one in the group (and also the most oblivious), had asked them if they'd gotten the 'save the date' card, which had already been mailed out months prior.
"Must have missed it. You know how erratic the post can get," Kate had replied with ease, glancing at an uncomfortable-looking Posy with a brow raised. Posy quickly looked away, unable to look either of them in the eye.
"Oh! Let me make a note of that," Hannah had told her, pulling out her phone. "I'll make sure you guys get the RSVPs. I'm just about to mail them out."
And she did. Sophie and Kate had gotten theirs a week later, and initially, neither thought about going. They felt it was a waste if they were honest, and they didn't want to interact with their old classmates. Didn't matter the event had an open bar.
Secondary school had been, as they say, hell. For Sophie in particular.
And going to the reunion meant running into Rosamund, and Posy (again), who Sophie hadn't seen since the civil suit her aunt had filed against their mother had concluded.
It had been some of the worst years of her life, and it had taken Sophie quite some time to move past everything that had happened then.
She was forever grateful for Kate and Edwina (and their mother, Mary) for getting her through it all.
And maybe that's why she had decided to go.
Actually, no, it had been Kate who had decided that she should go. After she, Sophie, and Edwina had gotten wine drunk one night, Kate had impulsively and drunkenly decided to stalk a few particularindividuals through social media. Realizing their lives were going particularly better than others, Edwina with her modeling, Kate working as a solicitor, and Sophie working with a charity to help foster children, Kate concluded that they shouldn't care what the others thought. Besides, the Rokesby Hotel, where the reunion was planned to be hosted, was only two or three train stops away from their apartments, so they could go, have a few drinks, and leave before anyone realized they were there.
And unlike Sophie, Kate and Edwina had been friends with others at their school. Edwina through the school plays she did, and Kate through her football teammates. Sophie had gotten along with a few of them, but if she was honest, she had only considered Edwina and Kate to be her closest friends when she'd left.
And now that Kate wasn't going, Sophie was sure how comfortable she would be on her own.
Deep down, she knew what this meant.
That she finally had a reason to back out.
"Kate, it really doesn't matter. I frankly don't even want to go," Sophie started again.
"I'll find you a date. I'll call you back once I've got one, okay?" Kate told her, not listening to anything she’d just said, and there was a click before the line went dead.
Sophie sighed, knowing there wasn't much she could do now to stop Kate once her mind was set. Kate was now on a mission, and given she'd also been trying to set Sophie up on blind dates for the past few months, Sophie doubted she could get in her friend's way. She didn't know how comfortable it would be to go to her school reunion with someone she didn't know.
But, she had a few friends of her own she could ask, and an open bar would certainly peak their interests. And if she asked all of them, well, she couldn't be faulted for not trying.
Who knows, one of them might be free.
~~~
It went as well as she'd thought it would.
"Sophie, I would, but I don't think I can get a sitter on that close notice," Phillip told her before he moved away from the phone. She heard him shout to someone in the background. "Amanda! Stop sitting on your brother's head!"
But his answer had Sophie dropping her own head onto the desk in front of her. She tried to bite back a groan. Disappointed and frustrated. Phillip was her last option. Philip was the last of her university friends she could ask. There was no one else now.
Damnit.
She took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "It's fine, Phillip. Don't worry about it."
"Have you asked Edwina?" Phillip suggested after he brought the phone back to his ear.
"In Paris for a shoot. Won't be back till Monday," Sophie replied.
"What about Hugh?"
"It's his brother's birthday Sunday. He's in Wiltshire currently."
"Michael?"
"In Inverness visiting his mum."
Technically, Michael had said yes. Immediately, in fact. Ever the gentleman, Michael hadn't hesitated to tell her he could hope on a train that evening and be back in London to support her, but Sophie told him not to. She knew his mother had been ill recently, hence his reason for visiting, and she didn't want to make him do all that traveling for some silly little reunion she knew would be a waste of their time. She told him to stay in Scotland and tell his mother she'd said hi, and Michael told her he'd swing by after he got back, and she could bitch to him about it over dinner.
"I'm touched to know I'm your last choice," Phillip chuckled.
Sophie made a face, even though he couldn't see it. "As much as I love you, you have two toddlers. I kind of already know you'll have to say no."
Being a single father of two four-year-olds at twenty-eight had certainly limited Phillip's free time. Especially after Mariana had left him for his own brother and run off to Norway, there wasn't anyone else to help take care of the twins.
Well, there was. Oliver and Amanda had three aunts and two uncles that would do anything for them, and Sophie was confident Phillip would lay his life down for them without a single thought. He'd do anything for them, even if it meant losing his social life.
"You're not wrong but–hold on," Phillip moved away from the phone again. "Amanda! I will not ask you again. Stop sitting on your brother."
Sophie chuckled. "Busy morning?" she asked.
"You have no idea," Phillip answered with a sigh. "But anyway, as I was saying, why is it so important for you to go? I thought you hated your time at St. George?"
"I didn't hate it. There were some good moments. I just…" Sophie sighed.
She supposed part of it was to face her fears. Her trauma. She'd gone through a lot during her time at St. George: losing her father in year seven, the abuse from Araminta until year ten when child protective services removed her from her father's home, Mary taking guardianship until Sophie's aunt in New York could be located and made aware of what had been happening, and then, of course, the lawsuit against Araminta for embezzling her inheritance.
Not to mention the years of bullying and torment throughout that time from Rosamund. Bullying, which had continued until Sophie and Kate finished at St. George's and attended Queen Charlotte Academy for sixth form.
She'd left all of that in the past. She'd had to.
"You know you don't have to go," Phillip told her gently after a few moments of silence.
"Yeah, I know," Sophie replied sullenly.
At this point, she probably wasn't going to. It was in three days, and Kate still hadn't gotten back to her with a date.
"You want to come over for movie night tonight? Amanda is still caught up in her Moana phase, but I'm certain she will allow you to pick the movie," Phillip told her, and there it was, the reason he'd become her unofficial older brother (even though he was only older than her by two weeks). "Age appropriate, of course."
"Of course," Sophie smiled. "Sounds good. I'll see you tonight."
She'd head there after work. Grab takeout for them on the way. It would be a nice evening to distract her from thinking about the reunion.
She continued with the workday, attending meetings, reviewing proposals, and checking in on the status of their next fundraising event. While she was finishing up lunch, tossing the plastic container that had once held the salad she'd just eaten, her phone buzzed, notifying her of a text.
Unlocking her phone, she found it was a text from Kate.
I got you a date. Anthony's brother said he could go.
The phone was already against her ear as she read the text, hastily jumping up to close the blinds of her office. Sophie had no interest in letting anyone see her pacing her office in a panic.
"What?" she exclaimed into the phone once it was picked up.
"Okay, listen, I didn't plan to. It just happened. Benedict swung by to pick up Newton, and I may or may not have been ranting to Anthony about Rosamund when he came in-" Kate started.
"Anthony's siblings can just walk into your apartment? With the amount of sex, you two have?" Sophie asked brows raised as she tried desperately to ignore the flip her stomach did at the mention of Benedict's name.
"I will have you know there is a doorman and a bell they have to get through before they can even get upstairs," Kate shot back as Sophie couldn’t help but sniggered, even in her panic. "As I was saying. I sort of told him what happened and how I couldn't go, and he offered to be your date. Said he'd be, and I quote, 'welcomed to help you rub it in Rosie's face how wonderful your life is going right now.'"
"That's sweet of him, but he doesn't need to do that," Sophie told her.
Mainly because Benedict Bridgerton was the last man she wanted to go to her school reunion with.
For many reasons.
Such as the fact that every time she'd interacted with him, she suddenly found herself incapable of speaking. Her heart pounding in her chest from excitement and her stomach suddenly filled with butterflies.
Something she'd never told Kate.
They'd met for the first time two years ago. Technically, Sophie had worked for his mother for seven years, but Benedict had been studying art for the first five of those in Italy. He'd only just moved back to England.
And with his move back, her life had been completely thrown upside down when she'd been interrupted from reviewing budget reports by a tall, dark-haired man with lovely, pale eyes and a crooked smile knocking on her office door and asking where his mother was.
"Last I checked, this was where her office was," he said to her with a confused smile.
Sophie frowned, equally confused.
"Benedict," he supplied, chuckling after he saw her face. "The second one."
"Oh! Right. Yes, of course, sorry. Her office was moved upstairs after the renovations were completed," Sophie explained, getting up from her desk. "I can show you up."
She'd then spent the next ten minutes trying not to focus on Benedict's forearms as she led him through the building and up the elevator to Violet's new office. Desperately trying to ignore how toned and tan he was from being in the Italian sun all these years. The lovely white button-up he’d been wearing, with the sleeves rolled up to expose his nice forearms, and dark denim jeans, were much more casual than what the employees around them were wearing. There was a reason for that. He'd just arrived, having come straight from Heathrow to surprise his mother (who had been ecstatic when she spotted him) a day earlier than he told her he'd be arriving.
Since then, they'd seen each other a few times. And every time they did, Sophie fell more and more in love with him.
"I already gave him the time and place. He'll pick you up at six. You guys will have fun. Benedict will make sure you do," Kate told her.
Sophie's stomach was spinning like a washing machine. She hadn't been on a date in years, a successful one, she should say, and now she was going to use her school reunion as one.
"I don't know," she said back slowly, returning to her desk and sitting back down.
"Benedict's a good guy. He knows you need someone in your corner Saturday night, and he'll do that," Kate explained. "He'll be whatever you want him to be."
"Kate, I-" she started.
"Look. If you want to leave early, you can. Go out for drinks and get dinner instead. As I said, Benedict will let you lead," Kate told her. "You should go, Sophie. I love you, but you can't keep running away from what happened."
"I can try," she joked weakly.
Kate sighed. "You can't let them run your life forever."
Sophie felt herself slump further into her desk chair, rubbing a hand over her face.
"I know," she mumbled into the phone.
"Just go. Check it out, have a drink or two, and then leave," Kate advised gently. "Besides, your life is going ten times better than theirs."
"Give me a day, okay?" Sophie told her. "I'll think about it."
"I'm only giving you the day," Kate replied, relenting.
"Thank you," Sophie said back.
"Anytime," Kate returned gently. "I'll check in with you tomorrow."
Sophie mumbled her understanding back before she gave Kate a quick goodbye. Kate returned the goodbye with her own and a reminder she was expecting an answer from her tomorrow before there was a click and the line went dead.
Placing her phone down on the desk, Sophie sighed, leaning back into her office chair. She knew twenty-four hours would not be enough time to figure this out.
~~~
"Well, I can see reasons to go. And to not go," Phillip told her.
They were seated on his couch, Amanda and Oliver were in front of them, Oliver sitting cross-legged watching the screen while Amanda stood tall, waving her arms from side to side, belting an off-key rendition of You're Welcome alongside Maui.
Curled up on the couch, sitting with her feet under her, Sophie took a sip of her wine. "That doesn't make it easier for me to decide."
Phillip gave her a sympathetic smile.
"You know what I'm going to say," he started, and she sighed, knowing exactly what he would say. "Unfortunately, this is something you have to choose. I can't tell you what to do."
"I know," she groaned, letting her head fall back onto the couch.
He chuckled. "Talk about Sophie's Choice."
Sophie reached out to smack him on the arm, but Phillip only continued to laugh. She smiled as she took another sip of her wine.
Seeing how little of an amount of wine she now had, Phillip grabbed the bottle off the table to top her off. "You really haven't seen any of them since you finished?" Phillip asked, pouring the dark red liquid into her glass.
She nodded. "Pretty much. The restraining order Aunt Liz got was on all three of them."
"Araminta still sending you letters?" Phillip inquired.
Ah, yes, the letters. All of which had started after the lawsuit had been filed. The contents ranged from begging to demanding. At first, it had been for Sophie to visit, so Araminta could explain how much of a big misunderstanding this all was. That her aunt, whom Araminta had purposefully kept away from Sophie, was manipulating her and turning her against Araminta. When that didn't work, the letters became vicious. No longer pleading but now ordering her to come to the two-bedroom, council estate flat she'd been banished to. When those were also left unanswered, the letters began to become more infrequent. Every few months, a letter would come for Sophie, begging her to 'use her inheritance for good' and help Araminta stay on her feet.
Funny, given that Araminta had spent much of Sophie's original inheritance. Fifty percent of it had been discovered to have been withdrawn over a period of four years, the years when Araminta had had access to it. And it had been a lot of money, Sophie later found out. All of which was supposed to be used to care for her health, schooling, and other necessities. Araminta had lied to the solicitor about why she needed the money withdrawn each time.
Hence the embezzlement charge.
She shook her head. "Not recently."
The letters had finally stopped about four years ago. Sophie wasn't a hundred percent sure if they had, since Mary had hidden many of them over the years and since they'd always arrived at the Sharma's home address, there was a possibility Mary didn't want her to worry.
"My guess is Mary finally told Aunt Liz, who got the solicitor to make her stop," Sophie added.
"Every time I learn more about this woman, I hate her more and more," Phillip informed her.
Sophie shrugged, not wanting to get into it. "It was a long time ago."
"So, going to your reunion shouldn't be that big of a deal, should it?" Phillip asked knowingly. "It's Rosamund, isn't it?"
Rosamund, who had made most of Sophie's schooling years a nightmare from the moment Sophie's father helped secure her and Posy a place at St. George's, was (obviously) the biggest reason. When Rosamund started year six with her, her schooling changed overnight.
It started with simple taunting. Rosamund would mock her clothes, what she said, and how she acted—making Sophie start second-guessing herself on everything. She became quieter and more nervous at home and then at school. The beginnings of a social anxiety disorder that Sophie still struggled with at times.
Despising the fact that Sophie was friends with those who had what Rosamund viewed as 'high social standing,' she'd done everything she could to destroy the existing friendships Sophie had. Then, she worked to make sure Sophie was ostracized from all the other students, isolating her socially. Her home life had become a continuous eggshell walk because of Rosamund (and Araminta). And not wanting to worry her father or ruin his new marriage, Sophie had never told him what was happening.
It didn't help Sophie that after her father died, Araminta's supposed kindness went with him. Once her father was buried and the will read, she’d found herself a prisoner in her own home.
"Hey," Phillip tapped her lightly on the shoulder, snapping her from her thoughts. "Where'd you go?"
Reminiscing over a past she'd rather forget.
"Just mulling over my choices," Sophie said instead, taking another sip of her wine. A big one this time. Ultimately, she decided at the last second to down the entire glass.
Phillip gently took her empty wine glass away, placing it on the table before them, effectively cutting her off for the night.
"What would you do? If you were in my position?" she questioned, relaxing back into the couch.
"I probably wouldn't go," Phillip replied with a shrug. "You know, I don't like being in crowds. I'm not a social butterfly like Michael or Edwina."
Phillip had his own issues, similar to Sophie's, partly due to his father. Phillip's father had sounded genuinely monstrous. He had had a petulance for using a belt to discipline over anything. She'd glimpsed the scars he'd put on Phillip's back, ones that her friend desperately tried to hide, especially from the twins.
"Neither one of us are," she reminded, reaching out to rub his arm in comfort.
Shared backstories. Shared trauma. Maybe that was part of the reason she and Phillip were so close.
"Daddy, can we have more popcorn?" Oliver asked, holding out his empty plastic bowl. Flecks of broken pieces of popcorn and unpopped kernels were all that remained, shifting around the bowl as Oliver moved.
"Alright," Phillip told him, taking the bowl. "But no more after this, okay? This is your third bowl, and you barely touched your vegetables at dinner."
Oliver nodded as he watched his father rise from the couch, heading into the small kitchen and throwing more popcorn bags in the microwave. The young boy followed, standing by the microwave to watch in awe as the bag slowly expanded and began to jerk and shift with every kernel that exploded within its packaging. Sophie was sure it was less the tasty, buttery popcorn that the boy wanted and more getting to watch it pop in the microwave as it was made.
As she watched her godson, Sophie took the time to mull over the question of the evening.
To go or not to go? Now, that is the question.
Going through the list of pros and cons, the one she'd been adding to throughout the day (which now had many cons on it), she kept coming back to the same answer. She didn't know if she wanted to go, but her gut kept saying not to.
But a small part of her gut said she should.
"It's your choice. Not mine," Phillip told her as he returned to the couch. "And whatever you decide. I'll back you."
She made her decision that night.
The following day, Sophie texted Kate and told her she wasn't going.
And felt horrible for the rest of the week.
~~~
She decided to go. Last minute Saturday morning, a burst of courage flooded through Sophie and convinced her that it was a good idea to go to the reunion. That she needed to go. Hell, she was sure her old therapist would approve of her decision. Tell her to face her fears head-on.
But she was a horrible person.
The absolute worst.
She shouldn't have lied. To Kate! She lied to her best friend of fifteen years. Lied to her about not going to her reunion and then decided to go solely so she wouldn't have to go with the guy she'd been crushing hard on for the past two years. It made her a horrible friend. Horrible.
She was a terrible friend.
Truly. Kate deserved better.
And it certainly didn't help that Sophie was currently hiding behind a marble pillar in the main reception area of the Rokesby, and had been since her arrival, fiddling with her hair and dress because she'd spotted Rosamund standing right by the welcome table, greeting guests as they arrived.
Dressed, head to toe in Barbie pink, with her platinum blond hair falling to her shoulders where it curled into a perfect circle at the end, Rosamund might as well have been packaged into a box and shipped off to the toy store given how she looked like a walking barbie doll. Skinny with perfect proportions and a perfect smile.
All hiding a less-than-perfect personality behind it.
Sophie pulled at the hem of her dress, trying to ensure the silver material covered her ass and thighs. She was getting more nervous with each passing second, and the more she did, the more she began to second-guess herself. Starting with her decision to wear said silver dress.
If she kept pulling at it, she'd stretch the soft, shimmering fabric, which fitted perfectly around her curves. The skirt rested right above the knee while the silver material became looser around her chest, plunging between her breasts. She couldn't tell if the dress was the right choice for the reunion. Was it short? Yes. Was it exposing too much? No. Did it match the realm of what everyone else wore? Yes, Rosamund's dress was tighter and shorter than the one Sophie was currently wearing. The silver wasn't too bright or flashy, a metallic silver with an almost pale blue tinge when the light hit it perfectly. Even with the plunge exposing her sternum, it was still pretty modest.
Sophie made herself believe again that she was wearing the right outfit for tonight as she was getting ready. She'd been doing a solid job of convincing herself she looked good up until she arrived at the Rokesby Hotel.
Because the second she spotted Rosamund, the memories of 'Slutty Sophie' and 'Sophia the Slag' came to the surface of her memories. Leaving her repeatedly checking over her hair and makeup in the camera of her phone while taking deep, steadying breaths.
In–one, two, three. Out–one, two, three. In–one, two, three. Out–one, two, three. And repeat.
What the hell was she even supposed to say? Hello? How are you? How's your horrible mother who's wanted me dead since the moment she met me? Sophie doubted small talk would be possible between her and Rosamund. It was never possible, not even when they'd lived in the same house.
"You can do this," Sophie cheered herself on, trying to find the courage to round the pillar and go to the table. "You will not walk out of this hotel. You will not be a coward."
Taking another deep breath, Sophie straightened out her back and turned, rounding the corner, and headed towards the table.
Cressida was now standing with Rosamund because, of course, she would be. The two of them were practically conjoined at the hip. To her surprise, though, Posy was also standing at the table. Sophie hadn't noticed her when she'd first walked in, but there she was, standing to Rosamund's left and doing everything she could to look small and unnoticeable. Odd, given Posy, had been the year below them, but then again, she'd always followed Rosamund and her gang around when they'd been at St. George's, being used as a personal secretary by her sister.
Posy had been the first one Sophie forgave. Out of the three of them, Posy had done the most for her (or tried to). In another life, if everything between their families had never happened, Sophie had wondered if they could have actually been close friends—maybe even sisters. Posy had endured as much verbal abuse from her mother as Sophie had.
But Araminta and Rosamund had always gotten in between them being able to become friends. To become anything.
And the moment her eyes locked with Rosamund’s; Sophie saw the excitement flash in her icy blue eyes. Her painted red lips pulled up into a cruel smile.
"Well, if it isn't Slutty Sophie," Sophie flinched as the nickname hit. Rosamund's smile widened as Cressida smirked next to her. "I honestly didn't think you'd have the guts to show up."
Sophie nodded to her. "Rosamund. You look well."
"Hi, Sophie," Posy told her weakly, giving a small wave. Sophie nodded her hello back.
"No, Kate?" Rosamund asked mockingly, her dark lips pouting. She glanced around the space behind Sophie. "Or Edwina, by the looks of it."
"Kate's in Venice with her boyfriend. Edwina is in Paris," Sophie replied stiffly.
"Must be living better lives than you. Surprised they still haven't dropped you yet," Cressida said this time. "Everyone else already has, but I guess the Sharmas are too stupid to realize how much of a waste you are. All that time they spent on your case. How much money did they spend on you?"
None that they cared about. No matter how many times Sophie or her aunt had tried to repay them for taking Sophie in, Mary had refused to take any money from them. She said it wasn't about the money for them but doing the right thing.
"Your family, Sophie," Mary had told her the last time she tried after graduation. "I'd do that all again and more if I had to."
"Do you need me to sign anywhere?" Sophie asked Rosamund, ignoring Cressida.
Rosamund scoffed. "You really came here alone?"
"I guess she doesn't have anything better to do," Cressida said to Rosamund as if Sophie wasn't standing directly in front of her.
"Here you go, Sophie," Posy said softly, handing her the sticker with her name on it. Sophie thanked her and stuck it on her dress.
"How pathetic," Rosamund continued, laughing like she'd just been told a hysterical joke.
Ten years since they'd last seen each other, and now it was as if they were back in the hallways of St. George's, Sophie being cornered against her locker by them as she tried to get her books for class. Standing in front of the cloth-covered table, the little welcome sign and name tag stickers being the only thing standing between them, Sophie felt herself begin to feel very small.
Don't be a coward. Don't let them get to you.
Straightening her back out and holding her head high, Sophie flashed a polite smile to them.
"It was nice to see you again," she forced out. When she looked at Posy, she smiled at a genuine one. "And you too, Posy."
Rosamund appeared to be in stitches now. "Oh my god, you are so pathetic."
Sophie clenched her free hand into a fist, digging into the skin of her palm while tightening her grip on the clutch she held in her other hand. She swallowed, feeling the hot tears building in her eyes as she bit down on the inside of her cheek.
"Rosamund, stop," Posy whispered.
But Rosamund's head snapped in her sister's direction, making Posy flinch away from the sneer Rosamund gave her, silencing her.
"What? You know I'm right," she snapped before looking back at Sophie. "A walking disappointment. You must be so grateful your daddy died before he could see it."
Her nails dug deeper into her palms, close to cutting through the skin, as Sophie slowly took a deep breath, sucking in the air to help steady her racing heart. She'd expected pettiness and cruelty, but she hadn't prepared for Rosamund dragging her father into it.
The adrenaline was already beginning to pump through her system, the desire to flee slipping through her mind. A good escape plan. Didn't sound like such a bad idea right now. All she'd have to do was turn around and walk right out the door she'd come in through.
And then a buzzing sensation came over her, steadying her momentarily. It felt like fingers tickling the back of her neck, making her shiver and grounding her as she focused more on the sensation and less on her school-time bully.
"Ah, there you are," a low, familiar, masculine voice said as Sophie felt an arm wrap around her, a hand sliding over the fabric of her dress, sending another shiver through her before it came to a rest on her hip. "I've been looking everywhere for you."
Sophie looked over and found she had to tilt her head back to look at the figure who'd come up behind her. Dark hair, pale eyes, and the adorable, recognizable crooked smile that would practically make her swoon every time she saw it (especially if she was the one receiving it). She knew exactly who it was.
Benedict Bridgerton.
What the hell was he doing here?
"Hi," she croaked out in surprise.
"Sorry it took me so long," he leaned down and kissed her cheek. Sophie felt a shock go through her body as his lips grazed her cheek, making her briefly stiffen. "Had to wait for the valet."
"Oh, it's-it's okay," Sophie stuttered, surprised by his sudden forwardness.
"I'm sorry. Who exactly are you?" Rosamund asked with a tight smile, annoyed at having been interrupted.
Benedict turned towards her, forcing a charming smile as he stuck his hand out. "Benedict Bridgerton. Sophie's boyfriend."
Sophie's eyebrows shot up. She was sure her brain had short-circuited.
Her what?
Quickly glancing back toward the others, Sophie saw varying degrees of emotions on the three women's faces. Posy's mouth was hanging wide open as she began to vibrate with excitement from what she was witnessing, while it seemed as if Cressida's brain had stopped working entirely. She just stood by the table, staring wide-eyed at them, having recognized who Benedict was immediately.
While as stunned as she was, Rosamund's eyes were blazing with fury.
She blinked before plastering her fake smile back on her face. "I'm sorry, you're her what?"
"Boyfriend," Benedict repeated with ease, having dropped his hand back to his side and enunciating the words in a way that it sounded as if he was speaking to a five-year-old before looking back at Sophie. "What's it been now, Soph, two years?"
Sophie forced herself to nod, still staring at him in wide-eyed shock. She had no idea what to say, but apparently, Benedict did.
His crooked grin widened as he looked back at Rosamund. "Couldn't believe my luck, getting someone like her. Never thought for a minute that she'd agree to go out with me, what with how busy she is, but she did. And I don't think I've ever been happier."
Rosamund opened her mouth to argue against what Benedict had just said, but before she could, Sophie felt her body being pushed away from the table and towards the open doors leading into the ballroom.
"We better get inside. Don't want to miss the party. It was nice meeting you," he added over his shoulder, moving her further and further away.
"Bridgerton. He said, Bridgerton, right?" Sophie heard Cressida whisper in shock as they walked away.
"What the fuck?" Rosamund was heard hissing.
But Benedict didn't appear to have heard them or had just ignored them as they stepped over the threshold of the ballroom. He gently tugged her off to the side, out of view of everyone else. As far away from the pounding music so that they can have a moment to speak.
"Are you okay?" he asked her, handing her a handkerchief from his suit pocket. Looking him over, Sophie saw he was wearing a dark, almost black, navy suit, a nice one too. It somehow matched the shimmery silver she was wearing.
Sophie quickly swiped away the wetness from her eyes with the soft fabric square, nodding to him as she sniffled.
"Edwina and Kate told me that they were vicious, but I didn't think they'd be cruel," Benedict told her, glaring at the doorway they'd just entered from.
"How did you even know I was-?" she started.
"Kate guessed that you had probably lied to her and told me to come here regardless to make sure," he replied looking back towards her.
Damn.
"You didn't need to come out here and wait for me. What would you have done if I hadn't shown up? You would have wasted your entire evening," she told him.
Benedict shrugged. "I had nothing else to do tonight, frankly. And the bar here is pretty good."
Sophie had no idea what to say. The last time she'd seen Benedict had been a month ago. He'd dropped off a few of his paintings for the silent auction event they were hosting next week.
She'd been there to ensure the paintings were correctly stored in the office before being taken to the event's venue.
They'd chatted amicably as she helped him bring the paintings upstairs. Sophie laughed at his jokes and got an update on how his gallery had been going. He jokingly asked if his mother was treating her well and hadn't started working her to death yet, which Sophie had quickly assured him she wasn't. Once everything was where it needed to be, they'd parted ways, with Sophie assuming she'd see Benedict next at the auction.
And now they were here. With Benedict getting a front-row seat to her baggage.
"I'm sorry. You shouldn't be here, wasting your time on me," she told him sullenly, wiping more water from her eyes as she looked away from him in shame.
"Hey," Benedict's hand brushed against her arm, and Sophie couldn't help but jump, feeling a jolt of electricity run through her, like a static shock almost but somehow different. She glanced up at him, seeing he was staring at her with a kind smile. "I really don't mind," he told her.
She didn't deserve this.
Thank you," she told him, handing the handkerchief back.
"Anytime," he replied. "You look amazing, by the way."
Sophie felt her cheeks burn as she laughed nervously, the fluttering in her stomach building up again. "Thank you. You…you look good too."
"Sorry about the...um…" he motioned toward her cheek. He was talking about kissing her. "I didn't mean to just drop that on you."
Of course. Kate had mentioned that Benedict was more than welcome to pretend to be in a relationship with her. Hence why he'd so quickly labeled himself her partner. She should have realized. No matter the spark of excitement that went through her when his lips had pressed against her cheek, he was only here as a favor to a friend.
"Oh, it's fine," she assured him.
"I know I'm not the best option-" he started.
"Oh no, I don't-I don't think that," she quickly told him, shaking her head.
Coming to her reunion with a famed Bridgerton was the biggest 'fuck you' she could have ever given. One of the most well-known and wealthiest families in England. Practically nobility, especially since one of Benedict's sisters had married a duke.
He smiled, the left side of her mouth tilting up. "Really?"
Sophie's cheeks only burned harder. She felt like a schoolgirl, twirling her curls around her finger and wanting to giggle because the cutest guy in school smiled at her. Her subconscious snapped at her to get a grip.
"Have you had anything to eat?" Benedict asked.
"I had something light before I left," she replied quickly.
"Well, at least let me get you a drink. What do you want? Wine? Beer?" he asked.
She definitely needed a drink to get through this evening. "Wine would be nice," she told him.
Benedict held out his elbow towards her, offering her to take it. Sophie said nothing as she linked her arm with his, allowing him to lead her across the room toward the bar.
It was nice, being close to him. For some reason, she felt safe when he was next to her. Comfortable.
"We'll need to come up with a story."
Sophie glanced up at him. He was right. They needed to be on the same page if anyone asked.
"Well, you told them we've been dating for two years," she informed him as they approached the bar.
"Yes, but how did we meet?" Benedict asked.
"Through work?" Sophie suggested. Easy to remember, and it was the truth.
"First date?"
"Art museum?"
"Where you fell in love with my impressive knowledge of renaissance and baroque artwork," Benedict continued.
"And your crooked smile," she added impulsively.
Benedict's brows popped upwards in surprise as said famous smile appeared on his face. "You like my smile?" he asked, intrigued.
"Um, well…yes," she stumbled. "Makes sense for us to have attributes of the other that we like."
"You're right," Benedict agreed, nodding his head, the sweet, dopey-looking smile still plastered on his face as he watched her. "You liked my smile, and sometimes I can't help but get lost in your pretty green eyes."
Her stomach did another little flip. Any more compliments from him and Sophie was sure she'd melt into the floor.
"Ohmygod," a high-pitched voice gasped, taking her attention away from Benedict. "Sophia? Sophia Gunningworth?"
Sophie glanced over to where she'd heard the voice coming from and spotted Jane Altridge, her old lab partner, heading in her direction.
"Gunningworth?" Benedict asked quietly. He'd only ever known her as Sophie Beckett.
"My father's last name," she whispered back quickly as Jane approached. "I took my mother’s after I left St. George's."
So, it would be difficult for Araminta to track her down.
"It is you," Jane smiled. "It's been so long. How are you?"
Sophie blinked. She and Jane had always sat next to each other in science. While they'd hardly interacted outside of class, Jane had always been polite and chatted with her when working together on assignments. They weren't friends, but Jane wasn't on Sophie's list of 'do not interact.'
She swallowed. "Good. How are you, Jane?"
"Good, good. I heard you're working with the Bridgerton Foundation. However did you land that? They're probably the toughest charities to get hired by," Jane asked.
She stumbled. Should she tell Jane she started as a simple secretary for Violet Bridgerton? She'd moved up since then. Violet had given her opportunity after opportunity to increase her skills and experience before offering her a position in the finance department. Was that the right thing to say, though?
"That would be my mother," Benedict answered for her. "She can be a bit of a stickler when it comes to hiring. Have to get the best, she always tells us, but Sophie proved herself more than capable of handling the workload."
Jane's dark eyes snapped towards Benedict, widening as she realized who he was.
But Benedict just stuck his hand out without a single care. "Benedict Bridgerton," he told her.
"Oh, I know who you are," Jane replied with a nervous giggle, taking his hand and shaking it. She glanced between the two, slowly putting the pieces together. "Are you two-?"
"Together? Yes," Benedict finished.
Intrigue flashed in Jane's eyes. "How long?"
"Two years," Sophie answered this time.
"How did you two meet, if I can ask?"
"Technically, through my mother, I supposed," Benedict replied with a soft chuckle. "We met during one of the charity events. My mother spoke nonstop about Sophie, and when we finally met…well, I suppose it was love at first sight."
He spoke with such ease. The words flowed from his mouth without hesitation; even Sophie believed he was telling the truth and not just making up a story on the spot.
"I'm starting to wonder if my mother had been trying to set us up this entire time," Benedict continued with a laugh. "Like she knew we would be perfect for each other."
"Well, you two certainly look quite a pair," Jane remarked. She glanced back towards Sophie. "You know, we still have space at our table. You're welcome to join us."
"Oh! Um…thank you," Sophie told her, unsure how to respond.
Jane gave them both a quick nod and a bright smile before saying she'd see them around, heading back towards her table a short distance away, where she was sitting with her friends.
"So far, so good," Benedict whispered with an encouraging smile, and Sophie gave him a small one back as they continued across the room and towards the bar.
Maybe tonight wouldn't be as bad as she thought.
Maybe it might actually be a good one.
But as she glanced up, Sophie found her feet suddenly glued to the floor as she froze in place, recognizing a figure standing by the bar. Her hearing slowly became overwhelmed by a buzzing noise, along with the pounding of her heart. Standing a few feet away, chatting to another man, was the only other person from her high school years who Sophie had no interest in ever seeing again. A man she had worked desperately towards forgetting and had never even thought would be present tonight.
Philip Cavender.