The Socialite - J'nell Ciesielski Page 0,2

our own. The new nobility for the new world.”

Eric. The name spoken with such intimacy screamed like a siren in Kat’s head. Her baby sister, living with a man. The situation was sickening at best. As always, instead of heeding the warnings all around her, the girl had run straight into the fantasy she had conjured for herself. Only instead of boys, dance halls, and bathtub gin, she had thrown herself into the arms of a vile ideology and a man she knew nothing about. Except that he offered an escape from the crushing grip of their parents.

Hooking her arm through Kat’s, Ellie guided her back into the crush of guests. The crowd parted for her like Moses and the Red Sea. “As the new queen of Paris, I shall introduce you to all my friends. You’ll love them.”

I bet. “I don’t know if I could hear introductions over this din.” Kat pointed to the gramophone now blaring “C’est si bon.”

“What? Oh, no. These aren’t my friends. They’re mainly Eric’s.” Ellie took another long pull from her cigarette before tapping off an inch’s worth of ash into the nearest Ming vase. “I talk to them, too, of course, but my dearest friends couldn’t make it tonight.”

Too busy attending a book burning? Dread curled in Kat’s stomach before she dared the question out loud. “Who is this mysterious Eric?”

Light sparkled in Ellie’s eyes as her lips curved into a dreamy smile. “The most wonderful man, with the most beautiful blue eyes you’ve ever seen. Everywhere we go, men clamor to shake his hand and women purr for his attention, but he belongs to me.” Her eyes clouded for a moment. “Or at least he will soon.”

Kat pulled them to a stop behind the powder-blue settee. On the other side, a game of stacking empty wineglasses on the Queen Anne end table was well under way. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing at all. Darling, where are you staying?”

Kat bit her tongue. Prodding further into this Eric character would lead to nothing good. She had a big enough headache already. “The San Regis.”

“Not anymore. You’re staying right here with me, and we’ll stay up all night chatting just like we used to do.” Wetness glistened in Ellie’s eye. She bit the corner of her lip. “I’ve missed you, Kat.”

A lump bobbed in Kat’s throat. “I’ve missed you too. We all have.”

“We?” The wetness blinked from Ellie’s eye. Yanking a fresh cigarette from the bodice of her gown, she jammed it into the holder and lit it. “That’s why you’re really here, isn’t it? The Firm sent you to drag me back. Well, I’m not going. I’m staying here, so you’ve wasted a trip.”

“I came because I haven’t seen or heard from you in over a year.”

“As you can see, there’s nothing to worry about, because I’m doing quite well here. Free to do whatever I like for the first time in my life.”

“I didn’t know that back in jolly old England.” Where you left me. Kat took a deep breath, pushing down the stab of betrayal. Different as night and day, they were still sisters. They’d shared secrets, giggled until all hours of the night, gone ice-skating together, and shopping. Their memories were wrapped together in shared childhood, but it hadn’t always been easy. Kat adhered to the rules while Ellie lived to break them. Kat followed the well-ordered path the family laid before her while Ellie traipsed into the grass without a backward glance, abandoning her.

Sisters weren’t supposed to abandon each other.

Whatever sense of betrayal that radiated in Kat’s heart did not show on her sister’s polished face. For all her grown-up airs, the past year hadn’t taught Ellie to consider her actions’ effect on others. Now wasn’t the time to raise those hurts, nor was it something a well-bred lady would bring up. If Kat represented anything, it was a lifetime’s lessons of good breeding. “How about a glass of that famous French champagne for your dear parched sister?”

Ellie raised a slender eyebrow. “Parched for champagne? And here I thought tea was the only thing running in your veins.”

“When in Rome—or in this case Paris.”

“Kathleen Whitford, the living prodigy to duty, dips her standards to partake with the sinners. Will wonders never cease?”

“You above all others know I’m no saint.”

“Sure, and I’ve got a halo hanging in my closet.” Never one to hold a grudge for too long, Ellie snorted and waved a waiter over. Grabbing two glasses from his tray, she