As soon as Piper had stepped foot onto the extensive grounds of the mansion, she had wanted to turn and run. She had sprung for a cute cocktail dress rather than her usual nice top and jeans, so she did not worry that her attire would stand out as low quality. Instead, she worried about the caliber of guest at the event. Every person she encountered stood poised and polished to a near unbelievable degree, and Piper could only imagine that such consistent beauty came from the almighty power of the dollar. She wondered if she could look as good with enough money; she doubted it.

Her mop of unkempt hair did not match the sleek coifs of the other guests – more blond than could possibly exist in the natural gene pool - and the very slight gap in her front teeth stood out as a tad unrefined. When she had heard of the invitation, Piper had anticipated a night of glamour and excitement. She just had not expected how completely she did not fit into those categories.

With her naturally board-straight flaxen hair, Molly looked the part of socialite with ease. Her lanky figure complimented the stylish blue tent dress which awoke her grey-blue eyes, and her gregarious personality instantly drew people to her. Piper, too, generally wore a large measure of approachability, but her insecurity limited her. Though she wanted to offer her usual, easy smiles, she found herself shyer than she should have as she plunged in through the heavy wooden double doors.

The sun had set behind the house just as she and Molly arrived, and the sky painted the bay with water color strokes of fuchsia, violet, and gold. If Piper could have paid a moment's attention, the artist in her would have squealed in delight. Unfortunately, the sight barely registered within the clashing lights of her growing discomfort.

When Molly sauntered directly to the bar, Piper excused herself to the restroom. Molly rolled her eyes. Piper sometimes took a glass of wine at dinner, but she found herself utterly reluctant to indulge at a social event. She had seen how heedless people grew at parties once under the influence of alcohol. Though she did not mind Molly's usual tipsiness, Piper did not enjoy participating herself – not when she risked her very social standing. Maybe if she had possessed Molly’s preternatural ability to imbibe with little effect, Piper would have followed her friend’s example, but Piper was a lightweight – she couldn’t manage it even if she had wanted to.

After a few minutes milling through the beautiful crowd, Piper stumbled back to the bar in search of Molly. When she found her friend, the gorgeous blond held some fruity-looking drink in her hand and had fallen into easy conversation with one of the obviously wealthy men at the bar. Molly waved Piper over.

“This is the friend I was telling you about, Declan. Piper, this is Declan Garrett of the Connecticut Garretts. Declan, Piper Hayes.”

Declan glanced Piper up and down and apparently found her wanting, so Piper shrugged him off in return. “Nice to meet you,” she offered stiffly, extending her hand to him.

After a flimsy handshake, Declan turned back to the bar, setting his drink down and grabbing Molly by the hand. “Dance with me,” he commanded, barely masking his boredom.

“My friend,” Molly protested, pulling back against him.

“Of course,” he conceded. “Mitch!” he called suddenly. “Come dance.”

A young man sauntered over to Declan's side, and Declan made the introductions. “Mitch Parkington, Molly Weaver and Piper Hayes, students from Brown. Molly and Piper, Mitch is a lobbyist for Pharmacan, Inc. Pharmaceuticals.”

Piper didn't correct the man's error. Not that her education from University of Rhode Island lacked anything, but she didn't like to take the time to invest an explanation on someone she would most likely not encounter after the party ended. “Do you work in D.C.?” she wondered, and the square-faced young man shook his head as the two couples wandered out to the dance floor. Mitch seemed nice enough when he spoke, but something about his air communicated that he stood affronted – for what, Piper couldn’t imagine.

“Providence for now. I'm more a jack-of-all-trades than a lobbyist, really,” he shrugged. “I'm still a rep for a couple drugs, but I also have some friends in the state legislature. I’ve been putting out feelers to my D.C. contacts to see if any of them could make use of my pharmaceutical knowledge, but no takers yet. I'm mostly working with state senators to increase funding for cancer research.”

Piper smiled. “A very noble cause,” she offered warmly. “Which company did your friend say?”

“Pharmacan. It’s really the only game in town that gives me a chance at the Capitol, which is where I eventually hope to work.”

“Pharmacan,” Piper mused. “I’ve heard of them. They had a bunch of protestors that tried to torch one of the buildings. Animal cruelty or something?”

“Yeah, that and environmental issues. Some of our scientists do work in the Amazon, isolating herbs. The activists don’t want anything messing with ‘nature.’ They’re afraid scientists in the Amazon will bring machines and destruction. Development. Anyway, it’s not something I have to deal with. I don’t go to the labs. I pick my stuff up at a business office.”

“But you guys are trying to cure cancer. Surely even activists can see the value in that.”

Mitch shrugged. “They don’t really like humans all that much, so they would just as soon most of us die of something sooner rather than later.” Not really caring to sit around and talk about his job on a weekend, Mitch changed the subject. “You wanna dance?”

Though not really enthused at the prospect, Piper nonetheless followed the young man into the throng of dancers. She pushed her insecurities aside, determined to enjoy Mitch’s company if she could figure out how. Piper now realized that Mitch didn’t seem affronted specifically at her, just generally at everyone and all life. Seems a sad state of existence, she mused.

To Piper’s frustration, the bodies on the dance floor pulsed slowly to the music, even when its tempo sped to near frantic speeds. The lethargy more than anything drove her crazy. She tended to move quickly as a rule, pressed forward by an energy and excitement for life in general. By the time she finished processing her thoughts, the quartet of new friends had found themselves close to the speakers, and conversation became impossible. After half an hour of dancing, Piper felt more relaxed because the populace of the party began to loosen up, no doubt an effect of their early and voluminous alcohol consumption.

When Molly detached herself from Declan and moved back to her friend's side, the music had just picked up and begun a rapid, pulsing rhythm. Piper saw the look in Molly's eye – the wild, excited look that spoke a final lapse in self-restraint. As much as Piper would now have to work to protect her friend from the stupid decisions of her drunkenness, Piper couldn't regret that look. For a while, it meant that the two of them would run wild and give in to their giddier tendencies. Piper did not resist when Molly grabbed her hand and moved her to the edge of the dance floor.

“Bye, Mitch,” Piper called over her shoulder. “It was nice to meet you.”

Molly stopped directly on the perimeter of the crowd and leaned over to catch her breath.

“You're gonna lose your dignity if you lean over that far,” Piper giggled.

“Do you really think anyone will notice?” Molly panted.

“Declan will.”

Molly spun to take in the sight of Declan ogling her backside. “Okay,” Molly laughed. “Do really think anyone will remember tomorrow?”

At that, they both dissolved into laughter before standing up straight and letting the music and the humor draw them out of the languor of the crowd around them. They moved and jumped and threw all refinement out the window as notes bobbed and dodged among the crowd. Soon enough, their enthusiasm spread to a small circle around them, and the tenor of the crowd took on a much more energetic tone. For a little while, Piper now expected to have a good time. At least until the mass of humanity completely lost its senses from alcohol and other substances.

When all the sophistication peeled away, every party ended basically the same, and Piper found herself content to submerge herself in diversion for a couple of hours.

As Sebastian stood watching the ladies, his hopes sunk a little. They had obviously consumed their fair share of alcohol, and Sebastian regretted that he couldn't meet them under different circumstances so they could actually talk. Still, they were entertaining. They couldn't have looked more different from each other. One of them had near-pale hair and a tan that stemmed from what seemed many hours on a yacht. She hid her almost fragile frame under a mess of flowing, blue cloth that swallowed her diminutive form. The other woman, more than anything, wore a sparkle in her eye that riveted Sebastian immediately. Like the other woman, she had little of the refined in her demeanor, but she certainly possessed the ease of a wanton disregard for propriety, at least of the cultured kind. She danced with abandon, laughed with abandon, and smiled generously regardless of the tenor of the looks cast her way. Taller than her friend, she was also curvier, and the full skirt of her dress accentuated the slenderness of her waist. A green or blue shimmer of material caught the lights overhead and cast a glow on those around her almost as much as her smile did.

Some, like Sebastian, seemed to find the pair entertaining. Others rolled their jaded eyes and sought out a quieter corner from which they could seek some chemical escape from their boredom. Though he knew the impropriety, he began to wander toward them, unsure if he would introduce himself or just let himself get caught up in their childish sense of abandon. Certainly, others at the party had done the same.

Just as he set his wine glass down on a nearby table, a hand clasped his arm, and Sebastian looked up with utter shock into the face of his cousin, Luciano. Sebastian wanted to protest, but Luciano stood among a group of very blasé faces that seemed as if a protest would scandalize them far too much to consider. After an internal shudder, Sebastian managed to fake a smile.

“Luciano, what a surprise,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

Apparently, the lack of enthusiasm did not strike the little cluster of humanity as odd, and Sebastian found out why a few moments later when they introduced themselves through similarly clenched jaws. He had probably even recommended himself to the group because of his reserve. Though he restrained himself outwardly, in his mind he scoffed in disgust. Maybe they had led such easy lives that they couldn't drum up passion about anything. Certainly, they seemed to hold no appreciation for the beauty of their surroundings, but Sebastian should have expected as much after having attended too many parties in Jamestown.

As he heard the words, he wrenched back to the present.

“It's Luke,” Luciano insisted, and Sebastian startled up at his cousin's face. “Everyone, this is Sebastian.”

“Bash,” corrected Sebastian as he held his hand out to each new face in turn. Luke smirked at him with apparent judgment, so Sebastian affixed his cousin with his eyes. “So, Luke,” he emphasized the name to exaggerate its significance. “When did you move to Rhode Island? You didn't tell me you were coming to town.”

Luke plastered a mirthless smile on his face. “Oh, I don't live here. I'm visiting some associates. David here is also in hedge funds as is Pierce.” Luke indicated two impeccably-dressed men who could have passed as brothers.

Hedge funds; of course.

“You should come work for us when you graduate,” Luke teased, his eye twinkling at the unspoken implication.

“Hedge funds?” Sebastian challenged. “I pegged you as more of an information systems kind of guy, or maybe a community activist.”

To his credit, Luke did not respond with any visible acknowledgment of the jab, but Sebastian could see that he understood it.

“Hedge funds,” Luke emphasized each word. “I'm a junior partner with an energy fund, but I'm doing well so far.”

Sebastian wondered if “Luke” knew anything about the energy sector, but he didn't ask.

“My friend is here, by the way,” Luke informed Sebastian. “Remember the one I told you about? He'd really like to meet you.”

More than anything, Sebastian hated feeling like his cousin – his protector – had turned into his pursuer, even if for a nominally good cause. To confront him in such a public manner, with witnesses, and on Sebastian's turf - it communicated a power play, that Luke had sources that could affect Sebastian's life. It felt too much like a threat. Still, Sebastian loved his cousin and no doubt owed him his life.

“Of course,” Sebastian mimicked Luke's smile. “I would be happy to meet him. You want to go now?”

“Oh, I promised these guys I would show them the billiard room. Let's meet on the balcony in an hour.”

“Sounds good.”

Luke patted his cousin on the shoulder before turning his back on Sebastian and making his way most likely to the billiard room. Sebastian took a minute to gather himself. To watch his cousin mimic exactly the snobbery and refinement of the elite upper-class of New England society? It seemed as foreign on the man as his Prince George accent would have on one of his closed-teeth buddies. Even if Sebastian didn't want to join up with a government agency, he couldn't help but admire his cousin's skill. Maybe if Sebastian didn't want to go to work with Luciano, they could at least spend some time together. If Sebastian played his cards right, he might learn a thing or two from the cousin he had never recognized as brilliant, certainly not through the innocent self-absorption of his own youth.