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�Arkin, I'd like for you to meet Whitney. Whitney, this is Arkin, an old friend,� he announced with a warm smile.
Arkin smiled brightly and nodded. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Whitney.�
�Is Ryon Maxwell here yet?� Brent asked curiously.
�No, not yet,� Arkin replied. Brent's friend then checked her over once more. His smile was too admiring.
Whitney glanced at the grandfather clock. Her friends were already meeting the rebel leader and here she was meeting a bunch of assholes.
�When you see him, tell him I need to speak to him about business,� Brent said simply.
�Business at a party? You're sad Brent. You must bore this lovely, young creature,� Arkin announced while extending his smile to Whitney. �May I dance with her?�
�That's up to Whitney,� Brent informed him simply.
Whitney smiled gently. �Yes, thank you.�
Brent rolled his eyes slightly at her politeness. He then smiled. �Perhaps you could tell her all about the security system you have, and why it�d be impossible for her to attempt to leave without me.�
Arkin chuckled lowly. �I�ll do that.�
Whitney frowned. They walked onto the dance floor together and danced a slow song. Arkin danced a comfortable distance apart from Whitney and made some small talk. Whitney slipped into her own thoughts. She remembered a time before this damned takeover when she would go out dancing with Nadine and just have some innocent fun. For Brent Valdemar it was business as usual before and during the takeover. Whitney had little time for fun since the rebellion started. Now her idea of having a good time was destroying alien crafts. It all seemed kind of depressing to her. Once the dance was over, she slipped away from Arkin and checked out the punch bowl. A woman approached the table and Whitney.
�Boring party, don't you think?� the woman asked with a timid, drunken smile.
Whitney forced a smile and nodded. She then tried the drink. It was fairly strong.
�You should do what I do to survive one of these parties,� the woman announced.
�What's that?� Whitney asked curiously.
�Get loaded. These things seem so much more interesting when I'm drunk. Once I'm tipsy enough, my husband decides to leave early also.�
Whitney raised her brows. �It�s worth a shot.� She drained the glass of its contents.
The woman dipped Whitney another glass of punch, handed it to her, then motioned for her to follow. Whitney took her drink and followed the woman out to the patio. They found a seat by the poolside at one of the tables.
�I like to watch the lights dance on the water,� the woman remarked simply.
Whitney knew this woman had one too many already. The woman glanced at Whitney and smiled lightly.
�I saw you come with Brent Valdemar. I don't understand why you aren't all over that man,� she said. �I wish my husband were half as good looking.� She giggled. �By the way, I�m Alicia.�
�Whitney.�
�So what's the story, Whitney?� Alicia asked.
�I�m here against my will.� Whitney frowned. �As a matter-of-fact, I�m staying with Brent against my will.�
�I can�t imagine anyone being forced to stay with Brent,� Alicia said with a seductive smile. �Quite a catch, if you ask me.�
�Brent and I can�t stand each other,� Whitney informed her.
�Why�s that? Why don�t you like Brent?� Alicia asked.
�It�s a long story.�
�Couldn�t be much of a story to turn me away from him,� Alicia replied with a devious smile. �Have you ever looked at him? He�s gorgeous.�
�He�s an underhanded, lying snake,� Whitney snapped.
The woman had the waitress refill their drinks several times throughout the evening. They drank and talked for the longest time. Alicia was a very lonely woman--it was evident from their conversations. It was around ten o'clock in the evening when Brent walked onto the patio. He walked toward the small poolside table where they sat. Brent paused near the two women. He smiled charmingly at Alicia.
�Good evening, Mrs. Nameth, it's a pleasure to see you again,� Brent announced pleasantly.
Alicia looked at him and smiled drunkenly. �Ah, Brent--I was just having the most wonderful conversation with Whitney. Charming girl. I hope you bring her back with you again next time.�
Brent forced a smile. �I�m glad the two of you are getting along.� He looked at Whitney. �There are some people I�d like you to meet.�
Whitney had been drinking steadily since she met with Alicia and was feeling fairly well by now. She attempted to stand but fell back into the chair. Brent's smile faded when he realized what condition she was in, but he didn't say a word. Both women suddenly burst out laughing. Brent stood over her. He didn�t appear amused. Whitney extended her hand to him. He slowly accepted her hand and helped her to her feet. She felt slightly off balance and wearing high heels didn't help much in her current state. She linked onto Brent's arm even though she didn't want too, but it was the only way she would be able to walk even partially straight.
Brent guided Whitney into the ballroom and toward a group of men. All four men glanced at them as they approached. Brent managed to force a smile.
�Whitney, this is Ryon Maxwell, Gene Noxworth, and Blain Karinus. Gentlemen, this is Whitney Prentice,� Brent announced with a tiny smile.
She smiled in a drunken manner but immediately took on a sober attitude. �It's a pleasure.�
Ryon smiled warmly toward Whitney but spoke to Brent. �Would you mind if I asked Whitney for a dance?�
Brent attempted to smile. �I really don't think that�s a good idea.�
Whitney pulled away from Brent. �Don't be such an old poop.� She linked onto Ryon's arm. He escorted her out to the dance floor with a pleasant smile. The man was in his early forties, so he must have been a business associate of Brent's, but he seemed nice enough. She danced the slow song with him. Whitney became a little concerned when he held her close during the dance. He then spoke softly in her ear.
�It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Whitney,� Ryon announced softly. �Your friends told me you�d be here. Your courage is admirable.�
Whitney's heart suddenly skipped a beat and she quickly looked him in the eyes. �I don't know what you're talking about.�
�Your work--with the rebellion,� he whispered softly.
