With his family out for the day, Frankie finally had the house to himself. He sat in his favorite chair, mindlessly scrolling, when the doorbell rang. The sound was unusual as family and close friends never bothered with it. Curious, he quickly walked to the front door. Andrea Hallett stood on the porch, looking effortlessly composed in a simple pink and white dress that showed her flawless skin and complimented her figure just enough to be intentional. A gentle smile curved her peach lips.

“Hi, Frank,” she said warmly. “Are you busy? I was really hoping I could talk to you.”

Frankie hesitated. “Uh…no, not really. What do you want to talk about?” “Could we talk inside?” She shifted her weight, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I walked all the way here from the bus stop, and my legs are killing me.” He stepped aside. “Yeah, sure. Come in.” Andrea crossed the threshold, her eyes sweeping over the living room with quiet approval before drifting toward his open bedroom door. “Your house is lovely. Is that your room?”

Frankie moved quickly, closing the door before she could try to go in. “Uh, it’s a mess right now. Let’s just sit on the sofa.”

Andrea’s smile turned knowing, but she didn’t push. She settled gracefully onto the couch and patted the cushion beside her. Frankie sat, careful to leave a respectable gap between them. “I wanted to talk to you about the Ivory Ball,” she began, voice smooth as silk. “You’re on the welcoming committee, so I know you’ll be surrounded by girls all night. I figured I’d get to you first.” She tilted her head, eyes sparkling with playful confidence. “I’d love to have a dance or two saved on my card. Just for you.”

It sounded sweet. Almost innocent. But having been raised by the most famous mistress in the city, Frankie knew better. He forced a polite smile. “Sure, Andrea. I’ll dance with you.”

Her smile deepened, pleased. She slid closer, resting a hand lightly on his thigh as she leaned in. The scent of her warm, expensive-smelling perfume wrapped around him like a silk noose.

“My parents are letting me attend the after-party this year,” she said softly. “I’d love for you to be there.” Frankie’s pulse jumped. He’d heard the stories about the Hallett after-parties at the notorious X building: skin, secrets, and zero inhibitions. His brother Ian never missed one and would always tell Frankie unsolicited tales of the debauchery that took place there.

The X only opened twice a year: once for the Halletts’ legendary event, and again towards the end of the year for the companion houses to showcase their finest.

“I’ll…think about it,” he managed, swallowing hard. “Thanks for the invite.” Andrea's thumb began to run soft circles on his thigh where her hand lightly rested. “If there's anything that I can do to persuade you to come, you can tell me.”

The front doors suddenly swung open. Frankie shot to his feet as his father stepped inside with his brothers. Lorenzo and Sal froze at the sight of Andrea on the couch. “Dad,” Frankie said quickly, “this is uh…Andrea Hallett. Andrea, this is my dad and my brothers Lorenzo and Sal. Andrea stopped by to invite me to their after-party.” Andrea smiled, all sweetness and charm. “Mr. Garrett, my parents asked me to personally invite you and Mrs. Garrett as well. They’d be delighted if you could join us.” Greg Garrett offered a polite nod. “That’s very kind. Please thank them for us.” “Of course.” Andrea turned back to Frankie, giving him one last lingering, promising look. “I should go. It was lovely meeting you all.”

Once the door closed behind her, Lorenzo immediately turned on his brother.“Is Andrea Hallett your girlfriend now?” Sal didn’t miss a beat. “Mrs. Rayburn called her a ‘Lolita.’ Dad, what’s a Lolita?” Frankie exhaled sharply and answered before Greg could. “A prepubescent succubus, that's what. Girls like that are trouble.”

Greg chuckled, shaking his head as he headed toward the kitchen.

Frankie stayed rooted in place, already wondering how the hell he was going to explain Andrea's visit to Daria.