Page 11

Crew

M y first thought as we step out of the sleek, silver four-door is that Olivia’s car is a fish-bowl. No tint. No auto lock. Dated safety features at best.

It bothers me to no end. Because if I hadn’t ridden to work on my bike, we would’ve taken my car.

I’ll remember next time , I note, but as I open Olivia’s door, I know that the night is only beginning.

Her long golden dress spills out of the car before she does, briefly meeting my eye. The look only lasts a second before the valet takes the keys.

I scan the crowd as we take the last few steps inside the country club. I’ve been to my fair share of events here, but I don’t think I’ve ever had the honor of an actual invitation. A fact made apparent because as soon as we step inside, someone thrusts an arm in front of us.

I block Olivia from view, gripping the person’s arm with enough force that they glare. The woman clears her throat, looking down her nose at me despite being a good foot shorter.

“Excuse me, Sir. Do you have an invitation?”

“I do.” Olivia intervenes. The woman’s gray, nearly silver, eyes drop to Olivia who offers a glittering piece of gold parchment. “And he’s with me.”

“Does he-“

“He’s with me,” Olivia repeats. “My plus-one.” The woman’s eyes slide to me again, and despite having security clearance and easily being able to get inside, watching this preening woman open the invitation and read ‘ Olivia Hughes + 1 ’ is much more satisfying.

From what Olivia told me, tonight’s an auction benefiting some vague good cause . Most of those in attendance probably don’t know what it’s for either.

I smirk, dropping the woman’s arm. “Is there a problem?”

“Just wouldn’t want to let in any of the riff-raff.” She flashes a saccharin smile, flipping the invitation back toward us. “Enjoy the party, Ms. Hughes.”

She shoulder checks me as she passes, and I smile at the reaction. On a normal day, I’m exactly the kind of riff-raff she’d want to keep out.

The rich can smell blood in the water.

Olivia huffs as we stroll further inside where light reflects off the mosaic wall tiles, painting the dome ceiling in Westlan red. An event like this is usually crawling with security. I notice there’s at least six guards posted around the room, but Olivia is the only one with a private detail. And it’s noticeable. People watch as we pass.

“Is everyone here always so intense?” she laughs under her breath.

“Isn’t this your scene?” I say, hiding my surprise.

The country club seems like just the place she might find solace. If I recall, this is where Olivia and Charlotte often met before things went down. Any pretty girl with money would kill to be in her place, but she doesn’t respond for a long moment.

“You make it sound like I’m a princess.” The name does seem fitting, but the comment makes me look at her. As we stroll toward the ballroom, I don’t have much time to read her expression. “I’ve never felt so out of place.”

“What do you mean by that?”

She grabs a glass of punch from a passing waiter before peering up at me. “It means I should’ve worn designer.”

I don’t have enough time to evaluate the words before a familiar face appears from the crowd. Her face brightens.

“Aleksander Benenati. Didn’t think we’d be seeing each other again so soon.”

So soon?

Aleks grins, white teeth flashing. “Olivia Hughes. Still as stunning as ever, I see.”

Olivia laughs as he pulls her in for a hug. “Enjoying the party?”

They converse for a few moments. Despite being Skar’s kid brother, Aleks’ blond hair is easily one of the most identifiable things about him. That and his distinctive silver cane make him one of the better known socialites tonight.

His attention shifts to me. “Warden! I didn’t know you were working for the Hughes.”

I cock a smile, reaching for a hug. “Hey, Kid.”

“ Kid, ” he laughs, knowing we’ll never let him live down the fact that he’s more than ten years Skar’s junior. “Hey, you met Sofia, right?”

A dark-haired woman in blue appears from behind us, taking Aleks’ arm as she curtsies in introduction. “Sofia Vercelli. I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure.”

I already knew from visiting Viserion that he proposed to someone, but this is my first time meeting her. A warning bell goes off somewhere in my head as Sofia shakes my hand.

“Crew Warden.”

Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve never heard of her before. Or maybe I’m still protective of Aleks, but I usually make it a point to know everyone... yet I haven't the slightest clue who she is.

“Crew,” Sofia’s voice is sugary-sweet. Sweet enough that Aleks is eating it up, but Sofia’s eyes drift toward Olivia. “It’s good to see you again, Liv.”

They’ve met .

I carefully watch the three interact.

“We’ll set up that new intake appointment soon, but I believe…” Olivia nudges me, directing my eye toward Harvey a few tables over. “That’s my father. If you’ll excuse us…” She waves goodbye.

With a clap of Aleks’ shoulder and one last look at Sofia, who smiles, I follow.

“Dad!” Olivia calls, and when he hears her, he breaks out in a smile.

“Hi, Button. Enjoying yourself?”

“This is beautiful, Dad… She would love it.”

She . Harvey squeezes his daughter’s shoulder, a sudden wave of quiet falling over them. Harvey sniffs, hugging her before smiling.

I can see through it now- his masks . His lies. Part of me wonders whether Olivia can too.

“Just wait until the auction.” Harvey loudly claps his hands together. “That’s when the real fun begins.” He reaches for a handshake, his grip firm. “Mr. Warden. I assume everything’s going well?”

“Yes, Sir. Getting settled in just fine.”

Harvey gives a curt nod in dismissal. “I’ll expect that check-in soon then.”

He saddles up with another group to talk to for the night, and I almost think Olivia might go after him. Almost. Her shoulders slump, but she clears her throat.

“You up for a drink then, Warden?”

She asks as if I’m not on the clock, and I smile the tiniest bit.

“Not likely, Ms. Hughes.”

At the far side of the ballroom, there’s an open bar with a line of patrons. Almost everyone has a glass of wine or a bubbly, but Olivia discards her empty glass for a glass of lemonade.

Interesting , I note.

She leans against the bar, watching the crowd curiously as I stand behind her. My eyes catch on one of the programs someone’s using as a coaster:

The Elizabeth Hughes Foundation presents Sutton’s 5th annual Silent Auction.

It clicks into place. This event isn’t for work. It’s honoring Olivia’s mother- a woman I’ve only heard brief stories about since her passing.

A tear glimmers as it trails down Olivia’s cheek, and my back tenses as she wipes it away. I know grief when I see it.

I know it all too well.

She must catch me looking because she smiles, blinking away any indication she might be affected.

“You know,” she begins. “I might be crazy, but since we walked over, everyone’s cleared out of the bar.”

She’s not wrong. Almost everyone has taken one look at us and not bothered getting closer. Makes my job easier.

When I don’t say anything, she shakes her head, teasing, “Someone told me once that smiling makes you seem friendly. It can even make you feel happy.”

“Friendly isn’t my prerogative tonight.”

She cocks a grin. “Just stick to brooding and glaring then.”

She’s trying to get a reaction.

So don’t give it to her , reason begs.

I don’t know why I feel the need to explain myself, but I do anyway, still watching the crowd. “It’s not my job to be friendly with these people. They’re not my client. And even if there were…” I drag my attention away from a rather drunken couple swaying on the dance floor. “I’m not known for being nice and making conversation.”

She swallows, meeting my eye for all of a moment before chuckling and glancing away. “Are you always this cheery?”

“Happy to oblige, Ms. Hughes.”

“If you scare everyone away, I’m going to start taking it personally,” she mumbles before standing a little straighter as someone approaches.

“Are you Olivia?” a man asks. His eyes drag over her body first. Then her face. The appraisal is swift, and while it wouldn’t normally be a slight, I don’t like the satisfied look on his face.

“I am.”

“My name is Chase. I’m an associate of your father’s, and I thought I’d introduce myself.” He extends a hand, kissing her knuckles as she smiles.

“How long have you worked together? I don’t think we’ve met.”

His face is vaguely familiar. I’m sure I’ve seen him around at events before, but I can’t quite place where else I might know him from.

“I’m relatively new- you wouldn’t have.”

“Are you participating in the auction?”

“Something is sure to catch my eye.” He grins as he says it, and when she blinks at the insinuation behind his words, I’m close to stepping in until I remember what she just told me.

Back off.

She beats me to the punch anyway. “Mhmm. It’s for a good cause, so… Anyways. It’s nice to meet you. See you around.” With that, she walks right past him.

I try to hide my surprise.

Seems like she can handle herself fine .

As we cross the dance floor, a voice sound out over the orchestra, silencing the party:

“Good evening! I hope everyone has had plenty of time to look around at some of the wonderful donations curated for tonight’s event.”

The man clears his throat, adjusting his microphone. “There is no greater cause than to help those affected by the reckless actions of others. In honor of Elizabeth Hughes, a pillar and founding member of our community here, it’s with great pleasure that I announce the winners of our silent auction. I believe Harvey and Olivia, Elizabeth’s husband and daughter, are here tonight.”

The audience erupts in a roar of clapping and cheering, and almost everyone turns to look at Harvey as the spotlight finds him. He lifts his drink in a toast as the audience hollers. Then the spotlight swings towards Olivia. She flushes under the attention as everyone turns, clapping for her.

“As you all know, ten fine ladies offered up a single date as part of our event. I will announce each name and their associated winner, and then we’ll move on to the next round. To start…” The audience shifts their attention toward the announcer, quiet with anticipation. “Angela Ortega… and Bradley St. James!”

Polite applause fills the room, but I keep my eye on the crowd as the next name is called. “Sofia Vercelli… and Aleksander Benenati!”

My eyes find the couple, and I notice that Aleks beams as he looks down at her. I still don't quite know what to make of them. She waves at the onslaught of attention, clapping as the auctioneer lists several more pairs.

“Olivia Hughes,” he calls, and my attention snaps toward the stage. “And Chase Sutherland!”

Olivia’s back is pin-straight, and even when everyone looks to her with congratulations, her smile is tight. Forced. Surprised.

“Shit,” she mumbles, and it hits me that she doesn’t know what’s happening. She must have the same thought I do because her eyes swing to her father, who whistles and claps as he lifts his drink again.

Even as the auctioneer moves onto the next awards, my eyes scan the crowd before I spot the man who just introduced himself. Chase Sutherland. Then it hits me that I distinctly remember his father, Keith, attending Skar’s wedding last year.

Even though Olivia doesn’t look in his direction, he catches me looking, a cocky smirk playing on his face as he looks toward her again.

My gut tells me there’s something deeper going on here. I make it a point to look into him more.