Page 114 of Collide

Mortimer nods, satisfied. “Good.”

The butler arrives with refreshments, and for a while, the conversation shifts—Philippa’s wedding, my album, the new apartment.

For a moment, it almost feels normal.

Then, as I stand to leave, Carole reaches out, gently touching my arm.

“And Elena?”

I pause, glancing back at her.

She smiles softly. “Just…be careful. The press loves a love story, but they love a scandal more.”

The words stick with me long after I walk out the door.

The moment I step out of my father’s townhouse, I feel like I can breathe again.

But the tension doesn’t ease, her words tightening around me like a vice.

I shouldn’t be surprised—typical Mortimer. Calculated. Strategic. Turning a conversation about my career into a chess move for optics.

And Carole…she was kind. She always is. But that last comment?

“The press loves a love story, but they love a scandal more.”

The way she said it, like she knew something I didn’t—it hasn’t stopped replaying in my head.

By the time I get back to my apartment, I’m already gripping my phone, texting Riley.

Elena

Home. Bring wine. It’s a crisis.

Riley

Be there in 10. Do I need to grab ice cream too?

Elena

Probably.

Riley

I knew it.

Fifteen minutes later, Riley bursts in like she’s making a life-saving rescue, a bottle of rosé in one hand and a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough ice-cream in the other.

She takes one look at my face and sighs. “Yikes. You’ve got the I’ve beenMonty’dlook.”

I groan, flopping onto the couch. “You have no idea.”

She uncorks the wine with frank efficiency, pouring two very full glasses before plopping down next to me.

“Okay, spill. What did Daddy Dearest say this time?”

I take a deep sip before answering. “He wants me to perform at the Montgomery Annual Charity Gala.”

Riley’s brows shoot up. “Wait, seriously?”