Page 16 of Pretty Broken Doll

Shilo

“ W hy do I even have to go to this stupid thing?”

“It’s not stupid, Shilo.” Paige throws me an exasperated glance as she leads me down a hall lined with Christmas trees toward CalTek’s ballroom.

Yeah. CalTek has a frickin’ ballroom. They only use it for special occasions, though, like tonight. Not only is this the annual company Christmas party, but they’ve also combined it with a charity event, so the place is packed. The dress code is also black tie required. Which, according to Paige, means I had to wear a tuxedo.

I don’t even own a tuxedo. I wasn’t even going to come, but for whatever reason, Ronin Callahan sent out an email declaring that all employees were required to attend. So here I am—dressed in a rented tux that cost way too much, my hair half up and combed out of my face. I hate it.

Mom loves it, though. She took so many pictures that I was embarrassed, all teary-eyed because I never got to go to prom. It would have been a nice moment if Dad hadn’t ruined it by asking why I didn’t have a date. Maybe I should have asked Tina since KC is bringing Carpenter, but I didn’t think about it until just now.

“There’s a rumor going ’round that Ronin is making some kind of announcement tonight.” My sister stops before a pair of double doors thrown open to reveal an ornately decorated space within. From this vantage point, I can see giant glowing ice sculptures and a lit-up tree that’s gotta be at least twenty feet tall. There’s violinists, too, and caterers running around with trays of champagne. Jeez.

Declan appears out of nowhere, deep red tie matching Paige’s evening gown, and he sweeps her into his arms before kissing her lips. “Well, don’t you look ravishing, my dear.”

She giggles and I gag, which earns me a laugh as he reaches out to bump my fist.

“You look great, too, Shilo. Love the bow tie.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, shuffling awkwardly on my feet. It’s purple, like my hair. And my nails.

Paige links an arm with each of us, putting herself in the middle as she strides into the ballroom on six-inch heels. “Come on, boys, let’s get this show on the road. I need some rum cake.”

Round tables draped in dark blue cloths fill one side of the room, accompanied by a bar and walls lined with food. Overhead, the largest chandelier I’ve ever seen glitters, its ropes of crystal cascading like frozen snowflakes. My eyes find KC immediately—he’s impossible to miss in a bright pink tuxedo. Where did he even find something like that, anyway? Carpenter stands next to him, sporting a matching tie and an irritated expression, arms crossed. They both wave when they spot me.

“Gonna go see my friends,” I whisper to Paige, ignoring the relieved smile on her face as I take off. She and Mom have been ecstatic that I’ve been getting out of the house, but I wish they wouldn’t be so obvious about it.

“God, you look sexy.” KC kisses my cheek, which I wipe off. “And you even match with Ry. Did you both plan that?”

Frowning, I sweep my gaze across the room in search of Ryann. “Huh? No, have you seen him?”

“Like five minutes ago with his date.”

Date? My heart plummets to the floor.

It’s been seven days since I fell asleep in his bed, and I haven’t heard from him since. The morning after we had sex, I’d woken up practically on top of him, and we’d humped each other while making out. He ended up pushing my head down to come in my mouth before forcing me to eat breakfast and then drove me back to my car. It was stupid because, despite myself, I’d been hoping he would text me afterward, but he didn’t. I wasn’t even surprised. Kind of expected it.

But a date?

My stomach roils.

Carpenter snags a glass of champagne from a nearby server, flagging down another one carrying a tray of hors d’oeuvres. “Your guys’ job is awesome. Where do I apply?”

“That’s the fifth crab cake you’ve stuffed your face with since we got here,” KC protests in disgust, and his roommate grins with a full mouth.

“Yeah, cuz they’re delicious. You should try the cheese balls.”

Rolling his eyes dramatically, KC turns to me. “I wasn’t even going to bring him. Why did I bring him, Shilo?”

“Because you love me,” Carpenter grunts, zeroing in on the dessert table.

The two of them bicker back and forth while I morph into a wallflower, leaning back to watch the party unfold. Everyone’s laughing, drinking, merry and bright, but I feel…alone. Outcast. They all have their special person tonight, but I’m personless. Not for the first time, I wonder why I have difficulty connecting with people. Wishing my brain wasn’t broken. Wishing I was normal.

“Here, try this.” Carpenter’s fingers shove something sweet into my mouth, ruining my wallowing, and I glare at him as I chew on the sticky substance.

“W’th hell?”

He wiggles his brows. “Good, right? It’s butter mochi. Now try this one.”

As soon as I swallow, he pries my mouth open again with some kind of cherry chocolate truffle, placing it on my tongue. The explosion of flavor causes an involuntary moan to leave my throat.

And, of course, Ryann chooses that exact moment to make his presence known as his familiar scent fills my nostrils.

“Evening.”

My eyes snap up to where he’s gazing down at me with a raised brow, looking suave as hell in a tux that probably cost a few thousand dollars. KC smirks at me, and that’s when I realize that Carpenter’s fingers are still in my mouth. Panicking, I do the only thing my anxious brain can think of.

I bite down.

“Ow, motherfuck!”

“H-hi, Mr. Callahan,” I stammer as I swallow the treat, licking its sweetness from my lips.

Ryann briefly catches the movement before turning his attention to Carpenter, who’s shaking out his fingers with a grimace. “Are you alright?”

KC snorts. “He’s fine, ignore him. Who’s your date, Ry?”

With a jolt, I notice that someone is standing next to him. A tall someone. With long, luscious auburn curls and an hourglass figure. A very, very feminine figure.

My face twists in confusion as the woman’s perfectly painted smile lights up the room. She extends her hand to KC, her voice dripping with charm. “Hello, nice to meet you. I’m Olivia. Ryann’s girlfriend.”

His…

Wait.

KC’s delicate brows slam together. “I’m sorry, I think I might have misheard. Did you just say that you’re Ryann’s girlfriend? ”

Her sparkling blue eyes tighten in uncertainty as she tilts her head. “Yes, that’s what I said.”

A strangled noise escapes the back of my throat like I’ve just been sucker-punched. Whatever they say next is drowned out by the roaring in my ears. I feel someone’s gaze on me, his gaze, but all I can focus on is the sweat gathering on my nape as my vision swims, a suffocating heat surging through me. The hors d’oeuvres in my stomach turn to lead.

Stupid, stupid Shilo. Thrown to the curb again.

“S’cuse me,” I mumble, swallowing bile as I spin on my heel and bolt.

Someone calls after me, but I don’t stop. Shoving through the crowd, I ignore the sting in my eyes as I push toward the courtyard doors. Cold air bites at my skin when I burst outside, the cheerful glow of Christmas lights mocking me. Hunching over, I wrap my arms around myself and fight the urge to vomit. If I had any idea where the bathroom was, I’d probably be there already.

A few people linger nearby, snapping photos in front of a decorated fountain, but none of them spare me a glance when I collapse onto the fountain’s ledge, scowling at my reflection in the water. No matter what I do—no matter how much I change—I still can’t stand the sight of myself.

In the murky depths, another face suddenly joins mine, hazel eyes I know all too well pinched with concern.

“Shilo,” Ryann says quietly. “Let me explain.”

I can’t bring myself to look at him directly, so I glare at his reflection instead. “I thought you were gay.”

He sighs heavily. “I am.”

“Then what the hell ?”

He glances over his shoulder before reaching out, his hand brushing my arm. “Let’s talk somewhere quieter.”

“Don’t touch me,” I mutter, shoving his hand away as I stand. Without looking back, I march toward a weeping willow at the courtyard’s edge. Behind me, I hear the soft sound of his suede shoes tapping against the concrete as he follows.

Once beneath the sweeping branches, I cross my arms tightly and put as much space between us as I can, shivering against the biting breeze. It’s dark here, the shadows swallowing Ryann’s face as he watches me with his hands shoved into his pockets. Seething silently, I wait for him to speak.

“You’ve heard of AVA, right?” He asks, the question catching me off guard. I nod slowly, my chest tightening at the thought of how he named it after his mother.

“The program wasn’t originally ours,” he continues. “Another tech company owns it. My father signed a contract with their CEO to acquire the rights.”

“What does this have to do with anything?”

His tone hardens. “Ronin isn’t just trying to buy the rights to AVA. He wants the whole damn company. And to make the merger go smoothly, he expects me to… woo the CEO. Hence, Olivia.”

My nose wrinkles as I squint at him. “Woo?”

“Charm her. Take her on dates. Get into her good graces. Whatever you want to call it.”

“That sounds archaic as hell,” I say slowly, letting his words sink in. “Last I checked, this is the twenty-first century. You can say no.”

He lifts a brow at that. “Just like you can say no to hunting with your father?”

My lips smack in irritation. “That’s different.”

“How so?”

“Because I’m just a broke college kid, and you’re…” I gesture at him, my hand flailing vaguely. “You’re you.”

A bitter laugh escapes him. “Exactly. I’m me. Ryann Callahan, heir to one of the richest men on the West Coast and future CEO of his company. We all have roles to play, Shilo.”

Another chilly gust sneaks through the branches, and I lick my lips, exhaling a puff of visible breath. His words from Thanksgiving echo in my mind. “So, what, then? You’re just expected to… date her until she hands over the tech your dad wants? Even though you don’t like her?”

“In a nutshell, yes,” he admits, unbuttoning his tux jacket and stepping closer. He drapes it over my shoulders, enveloping me in his warmth. “Did you know my mother and father didn’t even meet until their wedding day? Arrangements like this aren’t as common in the States, but they’re still practiced in other countries. Especially among the wealthy.”

“But what about your brother and my sister? They’re together by choice.”

He sighs, his golden-green eyes sad as his hands rest gently on my shoulders. “Declan and I are close now, but it wasn’t always that way. When we immigrated here, my mother left and took him with her. We were raised apart until our teens. Dec doesn’t have the responsibilities I do.”

That explains a lot, honestly. Sweet, smiley Declan and stone-cold Ryann—polar opposites. My chest tightens for them both. Was Ryann’s mother not part of his life at all?

“But you’re twins,” I press, still struggling to understand. “Shouldn’t the same rules apply to both of you?”

“It’d make my life a hell of a lot easier if they did. But no.”

“Well…” My voice trails off as I glance through the willow branches toward the glowing ballroom. “What does this mean for us?”

Heavy silence stretches between us. I don’t dare look at him until his hands slip from my shoulders as he takes a step back.

“You made it clear on Thanksgiving,” he says softly, “that there would be no us .”

“Yeah, but—“ The words catch in my throat. But then you let me sleep in your bed. “I thought things changed.”

I thought you cared about me.

Ryann runs a hand through his hair, leaving it disheveled, before crossing his arms. His white shirt stretches over his biceps, and I hate how distracting it is. “You told me you couldn’t keep feelings out of the equation.”

“And what about her?” I scoff angrily, my face heating with embarrassment. “Is this… whatever you have with her just going to be casual, too?”

“It’s complicated.” His voice is flat, lifeless—like he’s already given up. No emotion, no fight. Just cold resignation. He’s like a robot following orders, and I suddenly feel ridiculous for even caring. When he mutters a half-hearted apology, I can’t take it anymore.

Shoving his jacket into his arms, I turn and run back inside, ignoring him when he calls after me, the weight of his indifference leaving me hollow.

Inside, Carpenter stands next to Declan, a glass of champagne in hand. I march right up to him and snatch it away without a word.

“Hey, Shilo, you wouldn’t believe what—oh, okay.” Carpenter stops mid-sentence, raising a brow as I down the entire glass in one go. He shares a glance with KC, who leans in, his eyes flicking toward the door behind me.

“Ry just came in through the same door you did. What’s up? What happened?”

I shake my head, not in the mood to talk, and grab KC’s drink, draining that one too.

I’ve never been much of a drinker, but there’s a first time for everything, I guess.

“Slow down, Igs. You’re going to make yourself sick.”

Maybe that’s the point.

Ignoring my sister’s warning, I wipe my mouth and turn just in time to see Ryann cross the room. He pauses next to what’s-her-face, leaning in to whisper something at her ear, his lips so close to her skin it makes my stomach churn. His hand rests lightly on her hip as he gives her a small smile.

And I hate—absolutely hate —that I wish I were her.

Don’t even know who she is and I’m jealous. It’s not right.

I’m about to tell Paige I’m leaving when a ripple of hushed whispers rolls through the ballroom. Heads swivel toward the back, where an older, strikingly handsome man steps inside with a young woman on his arm. His features hit me immediately—high cheekbones, full lips, and those piercing hazel eyes. My stomach knots as Paige grabs my wrist.

“That’s Ronin Callahan,” she hisses, tugging me forward. “Let’s go say hi.”

“No, wait—“

Too late. Against my will, I’m yanked through the crowd and deposited in front of the man who raised Ryann.

I don’t know if it’s the champagne buzzing through my veins or the memory of our heated conversation outside, but a swell of hatred has me glaring when I meet his gaze.

“Mr. Callahan, hello,” Paige chirps brightly. “This is my little brother, Shilo. He just started a few months ago.”

“Ah yes, the intern.” Ronin extends a hand with a tight smile that’s unnervingly like his son’s. “Nice to meet you, Shilo.”

There’s something condescending in his tone, like the introduction is a chore. I don’t realize I’m scowling at his outstretched hand until Paige elbows me sharply in the ribs.

Reluctantly, I grab it, muttering, “How do you do?”

But he’s already moving on, parting the crowd like frickin’ Moses, heading straight for Ryann and his… whatever she is. It doesn’t escape my notice that he doesn’t even glance in Declan’s direction.

“Well, that went well,” Paige murmurs dryly. She tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear before turning back to her boyfriend, oblivious to the storm brewing in my chest.

With a huff, I grab another glass of champagne out of Carpenter’s hand.

“Dude,” he groans, throwing his arms in the air. “First, you bite me, and now you’re stealing all my drinks? Why do you hate me?”

I ignore him, slurping down the bubbly liquid as I watch Ronin wave and shake hands like a celebrity. He treats his employees well, though, so I guess he probably seems like one to them. Not to me, though. Never even met him before today, and I already hate him.

I shouldn’t have come tonight. Should have faked sick, pretended to be busy, taken Mom’s car and left town. Joined the circus. The way that woman grins at Ryann like he hung the moon makes me want to scoop my eyes out.

KC suddenly grabs my arm, prying the glass from my fingers before dragging me away. “Come on, let’s dance.”

“Kansas, no one else is dancing. What are you doing?”

“Getting you away from nosy ears so we can talk.”

That makes me snort—the concept of ears having noses. I’m feeling pretty good thanks to the alcohol, so I let him steer me to the middle of the room where he wraps his arms around my shoulders.

“Okay, so spill the tea.” He leans close, whispering in my ear, smelling like freshly baked cookies. “What did Ryann say?”

“Say about what?” Honestly, he smells like banana bread. It reminds me of my grandma back in Idaho, and I love her, so I inhale deep.

“Jesus, Shilo, stop sniffing me and pay attention. We both know that man is the furthest thing from straight, so why is he pretending to have a girlfriend?”

My brows furrow as I squint at him with blurry vision. “Why do you think he’s pretending?”

KC rolls his eyes so far back that I’m surprised they don’t stick there. “Did you not hear what I just said? Ryann loves dick, Shilo, and there’s no way he’d suddenly give it up.”

Mm, dick. Me too. Ryann’s dick. Ugh.

“Maybe he would,” I mumble, suddenly sad and horny, but KC shakes his head.

“Something’s going on, I think. Maybe with his dad. They have a bad relationship.”

A scoff leaves my lips as I snag another champagne from a passing server. “Ryann doesn’t do relationships, he says.”

“My point exactly.”

Hey, wait…yeah, he’s right.

Maybe it’s not that he doesn’t do relationships, he just doesn’t do them with me .

My gaze finds him immediately, still standing with his date as he introduces her around. I take in the fancy dress she’s wearing and the pricey-looking jewelry. She seems refined and classy. Confident. Basically, everything my anxious ass isn’t. Is that the type of person he’s looking to spend his life with? Someone he’s proud to have at his side?

“You’re worse than Carpenter, swear to God.” KC wrenches the glass away before I can drain it all, and I toss him a glare that he returns in earnest. “Don’t give me that sass, blue eyes. I’m trying to collude here.”

And I’m trying to get drunk. Other than that night at Kintsugi, I’ve never drank before, and it seems like an excellent way to cope with my problems right now. It’s not healthy, but whatever.

Ducking out of KC’s arms, I slip into the crowd, chasing after another server for more champagne. Whether he lets me go on purpose or loses track of me, I don’t care. I slink into a dark corner behind the stage and start drinking, eyes glued to Ryann like a creep. Only when my glass is empty do I emerge from my hidey hole, grabbing more champagne before retreating again.

The party unfolds around me, everyone participating in a raffle and charity toy drive. By the time it all ends, prizes given out, I’ve probably drank too much.

No, scratch that, I’ve definitely drank too much because everything feels floaty? But I’m also increasingly irritated because Ryann hasn’t turned his attention away from Oli-whatsherface this entire time. Not once has he glanced up to look for me or expressed concern for my whereabouts, unlike Paige and Carpenter, who I had to dodge when I snuck out for another glass.

It’s not fair. I want his eyes on me. I want him to smile at me and touch me in public like he does in private, but what we have will never be public. He’ll never show me off proudly. The woman at his side laughs at something he said, a full-bodied sound that’s probably really sexy. Ryann doesn’t laugh with her, but there’s a small, satisfied tilt to his lips as she gestures animatedly. Like he’s enjoying their conversation. Maybe a little too much…

I want to make him angry. Get him so pissed off that he can’t enjoy his night, that’s what I need to do. But how?

Scanning the room, my eyes land on my sister. She’s standing with Declan, her purse slung over her shoulder. An idea, stupid and impulsive, pops into my head. It’s not like me at all, but I’m going to blame the alcohol for this one, because right now I could not care less.

I weave through the crowd, my heart thumping as I reach Paige. She’s too busy shoveling cake into her mouth to notice me until I’m right in front of her.

“Jesus Christ, Iggy,” she chokes, jolting in surprise. “We’ve been looking for you! Where have you been?”

“Not feeling good,” I lie, clutching my stomach for effect. “Can I grab the Tums from your purse?”

“Told you that you’d make yourself sick,” she sighs, holding out her bag without question before returning to some conversation I don’t care to be a part of.

Reaching inside, I grab what I’m really after before sneaking off like a thief in the night, snickering at the stunt I’m about to pull.