Page 21 of The Consequence of You (Heathley Academy #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

ASHER

C hrist this is dull. Even more so than the usual high society, charity functions I’m forced to attend.

At least most of those have decent food and entertainment.

Father was asked to attend the opening of a new exhibition at an art gallery on the far side of town, and as such, Mother had requested that both Sebastian and I attend.

Our presence is required until we have at least watched the duke cut the ribbon.

Until then, we’re expected to fulfil our dutiful role and represent the family.

For my brother, that means schmoozing, but for me, eating my body weight in canapes should suffice.

I swallow another one and consider how it can be that no matter how many you eat, they never fill you up.

The only part of the evening that’s turned out to be remotely interesting is the art itself.

Some of it is rather beautiful. It’s by a selection of local artists who, from the looks of it, are all pretty darn talented.

As I study the next piece, it occurs to me that I rarely stand still and just appreciate something for its beauty. Life is so fast-paced.

I move to the next image, just as appealing, but nothing about the two are similar.

There doesn’t appear to be any kind of formula the artist is following, and yet they both invoke a feeling of serenity.

As I flick through the booklet that accompanies the exhibition, my ears prick up at the sound of a familiar voice.

There’s no mistaking who it belongs to. The very woman who has been occupying my every waking thought lately.

I recall seeing some of her art displayed at the academy last year, so I know it’s an interest of hers.

It’s quite the stroke of luck, her being here tonight.

Unsurprisingly, she’d left me on delivered since last night and this saves me coming up with an excuse to see her again.

As I make my way over, I see she’s not alone.

She’s standing with a man I don’t recognise.

I assume it’s a new member of her security staff, as it’s not like her to court conversation at social events.

However, when I get closer, I realise he’s too young to be on her family’s staff.

He’s a similar age to us, and he’s standing far too close to be considered professional.

The stranger is tall, with dark wavy hair almost meeting his shoulders.

The quintessential Italian stallion, if you will.

I’m too far away to make out the topic of their conversation, but I can tell Callie is uncomfortable.

The stiffness of her shoulders, and the subtle tremble of her hands has the hairs on my arms standing up.

I’m about to make my presence known when a member of the waiting staff cuts in front of me with another tray of canapes.

It forces me to hang back and I take the moment to get a better gauge on their dynamic .

The stranger touches her arm and something in my chest tightens. It takes every ounce of willpower I possess to not walk over there and tear his hand away. His touch is light. Gentle, even. But the pain in Callie’s eyes is evident, even at this distance, and it makes my skin crawl.

In the background, I hear my father droning on mindlessly about the artists featured in the exhibition, but my focus is almost entirely fixated on the woman who has somehow buried herself under my skin.

I have no idea who this man is, or why he believes he has the right to touch her so casually, with a familiarity which can only mean they know each other.

I study him again, more carefully this time.

He’s tall and towers over her petite frame.

I put him around six feet, not quite as tall as me.

Now I look closer, I’m sure he’s of similar age to us.

He comes from money, that much is obvious.

It’s the way he holds himself, with confidence and swagger.

That, and the designer clothes. They’re casual, but the cut of his slacks, and his polished brogues scream fancy Italian tailoring.

They’ve been talking for at least five minutes now, and their conversation remains serious.

Callie has a couple of tells. Repeatedly pushing her hair behind her ear.

The nervous eyes darting around the room.

The way she appears smaller. She’s usually undeniably fierce, but not around whoever this is.

Edging closer, I make sure to keep my body turned away from them. I want to hear what they’re discussing but I don’t want her to see me.

What has her looking so utterly shattered?

The man takes a step towards her, closing the gap between them and it has me forgetting all about my resolve to stay incognito .

Fuck staying in the shadows .

I stride towards them, swiping two drinks from a waiter’s tray as I go.

As I approach Callie and the mystery man, she looks up.

She meets my gaze, confusion evident, like she can’t quite understand why I’m here.

You’d have to be pretty distracted to miss my father’s presence, and it’s almost like she’s forgotten where she is entirely.

The man assesses me slowly, dropping his hand from her arm. I step in close to her, offering her one of the glasses I’m holding.

“There you are, darling. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Callie’s eyes shoot to mine with a flash of uncertainty, but she remains quiet, and I take that as an invitation to continue.

Placing my glass on the table next to them, I put an arm around Callie’s waist, and offer my other in handshake to her companion.

It’s a bold move considering I can’t be sure this guy isn’t her boyfriend, or maybe even a family member.

The only thing I can be sure of is, she’s not comfortable with him in the way she is with me, as rather than shirking away, she melts into my side. She tucks herself against me in a way that feels so natural, it’s hard to believe she wasn’t created for the sole purpose of fitting exactly here.

If the guy is surprised to see me, his manners prevent him from commenting on it, and he returns my handshake firmly. Callie stares at where our hands meet before I drop his and take up my glass of wine.

“Why don’t you introduce me to your friend?”

“This is Nico Silva. Nico, this is Asher Pennington.”

Nico Silva. His name is unfamiliar, and I make a mental note to look into the guy as soon as I leave here .

“Good to meet you, Nico. Are you a friend of Calliope’s or…”

Nico’s eyes dart from mine to Callie’s, and back, almost like he’s trying to figure out how much I know about their relationship. The guy opens his mouth only to clamp it shut again. In the end, Callie answers for him.

“We used to date.”

White, hot jealousy courses through my veins. She used the word date but it’s clear from the way he’s looking at her that it was more than that. I couldn’t see it from across the room, but I see it now.

“Date or fuck?” I almost roar at the thought of his grubby hands on her perfect skin.

Images of them together, like we were last night, flash through my mind, and I desperately need them to stop before I create a scandal bigger than anything I have created before.

One, I fear, even my parents couldn’t cover up.

Callie tenses beside me but neither of them answers me. Inhaling hard, I tuck Callie in closer and look eyes with the man.

“It’s time for you to leave.”

Nico looks at my girl and addresses her.

“Is this your boyfriend?”

I feel her shake her head next to me and Nico looks relieved. He turns to me.

“Callie invited me here, and I would like to stay. I waited a long time for this conversation. Maybe it’s you who should leave.”

Callie shivers next to me, and I know without even having to ask her, she’s had enough of whatever conversation the two of them were having before I turned up.

“That’s not happening. Leave now or I’ll have you escorted from the premises. ”

“I’d like to see you try,” Nico replies smugly with a misjudged confidence.

I scoff. This fucking guy.

He has chutzpah, I’ll give him that.

“Don’t underestimate me, Nico Silva.”

“Maybe it’s you who shouldn’t be underestimating me , Lord Pennington.”

My life in the public eye might mean he has the advantage of knowing who I am, but it doesn’t worry me.

“Stop it!” Callie pushes away from me. “Both of you. Stop.” So, I do, because I’m fast discovering I’d do anything this woman asks me to.

She’s no longer tucked into my side, but she slips her delicate hand in mine. The motion is so unexpected my heartbeat jars.

I’m not the only person shocked by her actions, because Nico looks like someone has kicked his puppy. His face falls and I almost feel sorry for him. Almost. The guy had his hands on my woman. He’s lucky I haven’t already broken every single one of his fingers.

He looks between us, and I know he can tell he’s lost whatever the hell this is. I smile. He ignores me and addresses Callie.

“I’m glad you reached out.” I bristle at the thought of her wanting to see him, even if she is choosing me over him right now. “Please reconsider this being goodbye. I heard what you said earlier, but we were too important for this to be it.”

Callie hesitates for a few seconds, but then she nods.

“I can’t promise you anything, but I’ll try.”

He looks crestfallen, but he doesn’t argue. Nor does he leave. He reaches into his inside jacket pocket and pulls out a silver bracelet. Callie gasps next to me. He holds it out, and she lets go of my hand to take it. Her eyes widen as she turns it over in her hands.

“Where did you get this?”

“I got some new bedroom furniture a couple of years ago. The fitters found it then. It must have fallen behind my old bedside table.”

Callie examines it, tears in her eyes as she turns it over in her hand. It’s a chain with a heart-shaped tag hanging from it.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get it back to you sooner, Callie, but I didn’t want to post it. I was worried about it getting lost.”

She shakes her head, tears falling fast as she clutches it to her chest.

“Thank you. I made it impossible for you to get in touch with me, so please don’t apologise for that. I’m so glad you realised who it belonged to.”

“I haven’t exactly had hundreds of girlfriends since you. Even if you choose not to contact me again, I hope you know how much you meant to me.”

I glare at him, silently warning this motherfucker to walk away while he still has the use of his legs. He finally gets the message, and Callie and I stand together as Nico leaves, accompanied by his own security.

That’s when I see my own entourage looking for me. Squeezing Callie’s hand tighter, I lean in close.

“Want to get out of here?”