Page 27

He’s wearing a royal-blue tux with a matching bow tie, and I find myself speechless for a full five seconds.

“He-hello,” I stumble over my words.

“You ready to go?” he asks, and looks briefly at my attire.

I’m wearing my only tux. It’s black, and not nearly as cool as his.

“Yes.” I nod and grab my phone from the entrance table, then I pat over my chest to make sure my earbuds are in my suit pocket. “Eric is waiting downstairs for us,” I tell him as I make sure the door to my apartment is locked.

“What about your parents?” Carter asks.

“Paco took them a few minutes ago.”

“That’s great,” he says quietly as we wait for the elevator. There’s a pointed moment of silence, and I feel this need to say something but can’t think of anything.

The last four days have been hectic. Well, not yesterday. Carter and I had lunch to finalize all the details about tonight, and then I finally had some quiet time, which he insisted I needed.

I wanted to ask him to come over and listen to music with me, but I chickened out in the end so I spent all evening alone.

I did rest well, though, so that’s something.

Thursday and Friday were full days at the studio, and we only managed to get a perfect recording late Friday night, then on Saturday Carter and I went to the park and talked a lot about what to expect at this ball.

Now it’s time, and I feel like I don’t even know how to speak anymore?

This is a disaster, a trainwreck waiting to happen.

We need to call it all off and?—

“CJ just texted me that they’re leaving the brownstone, so I think we’ll all arrive at the same time. It’s going to work perfectly since all the cameras will be pointed at them and no one will give us a second glance.”

“Good,” I whisper.

The doors open, and when we step out I feel Carter grip my hand. I startle but manage to control it enough.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and squeezes my hand one time.

I look him in the eyes then, and have to swallow hard at the worry I recognize there. I close my eyes and go with my instincts.

“Talk to me.” I whisper my plea.

“What?” he asks quietly too.

“Just tell me anything. Your voice is calming,” I explain.

It takes him a second, but then he does it. He tells me about the talks he’s been having with Sebas and CJ, all the plans they have for their galleries, and I listen intently right there in the middle of the building’s lobby.

In the back of my mind, I process how his hand is warm and soft against mine—he’s always warmer than me—how he grabbed me this time, and how I’ll probably have all night to experience it.

I need to enjoy it, then.

I have no idea if that will happen again, so we can’t not go. I can’t miss this shot with him or with Michelle Blackwell.

I open my eyes and Carter stops mid-sentence.

“You alright?” he asks.

“Better,” I confess, and nod, then I’m the one squeezing his hand. “Let’s go.”

The car ride is silent and our entrance goes just as planned.

No one even notices us, and we even hear shouts for Hawk and Wolf to get into pictures together.

We walk around all the photographers, and when we finally step inside the ballroom of the Park Avenue Certon, it’s to see Tristan speed walking our way.

“You’re here,” he says with a wide smile that looks weird, and I’m about to point out we’re right on time when his gaze turns down and he frowns at my hand holding Carter’s.

“What’s this?” he asks, looking up at Carter with wide eyes, then immediately closes them.

“You know what? Never mind. I’ll go see where Michelle is. You guys go get a drink.”

He’s walking away before I can agree with him, and when I look at Carter, he shrugs and just leads me to the bar .

I get my whiskey and Carter opts for scotch, then he takes a step closer and starts talking right by my ear.

It’s crowded and loud, I understand that’s why he does it, but the fuzzies are still happening at an alarming rate.

“So when we see Tristan walking over, I’ll just turn around and lean on the bar,” he starts, reminding me of the plan we came up with.

“I’ll be right with you the whole time. If she asks to go somewhere else, you can decide if you want me to go too or if you’re good with Tristan.

Then when that’s done, we wait until the dickhead comes at you, and we put him in his place. ”

“Yes, and then we can leave, right?” I ask, already beyond anxious.

All of Carter’s friends are coming—or well, the ones who are in the city—but he assured me he doesn’t care about staying for the party.

“Yes, as soon as that’s done we leave this place and go get some ice cream from the bodega by your building.”

I let out a slow breath, and I’m close to feeling more settled when his voice freezes my insides.

“Plain old black tux, huh?” Dirk says, and again I’m reminded of how awful his voice sounds. “Boring as always,” he says, and I see his cruel smirk—the one I have no problem recognizing—as he trails his gaze from the bottom of my shoes to my eyes.

“I’d say you’re the biggest wanker I’ve ever met in all my life, but you’re not,” Carter says, voice hard and harsh.

I see true fury come into Dirk’s eyes, but Carter doesn’t care, in fact, he smiles back.

“You’re not even good enough at being an arsehole, how about that?

” There’s a mocking tone to his words that I don’t particularly enjoy, especially when Dirk opens his dumb mouth.

“And you clearly need to get your head checked if you’re in love with this one,” Dirk snaps and points in my direction without looking. “In fact, maybe your freak matches and you just increase each other’s weirdo meter.”

He thinks we’re in love, and I bet it’s because of the hand holding, so I was right. It gives me the confidence I need to defend myself. Holding tightly to Carter’s hand I step forward until my chest almost bumps against his stupid finger.

“You’re irrelevant in my life, Dirk.” I speak softly but clearly, and don’t even bother to try to look him in the eyes.

He really isn’t worth the effort. “Last week when you rudely interrupted our date was the first time I’d thought of you in years.

So why don’t you go back to what you’re good at and become irrelevant again? ”

His lip curls in a sneer. I’m ready for whatever he’s about to say, but Tristan’s voice sounding just beside me stops all of us.

“Michelle, this is Liam Trent,” he announces like I’m some big deal.

I look her in the eyes when I shake her hand.

“So nice to meet you, Liam. This is my son, Matthew.” She waves a hand in his direction and I shake his hand too. “He works with me and will join us when we talk, I really respect his input. And you brought a date. A handsome one too,” she says, sounding... happy? I think.

I follow her gaze to see it locked on my other hand.

The one that’s holding Carter’s.

I see it in slow motion, realization come into her eyes and a big smile stretching her cheeks. Then she offers him her hand, and panic grips my insides and squeezes hard enough to have all the breath inside me escaping.

I need to say something.

She can’t think we’re together. I’m going to be working with her for a long time hopefully. How am I going to fix this?

Carter speaks before I can think of any way out of this.