by K. A. Linde
“Incredible little spikes of death.”
He snorted. “Come on. We’ll have a seat for a minute. Unless my favorite song comes on.”
I groaned, and he laughed as he walked me off the dance floor. We didn’t make it back to our table, as we were intercepted by familiar faces.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Morgan said. She winked at me. “Love the dress.”
“Thanks. Hey, Mor,” I said, pulling the CEO of Wright Construction in for a hug.
“Morgan. Patrick,” Julian said. He shook hands with her boyfriend. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“She didn’t want to come,” Patrick said with a laugh.
Patrick was Morgan’s brother Austin’s best friend. It had been a whole to-do when they got together, especially when she’d just been promoted to CEO.
“I hate these things,” Morgan said with a shrug. For someone who hated it, she fit right in with a trim black dress. Her dark hair had clearly been coiffed to perfection by a professional, and she had flawless makeup. “But it’s part of the job.”
“Such a hardship,” Patrick teased.
“Shut up, you,” she said with a smile. “What are you kids doing here?”
“I’m here to represent the vineyard,” Julian said. “Jennifer is here with me.”
“Well, wasn’t that obvious by the cute dancing?” Morgan said, twirling her finger. “Also, Sutton told me.”
I laughed. “Of course she did.”
“Something about a twelve-pack of Coke?”
I flushed, and Julian arched an eyebrow.
“What am I missing?”
Morgan and I met each other’s eyes and giggled.
“Nothing.”
“It’s good to see you,” Morgan said to Julian. “I was going to ask Jordan about this, but he’s a busy bee with the new soccer complex. We’re having our annual Wright summer event. Usually, we do it on premises, but since it is the Wright Vineyard”—she winked at him—“might be good to try a new venue.”
“Yes,” Julian said enthusiastically. “Absolutely. I can have Alejandra run numbers for you. Nora is on staff for event planning. We should absolutely do it.”
“Good. Well, my work here is done,” Morgan said. She nudged Patrick. “See, I can network.”
“Yes, dear,” he said with a smirk on his lips.
“Sorry to interrupt, but are you Julian Wright?” a man said from behind us.
We turned around to find a man with a bald head that I’d never seen before.
Julian extended his hand. “That I am. And you are?”
“George Jeffries,” he said, shaking Julian’s hand. “We spoke on the phone. You met with my board earlier this month.”
“George. Yes, of course. It’s so great to meet you,” Julian said. He gestured to me. “This is my girlfriend, Jennifer.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said, shaking his hand.
“Hello there. I brought the missus myself, but she’s found the bar. So, I’ll introduce you if we can recover her.” Julian laughed with him. “Would you like to meet the rest of my team?”
“Yes, sir,” Julian said.
“We’ll see you later,” Morgan said, pulling Patrick away.
I waved good-bye and then followed Julian across the room to the most important meeting of his career thus far. He had to be nervous, though he didn’t show it. I was trying to have that same level of control. But the truth was, I had never dealt with anything like this before. And my normal level of anxiety, which had diminished while we danced, was coming back full force. And I wasn’t even the one having the meeting for the vineyard.
The rest of the team was four other old white guys in suits with bulging middles and varying lengths of beards. They were exactly what I’d expected for some reason. Old Texas money was usually held by the good ole boys. Their wives were huddled together, laughing around their cocktails with their big Texas hair and shiny diamonds on their wrists, throats, and earlobes.
I felt ridiculous, standing in front of them. Julian shook hands and used his considerable Wright charm with these men. Not even the wives looked my way or acknowledged me. It was as if I had entered a different era. And sure, it wasn’t like I had any business experience. I couldn’t contribute to the conversation in any way. But after meeting George, I’d been relegated to the sidelines, just like the other wives.
A wallflower to the very end. And it shouldn’t have made me panic to think about being here in this life. But when had my anxiety ever been rational?
Not any time in my lifetime. It had always come at the least opportune moments. Forcing my brain to fire on extra cylinders while also completely shutting down. It shouldn’t have been possible for it to happen at the same time, but it did. My brain whirred lightning fast, and as it pushed and pushed and pushed toward panic, everything else shut down. There was only blinding fear and desperation.
Thinking all of the irrational thoughts: I wasn’t good enough. I didn’t belong here. This meeting was too important for me to be on Julian’s arm. I was going to ruin it all. And worst of all: I couldn’t do this.
My hands shook, the tremors running up to my arms. I slowly took a step backward. Away from the men and their beautiful wives and this life I could never belong to.
Julian turned toward me. His face crinkled in concern. “Hey, are you all right?”
“Fine.”
His brow furrowed. Fine didn’t mean fine. He’d been the one to say that from the beginning. I watched him war with himself. Did he comfort me or deal with the most important meeting, one that he’d been waiting for? The answer was obvious. He had to have this meeting.
“I’m going to go find the powder room,” I said with a laugh and a forced smile.
“Jen…”
“I’ll be right back,” I told him. “Continue your meeting.”
He took a step toward me, but I turned and fled the ballroom. I didn’t want to interrupt. I needed to get to a restroom and get my shit together. Fucking anxiety. Why did it have to ruin everything?
I pushed into the restroom. A half-dozen women were inside, but no one looked my way when I went to the end of the long line of mirrors and took deep, heaving breaths, my hands braced on the cold counter. I needed to get this together. I needed to stop panicking. I needed…I needed…a Xanax.
I dumped my purse onto the counter and dug around inside. My hands were still shaking too badly that I couldn’t find what I was looking for. I jerked my Canon out of the bag and set it down as carefully as I could manage on the counter. No one else was even close to me. It would be safe where it was.
Then I rummaged through the rest of the bag for the pill bottles I always kept with me. First, my everyday anxiety pill. I dropped that on the counter next to my bag. A sleeping pill that I definitely didn’t need right now, but it helped calm my brain enough at night to finally crash. And—aha—my Xanax prescription.
I should have taken a half-pill before even coming to this thing, but I’d been on cloud nine. Everything was working well in my relationship. The sex was great. I was even sleeping because his dick apparently put me straight to sleep. I’d barely needed to take my everyday pill, but I knew better than to forget. Now, I was here, suffering for forgoing the Xanax. What had I thought—that my social anxiety would just disappear?
I popped the cap, washing the half-pill down with some water from the sink. Then I grabbed a paper towel and dabbed at my mouth and nose. I’d started sweating, thanks to the adrenaline rush from panicking. I couldn’t go back out there, looking like this.
A throat cleared in the middle of the restroom, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Then I froze in place.
Ashleigh Sinclair stood there, watching me. I didn’t know how long she’d been standing there. My anxiety pills were still on the counter, and I hastily tossed them all back into my bag. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Ashleigh stopped in front of me. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.”
“
You don’t look so great. Pale, dilated pupils, sweating,” Ashleigh rattled off my symptoms and then looked toward my bag and back to me.
“I’m fine,” I repeated more forcefully.
I turned my back on her and started the water. I got some soap and began to wash my hands, as if I’d come from the toilet. It was better than looking at her and wondering what scheme she was cooking up.
“Do you really think this is going to work?” Ashleigh asked, casually leaning her hip against the countertop.
“Is what going to work?”
“Hiding this from him.”
I stilled completely. My heart rate had been coming down, but it skyrocketed again. The water flowed over my now-clean hands. I needed to move, needed to think, needed some comeback.
“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said lamely.
“Well, it all makes sense, doesn’t it?”
“Leave me alone.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll keep it our little secret,” she said, moving in close. Then her elbow knocked into my camera, still sitting precariously on the counter.
I gasped, reaching for it, but I was too slow. The camera fell beyond my grasp and into the sink, water soaking it on contact. I almost screamed as I yanked it out of the stream of water and grabbed a handful of paper towels to try to undo the damage.
“Oops,” she said.
I whirled on her, all of my anxiety evaporating in the wake of my fury. It was one thing to be mean to me. It was another thing entirely to try to hurt my livelihood. I had an elopement to photograph tomorrow, and this was my only working camera, my favorite, my baby. She was easily the most expensive thing I’d ever owned. And if she was ruined, then I’d kill Ashleigh Sinclair.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I snapped.
“It was an accident,” she said with a viperous smile.
“No, it wasn’t. We both know it was no accident. Do you think this is going to win Julian back? Or are you past the point of that and going for flat-out sabotage? Because all it’s going to do is make him hate you. Is that what you want?”
Ashleigh straightened to her full height. Her teeth tight together. “And you think what you’re doing is going to win him?”
“News flash,” I snarled, “Julian is already mine. He’s mine, Ashleigh.”
“For now.”
“You had your chance. You had him for two years. And then you ruined everything. There is no way that he would ever go back to you after what you did.” I took a step toward her, throwing my purse back on my shoulder and grabbing my camera, still wadded up in paper towels. “So, why don’t you get the hell out of my way and get your own life?”
Ashleigh opened her mouth and then closed it, as if she had no retort to that. Miraculously, she took a step to the side. I strode past her without looking back.
I couldn’t believe I’d done that. It had only taken ruining my favorite camera to get here, but I’d stood up to Ashleigh Sinclair.
26
Julian
I shook hands with George. I laughed at their bad jokes and smiled at their wandering-eyed wives. I did it all, and at the end, I came out with the yes. They wanted to work with me. I could look forward to hearing from them. But the entire time, I’d been worrying about Jen. She’d freaked out halfway into the meeting and disappeared. She still hadn’t come back. I didn’t like that I wasn’t there to protect her.
At the first opportunity to get away, I took it and stormed across the concert hall to find Jennifer. I texted, asking where she was, but she didn’t respond. A panic came over me when I ran into the last person I wanted—Ashleigh.
“Have you seen Jennifer?” I asked.
She smiled a dangerous smile. “She was in the bathroom.”
“Is she still in there?”
“I think she left.”
“The bathroom?”
“The party,” she said.
“What did you do?” I demanded.
She gave me the biggest puppy-dog eyes she could muster. “Why would you think that I did anything?”
“History,” I snarled.
Ashleigh shrugged. “I didn’t do anything, but you should maybe look in her purse.”
“What?” I blinked in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m just saying…if you want to know who you’re really dating.”
I sighed heavily. “I don’t want to play games. If you don’t know where she is, then we’re done here.”
“I’m trying to warn you,” she said, reaching for my arm.
I pulled back sharply. “Don’t.”
“Two years,” Ashleigh whispered. “We were together for two years, and you can just throw it all away? Do I disgust you that much?”
“I’m not having this conversation. You know why we broke up. Now, I’m going to go find Jen.”
Ashleigh looked like she wanted to say more, but I pushed past her. I didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about with Jen. It was normal Sinclair mind games. I wouldn’t fall for it. And if she’d seen Jennifer in the restroom, that probably meant that she’d gotten to her. Fuck.
I dashed through the lobby until I found Jennifer seated at a table, wiping down her camera with paper towels.
“There you are,” I breathed in relief. “I’ve been texting you.”
“Sorry,” she whispered. She sniffled and dabbed at her eyes. “I didn’t want to ruin your meeting.”
“Hey,” I said, sinking into the chair next to her. “What happened? Are you okay?”
In response, she pushed the camera toward me. I looked at it and the wad of soaked paper towels. Everything clicked together at once.
“Oh fuck, your camera. Does it work?”
She sniffled again and shook her head. “It won’t turn on. I’ll put it in rice when I get home, but…”
“How the hell did this happen?”
She laughed sardonically. “How do you think?”
“Ashleigh,” I breathed.
She nodded. Explanation enough.
“Fuck, Jen. Fuck.” I ran a hand back through my hair, not caring about how I’d meticulously gelled it to look like this. “This is my fault. I’ll replace the camera.”
“No. I mean, you don’t have to.”
“Yes, I absolutely do. This is unacceptable in every way.”
“I’m sorry that I’m such a mess,” she said.
I took her hand in mine, stroking my thumb along her palm. “You do not need to apologize for anything. I can’t believe she’d even do this.” Then I sighed. “I guess I do believe it, but I hate to think she would. That she’d try to hurt you because you’re with me.”
“I…kind of said as much to her,” she said with a small laugh.
“Did you?” I asked.
“Yeah. I might have jumped down her throat and told her that you were going to hate her and she’d never get you back. That she had her chance and ruined it.”
I blew out a harsh breath. Well, Ashleigh’s reaction when I had seen her made more sense.
“Well, not inaccurate,” I told her. “Though I didn’t think you’d say so.”
She pushed the camera toward me again. Fire was back in her eyes. “She knocked my camera into the sink while the water was running. She deserved everything I said to her.”
I smiled and drew her toward me, dropping my mouth onto hers. She melted into me, as if everything that had put her on edge disappeared in that one kiss. When I pulled back, her eyes were still closed, and she looked dazed.
“Do you want to go home?” I asked her.
Her eyes fluttered open. “I don’t want to give her the satisfaction.”
I laughed. “You’re turning into a real spitfire. Do you know that?”
She flushed. “I’m tired of being a pushover.”
“You’re not a pushover.”
“I really am. But I stood up to her, which was a first, and I don’t want her to ruin our night. Then she’d win anyway.”
“All right,” I said, coming to my feet. I held my hand out to her and helped her up. She put her camera back in her purse, and we headed back to the gala.
“How did the meeting go?” she asked as I pulled her into my arms on the dance floor.
“Excellent. Should be a done deal.”
“Good. At least one good thing came out of all of this.” She nuzzled into me as the music turned to a slow song.
“I think more than one good thing came out of this.”
“Oh?”
“You in that dress.” I leaned toward her ear. “In those shoes.”
“You like them?”
“I picked them out.”
She laughed. “Not Annie?”
I shook my head. “Just me.”
“You have good taste in shoes, Wright.”
I pressed a kiss to her earlobe. “Would it be bad to say that I’ve been thinking about you in those shoes all night?” She shivered against me. “Just those shoes.”
She blushed. “Well, now, you are making me want to go home early.”
“Who says we have to go home?”
“Scandalous,” she breathed.
“My brother built this place. I know my way around well enough to find us a secluded corner.”
“Oh my God.” Her blush deepened.
“No?” I asked, pulling back to look into her eyes.
She bit her lip. “I’ve never done anything like that before.”
I laughed at her look. “Just come with me. I want to show you something.”
“Is that a euphemism?”
“No, I’m serious.” I kissed her hand. “You’ll like it.”
I watched her waver, but then she nodded and followed me. I was glad that I’d gone on all those tours with Jordan. Who knew I’d use that information for my own advantage? I wended our way through the crowd and popped open a nearly invisible door that led backstage.
“Wow,” Jennifer gasped.
We stepped around the corner and through the wings to see the stage in all its glory. Just on the other side of that curtain were hundreds of people enjoying the gala. None the wiser that we were here.
“It’s beautiful,” she murmured. Her eyes were wide as she took in the space.
