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“Look at that,” one of the women said, the glee in her voice forcing me to sidestep Daire to see what was going on.
He didn’t notice I’d moved until it was too late. Until my gaze landed on the hand of the fucker who should get lost and I saw the way he was stroking Archer’s lapel and smiling at him. No doubt the group they were chatting with was giving them the same encouragement the women behind me were spewing, egging this shit on.
My pulse sped up as Archer wrapped his hand around the guy’s wrist—and then, like he knew I was watching, his eyes met mine.
It was irrational, I knew it, but I didn’t care, because my heart felt like it was cracking in two. And the truth was, what was happening looked natural. They looked like they should be together. They probably had more in common; he probably wasn’t half Archer’s age. Definitely wasn’t dating his daughter.
Daire gripped my shoulder, hard, and I barely heard him as he said, “I don’t mind a second black eye. Just say the word.”
But I couldn’t. I didn’t want to hurt Archer or cause him any embarrassment, not on his big night, but I couldn’t force the words out, because it felt like someone was sitting on my chest.
I shook my head, still in a staring match with Archer. He pushed his date’s hand away, but it was too late. I had to get out of here.
“Need…some air,” I managed to say, stumbling back out of Daire’s hold.
“I’ll go with?—”
“No.” I glanced at the dance floor, where Serena was thankfully oblivious to what was happening. “Tell her I had to go.”
He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but then he snapped it shut and nodded.
And I took off like a bat out of hell.
THIRTY-THREE
archer
FUCK.
MY CHEST tightened and my heart pounded as I watched Preston disappear into the crowd.Goddammit. I knew I’d caught Rodney’s hand too late, but to see the hurt in Preston’s eyes was like taking a knife to the chest.
Where was he going? What was he thinking? I searched the dance floor for Serena, trying to track down the one person I knew would go after him to make sure he was okay. But when I caught her laughing and spinning around the ballroom with her friends, a bead of sweat popped out on my brow.
“Isn’t that right, Archer?”
At the sound of my name, I brought my attention back to the group surrounding me, and as they stood there staring at me expectantly, their faces began to blur.
Jesus.Was I having a heart attack? I was forty-two—it could happen.
“Archer?” The concern in Rodney’s voice was obvious, but as my vision began to clear, so did the façade I’d taken part in tonight.
I didn’t want to be here with Rodney. That wasn’t his fault. I should’ve canceled this date long before now. I should’ve canceled the second Benoit reminded me about it.
Instead, I’d made a colossal fucking mess out of everything. Now everyone on the Upper East Side was speculating on whether we were a couple, when the one person I wanted by my side had just slipped out the door.
Slipped away from me.
“Can you hold this?” I handed Rodney my whiskey tumbler and felt a pang of guilt over what I was about to do next. But I didn’t have time to think about that now.
“Uh…sure. Are you okay?”
No. But I will be when I find Preston.
“Yes. I just— I need to go check on something.”
I didn’t bother waiting for a response, excusing myself and heading to the bar where Preston’s crew was holding court. I needed to find Preston, but I had to be careful. None of them knew what was going on between us, so whatever I said here needed to be stealthy. Something I was usually good at—when I was in my right mind.
As I weaved my way through the crowds, I did my best to appear jovial, thrilled with how the night was going as the president of the Elysium. But deep inside, all I wanted to do was rush out the door and make sure Preston was okay.
