Page 88 of Dirty Boss

And if I was as fake as he had been—how could anyone else be any different? How could I trust Alba to stand by my side? Why had she agreed to come here with me in the first place, if not to get a foot back in the door that had been closed to her just a few short weeks ago?

“Vaughn,” Alba said, squeezing my palm. “You’ll be fine.”

She was so beautiful. Her makeup was perfect, subtle but enhancing. Her hair looked shiny and soft. Her shoulders were bare, as was her neck, but earrings dangled from her lobes. She looked like she’d stepped out of the pages of a magazine and for some reason decided to slum it with me.

“The fact that you bought tickets to his gala is all that matters,” she continued. “Arlo Noble is one of the good ones.”

“Oh?”

She smiled. “I’ll put it this way: he wouldn’t destroy his daughter’s vegetable garden for the sake of an anniversary party.”

I nodded.

“It’s a formality. We’ll go in, have dinner, dance a little. You’ll go up to him and tell him that you’re looking forward to working together, and then we can leave.”

“That’s all, huh,” I said, leaning against the headrest and glancing out the window. We were getting closer to the venue.

“That’s all,” she confirmed. “You’ve done the hard work. This is just the final hurdle.”

I wanted to believe her. I wanted it to be true. After tonight, Arlo Noble would inject the business with cash, and the Midtown job’s problems would seem like little tiny bug bites instead of gaping wounds. Charlotte would still be with me everytwo weeks. Alba would be by my side. Everything would work out perfectly.

And yet, when the car slid to a stop and our driver opened the door, I watched Alba take a deep breath and don another persona, and I couldn’t help the discomfort that slithered through me. If I continued to move in these circles, would I get used to slipping into a new role? Would I dismiss the fakeness of it as formality? Would I enjoy the glitz and glamour a little too much?

I got out of the car and turned to extend my hand to Alba as she exited behind me.

“Here we go,” Alba said, straightening. Her chin lifted. Her shoulders rolled back. Her eyes went flinty.

The Alba I knew—the Alba I’d fallen in love with—was gone.

THIRTY-THREE

ALBA

I regretted agreeingto be Vaughn’s date long before I stepped through the doors into the ballroom. And when I did finally step through and recognize two dozen faces around the room, my regret ballooned into something bigger.

My steps were stiff. I wore a mask that had once been as familiar as my own face, but now it felt rigid and uncomfortable. The remote socialite who judged people at a glance. The flighty girl who lived off her parents’ fortune, who was trained to stand beside big, powerful men in rooms just like these. To all these people, I was Alba Enders, rich socialite who’d been whispered about for over a year.

But I wasn’t that Alba anymore. The past year and a half had changed me. I wore a beautiful dress and I glided in my heels, but I knew I didn’t belong in this room. Every cell in my body screamed at me to turn around and run away. The F-U moment of glory that Deena and I had laughed about was a lie. I didn’t want it. I just wanted to leave.

Beside me, Vaughn exhaled, and I remembered the other reason I’d agreed to come here.

Vaughn was a good man—the best man I’d ever known—and I’d fallen fast and hard for him. I was here to stand at his sideand support him. It was ironic that after fighting so hard against all the training my parents had put me through, I ended up doing exactly what they’d taught me to do. I was an accessory to Vaughn’s big plans, here to make him look good.

But it felt different when I loved him. Iwantedhim to succeed. I was ready to endure some discomfort for his sake, because he’d done so much for me these past months. He’d made me feel like a person again. He’d reminded me that I had worth. That I deserved dignity.

So, as he stiffened beside me, clumsily grabbing two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray, I steeled myself against the uneasiness flooding my senses and braced myself for a tough evening. It would be worth it to watch Vaughn flourish. I could endure a lot worse than this if it meant getting my happily-ever-after.

Taking one of the champagne flutes that Vaughn offered me, I filled my lungs, braced myself, and faced the people who had rejected me not too long ago.

And I realized that notallof these people had rejected me. Arlo Noble approached with his wife by his side, a broad smile on his face.

“Vaughn! You made it.”

Vaughn smiled back at the other man, and it was only because we’d spent so much time together that I noticed the slight strain around the corners of his mouth. They shook hands, and I waited patiently for my moment.

It was a familiar dance to me, waiting to be introduced like this. Arlo was well-practiced, turning to the woman at his side as soon as he and Vaughn’s hands came apart.

“My beautiful wife, Bonnie,” he said. “This is the guy I was telling you about.”