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“And he’s calling it in?” she asks, her eyes narrowing on Bennett. “Is that what he’s doing?”
Bennett shakes his head, guilt etched all over his face. “I don’t know. He didn’t say. He asked me about the party, and I said that you were upset.” He glances at me, shame flickering in his eyes. “Then he pretty much grilled me until I let everything slip. And I’m so sorry, Eden. I’m sorry because I want to be your friend and I’ve fucked up again.”
I reach across the table for his hand. “No you haven’t. This isn’t your fault.” My throat tightens. “I’m going to call West and warn him. It’ll be okay.” That’s what I have to believe.
Autumn’s hand brushes mine, her expression taut. “Do you want me to call Hudson?”
“No.” I shake my head quickly. “Not yet.”
I stand, leaving them at the table as I dig my phone from my purse and quickly speed dial West. It goes to voicemail. My pulse hammers as I leave a short, urgent message, then follow it with a text I hope flashes up on his screen.
West, please call me. And do NOT talk to Vin without talking to me first. – Eden x
Next I call his assistant in L.A., who talks me through his schedule – meetings in New York, no location, no names – then promises to tell him to call me the second she hears from him. By the time I hang up, my hands are trembling.
“Where did you say Vin’s apartment is?” I ask Bennett.
He grimaces. “I don’t know. I’ll call my mom, she can find out.”
“Thank you.”
“Honey, you’re worrying me. Why do you look so frightened?” Autumn reaches for me, taking my shaking hand.
“I think West might be in trouble. And it’s my fault. I told Bennett about West marrying me to protect me, and he told Vin and now it’s all gone to hell.”
I’ve barely even finished talking before she’s on her phone, tapping out a message.
“What are you doing?” I ask her.
“I know you hate it, but you have a big family who wants to help. So I’m asking for that.” She looks at me. “You’re not alone.And despite everything that’s happened, we all love West. I’ve called a family meeting at the hotel. Let us help you.”
My throat tightens, as Bennett watches us with open eyes.
“Okay,” I whisper, though it goes against every grain in my being. This is my problem. I should be the one solving it.
“Good. Now let’s go, everyone will be there in ten minutes.”
thirty-four
WEST
Three armed bodyguards greet me as I step out of the elevator into Vin’s penthouse apartment. They could be brothers. Broad shoulders, ear pieces, the subtle bulge from handguns beneath their black jackets. One of them pats me down, while the other whispers into his earpiece.
“Mr. Marchetti would like you to wait for him in his drawing room,” the third one says. “Would you like a drink?”
“Coffee would be good.” I glance at my watch. It’s one o’clock in the afternoon and I’ve already burned two hours in a helicopter to get here. Another thing I won’t be telling Eden, because she’ll skin me alive for it. Wasted resources and all. My patience is thin. I want this meeting over with, this mess buried, so I can go home to her.
I’m led down a hallway that smells of polish and new money. My mom would have called the décor ‘garish’, not that I ever gave a damn about her opinion.
But it’s all gold leaf, generic paintings, and pieces that somebody picked wanting them to look antique while knowing they were made in China in the last few years.
It’s like he’s cosplaying being part of something. And weirdly, I know how that feels.
“You can sit there,” the guard says when we get to the living room overlooking Central Park. I do as I’m told, then take the coffee that’s brought in by a uniformed maid.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
The door clicks open. Vin Marchetti strolls in like he owns the city, tailored suit, slick smile, a crystal tumbler of whiskey in his hand.
