“Of course, Cupcake.”
It was my turn to blush.
“I’m going to mingle so I don’t do something crazy like kiss you in front of all of my coworkers.” I said. “You should do the same.”
“I’m okay with an audience if you are.” Nathan said, making me laugh.
“See you around, Mr. Edge.” I purposely placed emphasis on his name before strolling over to meet up with my friends.
***
THE CHATTER INthe room was a low hum, punctuated by bursts of laughter and clinking glasses. I moved through thecrowd with practiced ease, stopping here and there to chat with colleagues who seemed genuinely upset that I was leaving.
“Did you know Nathan was planning this?” Marissa asked, her perfectly arched brows raised in curiosity as she handed me a glass of champagne.
I took it gratefully, shaking my head. “Not a clue. I thought I was walking into an artist showcase.”
“Well, leave it to Mr. Edge to go big or go home,” she said, her lips curving into a knowing smile. “Although, I’d say this is more personal than professional.”
I sipped my drink, trying not to let my reaction give anything away. Marissa had always been sharp and I’m sure my Tiktok only fueled her suspicions, but there was no way she could know about Nathan and me. Could she?
“Personal?” I asked, keeping my tone light.
“Oh, come on.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “It’s not every day Nathan Edge throws a party like this for anyone. Hell, I’ve worked here for five years, and he barely acknowledges birthdays.”
I laughed, brushing it off even as my cheeks grew hot. “Maybe he’s just in a festive mood.”
“Well, it’s obvious he’s in a better mood lately,” Marissa added, her voice lowering as if she was about to spill some juicy gossip. “Some of us are starting to think it’s because he’s getting laid on a regular basis. Everyone’s been wondering who the lucky woman is.”
The words sat heavy in my chest, but I kept my face neutral, pretending to find her comment as casual as she intended. “Guess we’ll never know,” I replied with a tight smile.
Marissa didn’t look convinced, but before she could press further, Kingsley swooped in with his signature charm. “Elise, our star! How does it feel knowing you’re escaping the clutchesof the infamous Nathan Edge and not leaving in tears or therapy?”
“Like experiencing a miracle.” I laughed.
Kingsley chuckled. “Well, whatever you did, it worked. The rest of us are still out here dodging his wrath like our lives depend on it.”
“That’s because they do,” Marissa muttered, earning a round of nods from the group.
I stole a glance at Nathan across the room, watching as he engaged in conversation with my friends who had come out to support. His expression was neutral, his posture relaxed but commanding. He was ruthless, yes. But he was also the man who memorized my coffee order down to the exact number of pumps of vanilla.
Conversation flowed easily after that, but I couldn’t help stealing glances at Nathan from across the room as time moved on. He was talking to Trent now, one hand tucked into the pocket of his perfectly tailored pants, the other holding a whiskey glass. His face was composed, as usual, but I could tell from the slight curve of his lips that he was keeping an ear out for me.
I caught his eye once, and his expression softened in a way that made my heart stutter. It was ridiculous how much power that man had over me.
“Earth to Elise.”
I blinked, realizing Kingsley was staring at me with a teasing smirk. “What?”
“You’ve been zoning out,” he said, leaning closer. “You okay?”
“Yes,” I said too quickly, avoiding his gaze. “Just… overwhelmed by everything.”
“Uh-huh.” Kingsley didn’t believe me, but thankfully, he didn’t push. Instead, he excused himself to grab another drink,leaving me with Marissa, who was busy scrolling through her phone.
I used the momentary lull as an opportunity to escape. Slipping through the crowd, I made my way out of the showcase room.
Once I was alone in the hallway, I exhaled a long breath and leaned against the wall. My head was spinning. Not from the party itself, but from the weight of keeping things under wraps with Nathan.
