There’s no way,” I said, a little too loudly.
Inaya looked up, one perfectly groomed brow lifting. “No way what?”
“Nothing,” I muttered, waving her off. “Just… something I’m Googling.”
But my eyes stayed glued to the screen.
After our breakup five years ago, Ronan had sworn he hadn’t been with anyone else. I hadn’t believed him then.
How could I?
A man like Ronan, with his face, his money, his power, hiseffortless magnetism, didn’t go untouched for five years. It sounded ridiculous.
For the last few hours, I’d been digging through everything. Gossip blogs. Society pages. Tabloids. Social media. Archive after archive.
Nothing.
No girlfriends.
No models.
No scandals.
No blurry late-night photos.
Only Ronan with his friends, their wives, and an endless string of business events.
My stomach twisted.
“By the way,” Inaya said, suddenly bright, “we have an event tonight. I was thinking you wear that black dress you brought in case and I—”
I looked up, my brain scrambling to catch up. “We have a what?”
She crossed the room and turned her tablet toward me.
An invitation glowed on the screen.
Eminence Models NYC
Gala of Elegance
The Plaza Hotel
7:00 PM
My breath caught.
“This came in when?” I asked.
“Two days ago,” she said. “I only just saw it. Should I RSVP?”
My nerves sparked, but so did something stronger.
“Yes,” I said. “Tell them we’ll be there.”
This was exactly the kind of room I needed to be in.
Inaya beamed. “Good. Now—” she glanced at the sketches on the table “—what are we working with?”
