Page 189 of Ricardo

“That is a very strange compliment.”

“Here's an even stranger one.” He pulls me closer and whispers in my ear. “I'm quite aroused by competence as well.”

My breath catches, and his mouth curves against my skin.

But before I can think any more about it, the first guests begin arriving, and there’s no room for that. Coats are taken. Champagne appears in hands. Polite laughter rises near the sponsor wall. Men who dislike each other clap shoulders as if they are old friends. Women who have not forgiven each other for things that happened ten years ago kiss cheeks and compliment earrings.

I know this world.

I hate it.

Ricardo keeps me beside him as the room fills. He introduces me by my name. Not as Mario's assistant or as Judge O'Brien's daughter. Or even as his date.

I am simply Julia O'Brien.

When people ask if I am with Conti Enterprises, I answer honestly. I tell them I work with Mario’s office and helped coordinate the guest strategy for the evening. When their eyes shift to Ricardo, he does not correct them away from the other truth.

It's obvious we're together, but I appreciate that tonight I am simply myself.

The first time someone says, “And you are here with Ricardo tonight?” my pulse jumps.

Ricardo looks at me.

He lets me answer. I appreciate that as well.

“Yes,” I say. “I am.”

The woman smiles with the satisfied look of someone who has just been handed something worth repeating.

“Lovely,” she says.

It will be around the room in ten minutes.

Maybe five.

I should feel exposed.

I do feel exposed.

But I also feel Ricardo’s hand at my back, warm and comforting, and I do not step away.

Across the ballroom, Mario stands near the entrance with Victoria at his side. He looks every inch the man who commands the room without needing to say so. Victoria is in a deep blue gown that makes her look both elegant and untouchable, one hand resting lightly over the curve of her stomach.

When her eyes meet mine, she smiles warmly.

A few minutes later, I find myself beside her near the edge of the ballroom while Ricardo speaks with Lorenzo and a hospital donor who has too many opinions about valet flow.

Victoria touches my arm lightly.

“You look beautiful.”

“Thank you. So do you.”

She gives me a small smile. “I had more help than I care to admit.”

“I doubt that. I hate to sound like a cliché, but you're glowing.”

She beams, and then I see her gaze move briefly toward Ricardo, then back to me.