Page 4 of The Cost of Love

“After the auction, we will leave,” he says, his face neutral for anyone watching us.

“How about I write a cheque to the foundation, and we leave now?” Not as good at playing the game, I can’t keep myself from frowning.

Carter gives me a smug smirk as he pulls at his tie. “I was planning on spending fifty thousand. Will you match it?”

I will do anything if it means getting out of here. “Done.” I reach for my pocket.

“After dessert. I need my sweet fix,” he says.

I place my hands back on the table in resignation. A server slides a plate in front of me with three tiny decorated cakes. If she is here, then that means Chanice is out of the kitchen. My attention goes beyond my table, searching for her across the ballroom as wait staff moves from table to table. Spotting her just a few rows behind me, lowering her tray onto one of the waiting holders, we lock eyes.

Expecting a flirtatious wink or an insider smile, she instead looks at me with apprehension. I want to go to her and ask her what is wrong, but that is a ridiculous notion. She is working, and I am too secretive to cause such a scene. If people know what you want, then they can take it. I don’t want anyone to try to ruin us yet, not until I see if it is worthwhile.

Carter takes a bite out of the cake and moans, not caring who hears him. You would think he is between a woman’s legs with the ecstasy radiating off of him. But that’s just how he is with confections. Our love of food is one of the things we bonded over when we were in boarding school together. Whenever we got our hands on something other than what they served in the cafeteria, it was the best days of our young lives.

Even now, we scour the world in search of our next favourite dish, sending each other recommendations daily. In the end, I give him my plate, as savory foods appeal to me more. He doesn’t leave a crumb.

When we hand over our cheques to the organizer, he gets the name of the caterer. He raves about the food all the way to the club and doesn’t stop until we are seated at the bar.

“First day facing the board on Monday. Are you worried?” he asks, sipping from the dirty gin martini he ordered.

I take a gulp of my own old-fashioned and contemplate the question. Seeing as it will be the first time the board of directors will see me since I was told I am meant to take over the company, a lot rests on how well it goes.

The legacy of my father, Geralt Whitmore, was a shadow I was asked to walk in my entire life. With him having the indecency of passing at a young fifty-eight, I am exposed to the sun of his world sooner than I thought.

Never having given me anything other than money, he also left me the company our ancestor built and a dynasty to protect. All of that can slip away, despite our majority shares, if they find me to be inept.

“I’m ready,” is all I say, knowing I have no other choice but to be.

“I don’t envy you. Being the younger brother, I just have to work for my family. I don’t have to run anything.”

If only the roles were reversed. You would think with the way we act that he is the one burdened as the oldest son, and I am the spare, free to do as I please. But no, all I have is an older sister who our misogynistic world determined would not be in charge from her birth.

I shake my head, stopping that thought path. I can’t think about Olivia right now, because then I’ll think about our mother and end up drinking myself into a hole.

“Yes, you do,” I say, changing the subject, “I am the better-looking one.”

“We can play the game right now? Go to a bar and see who walks out with more phone numbers.” Raising his glass, he asks for another drink, making it clear he doesn’t actually want to play. Why would he? It’s almost always a tie.

“No, I have someone in mind that I would like to get to know.”

“Elizabeth?” He looks skeptical at this, but asks anyway.

The only woman I spoke to most of the night, he has no reason to believe it is anyone else.

“Someone else I met tonight. A server.”

“Alex.” The reprimand is clear in his voice.

Even without him having to say it, I know what he is thinking. The expectations are clear, but I don’t care. I tell him as such, ending the lecture before it even begins. Despite what he and the rest of the elite believe, I know a valuable woman when I see one. Her existence outside of our wealthy circles makes her even more appealing. I will get to know her. Changing the subject again, we continue on our evening. The whole time, I can’t get her out of my mind.

Chapter 3

Chanice

“Ihave leftovers!” I scream into the living room as I close the door behind me.

Without looking up, I can hear their footsteps rush over to me as excitement and hunger push them to my side. At this hour, the younger two should be sleeping, but they know what working catering shifts brings.