Page 87 of The Cost of Love

It’s like I’m in a movie as I walk up the steps with my dress billowing out behind me. His hand is clasping mine as he leads me into a room that looks like the final scene of a Christmas one. Red, silver, and gold decorations are everywhere, including hanging from the ceiling as life-sized snow globes. Big bows are on all of the items up for auction. Even the waitstaff is in theme with sparkling silver vests.

“Wow,” I say, the word escaping without my intention.

It’s not the first time I’ve seen an event like this, but it’s the first time I’m seeing it from this lens.

“I agree.”

I turn to see him looking at me. Before I can respond, a man walks up and grabs his shoulder. Alex turns towards him, and his whole face lights up. They briefly hug before he brings him closer to me.

“Chanice, this is Carter.”

Carter offers his hand, and I shake it happily. Alex told me about him, but it’s so nice to see I’m not the only Black person in his life.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” I say.

“Same, I have heard a lot about you, and when I say a lot, I mean almost daily.” He side-eyes Alex, and in response Alex pushes him.

“I would love to know what he’s said.”

“Well, I honestly think he fell in love the moment you scoffed. So if you blew your nose, I heard about it.”

Alex doesn’t deny it, but Carter looks like he is joking.

“Meeting you, I might be able to understand why.” This time, Carter’s stare is more appreciative.

The way he smirks at Alex, I know he is doing it to get a rise out of him. Alex glares at him all the same.

“I think I just saw your brother walking towards the Reinhardt,” Alex says.

This causes Carter’s face to fall. “For fuck’s sake, they are just paintings of squares. How many does he need?” He offers me another smile and handshake before he takes off.

We walk further into the room and come face to face with more art, vehicles, and some tables with descriptions of things you can win. None of it seems worth the starting bid prices.

“Maybe we can find something for your place,” he says, obviously not agreeing.

I pull him up short with a grab of his wrist. He bites his bottom lip, and I realize he is trying to keep a laugh in. Rolling my eyes, I let him go and return to circling the room. Every once in a while, it feels like someone is staring at me, but every time I look around, I don’t meet eyes with anyone. Still, the feeling persists.

“Are people looking at us?” I finally ask him when I start to feel like I’m crawling out of my skin.

“They’re probably wondering who you are. People have been waiting for me to get into a relationship since I got back.”

“Great,” I mumble, looking down.

Coming with him tonight, I guess, is my introduction to his world. From this point on, I will forever be known as the woman who dated Alexander Whitmore. I didn’t think about how much attention that would bring to me. At least these aren’t people I’ll come in contact with at the places I frequent.

“Ma’am.”

I look up from the floor to see a waiter standing in front of me. He lowers his platter and offering me some mini meat pies. I take a pastry and thank him profusely. This causes him to smile a little brighter.

It’s not lost on me that only four or so months ago, that was me looking at Alex. And now here I am on his arm. To make it even more surreal, a couple walks up and stands in front of the server, completely ignoring his existence. He turns like it’s nothing, and I flinch.

“Alexander! So good to see you,” the man says.

Alex introduces them as the Sinclairs, and then promptly jumps into a conversation with Jeff. The woman, whose name is Victoria looks me up and down.

“Beautiful dress, is it Hullier?”

“Um, no, Shirz, I believe,” I say, rubbing my hands down it.