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If that was truly how little he thought of me, he had another thing coming. I was going to make absolutely sure that when we walked into that gala on Saturday night, the only person who was embarrassed would be him—for completely underestimating me.

CHAPTER 19

HOLDEN

I’d always held a special kind of hatred for themed events, but a charity gala with a mandatory costume requirement was a unique brand of hell as far as I was concerned. Tonight’s theme was a masquerade, some pre-Halloween bullshit cooked up by a committee of people who had too much time and money on their hands.

Naturally, I completely ignored the prompt, dressing in a classic, tailored black tuxedo instead of donning some ridiculous velvet cape or mask.

I wasn’t a fan of Halloween. I never had been. The concept of people pretending to be something they weren’t, even if supposedly just for fun, didn’t sit well with me.

As it was, most people spent three hundred and sixty-five days a year wearing metaphorical masks to protect their reputations, status, or stock portfolios. Adding a literal version just felt redundant.

Standing in the hallway of the brownstone, I adjusted my bowtie in the mirror, deciding that it was fine just a little bit askew when Alicia’s voice came from her bedroom. “Holden? Are you decent? I think I might need some help.”

I frowned but strode down the hall to her door and pushed it open, the irritation vaporizing from my bloodstream as soon as I laid eyes on her. She was standing in front of a full-length mirror, looking spectacular in a rich, ruby-red gown that fit like it had been sculpted on her body.

Slightly off-center from the nape of her neck, her blonde hair was in an elegant, intricate twist that exposed the delicate line of her throat. The deep red of the fabric made her skin look like porcelain, but the breathtaking, effortless elegance of the look was a touch ruined by the fact that right now, she was contorted into a weird, pretzel-type shape, her arms flailing behind her back as she tried to reach the zipper.

“It’s stuck,” she muttered, her cheeks flushing as she glanced at me in the reflection. “I can’t get it past the middle of my back.”

“Hold still,” I said, my voice an octave lower than usual before I tore my gaze away from her and cleared my throat. “I can get it.”

I stepped up behind her, that vague, intoxicating scent of vanilla and clean earth instantly invading my senses once more. God, whatever perfume that is, it really does a number on me every fucking time.

Even so, I reached out, trying not to look too clumsy as my fingertips brushed against the bare, warm skin of her upper back. The barest of shivers ran through her the second my skin made contact with hers and I nearly groaned, but instead, I let my eyes slide shut and gripped the tiny metal pull of the zipper, carefully guiding it up until it locked in place.

When I opened my eyes again, they landed on hers in the reflection, and in my periphery, I could see her chest heaving with shallow, short breaths. She focused on me, but neither of us said anything as we stood there, just staring at each other for a beat until I finally remembered to take a step back.

“There,” I said gruffly. “You’re all set.”

She let out a long, slow breath. “Thank you.”

“Yeah. No problem. Just, uh, what are you supposed to be dressed up as?” I asked. “According to the invite, this is a costume party.”

Alicia turned around to face me, her jaw set into a firm, rigid line and her eyes suddenly blazing. “My entire life right now feels like one big costume, so I suppose I’m dressed as just another rich lady who’s married to a future billionaire. How’s my performance so far?”

I barked out a short laugh, caught completely off guard by the sarcastic bite in her tone, but shit. That had actually been funny. “It’s incredible. You nailed it.”

She didn’t smile, instead just staring at me with a strange, guarded hostility that seemed off. While we were a long way from even friendly, I hadn’t felt outright hostile vibes from her for a while until now. I also hadn’t seen much of her for the last couple of days, though.

Quickly skirting past me now that she was dressed, she strode out of the room before I could ask what was wrong, and a second later, my phone vibrated with a text from our driver. The car was outside, which meant the shit show was officially about to get underway.

Alicia was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, those hazel eyes carefully avoiding mine as I jogged down and pulled open the door for her. Tasha wasn’t here, which meant it was just the two of us, but she still didn’t say a word as she stepped across the threshold and made her way down to the car.

She didn’t say anything on the ride across town either, the atmosphere inside the luxury sedan Alex had sent thick and almost suffocating from the tension winding through the air. It sort of made sense, though. Tonight, the library would be a battlefield of sorts. Maybe this was what it felt like to prepare to enter one.

When we finally pulled up at the curb after waiting our turn in a long, snaking line of equally luxurious cars, I glanced out the window to see the entrance doors bathed in deep blue and gold spotlights, and I braced myself for the hit I knew would come the second the valet opened the door.

As always, cameras flashed behind the velvet rope as I stepped out of car, but I ignored them, simply offering Alicia my arm and marching her straight into the marble lobby without stopping to pose for pictures or answer any of the questions the press hurled my way.

Hundreds of Chicago’s wealthiest citizens were already milling about, champagne flutes in their hands and their faces hidden behind glittering, feathered masks. All the better to hide behind, my dear.

I sighed, but we’d barely even cleared the doors when Alicia let go of my arm and started turning away from me. Gently grabbing her hand mid-turn, I tugged her back to my side and frowned. “Where are you going?”

“To work,” she said, inclining her head toward the edge of the room where a few library staff members were coordinating the catering trays. “Marcus told me earlier that they’re going to need help tracking the silent auction sheets.”

“Alicia, no,” Jane interrupted out of the blue, appearing between us with a warm smile on her lips. “You’re not an employee tonight, remember? You’re a guest, attending the gala as a patron. Marcus can handle the clipboards. I’ll send someone from the foundation to lend a hand if he needs it, but you’re coming with me. I want to introduce you to the board.”