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“Stunning.” I leaned down and pressed a kiss to her temple, careful not to ruin any time she had spent putting on her face. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the room.”
She huffed. “We haven’t even walked in yet.”
“I don’t have to.”
Her eyes softened and her shoulders dropped. I hadn’t noticed she was so nervous. She had no reason to be. On the other side of those doors was very much her world. Prestige and stature. Prominence and dedication. No matter how hard I tried to fit in, I never would. No matter how hard I worked, no matter how much I sacrificed, it would never be good enough, because I worked in porn. I’d learned that early on. Maybe that’s why I didn’t try so hard. My efforts would be futile.
Or maybe I was lazy and overprivileged. Not like Everly. She came from privilege, but she still worked hard. Although I had a sneaking suspicion that her efforts were even more futile than mine.
With my hand at the small of her back, I guided her through the doors into the lion’s den.
I’d been to the hotel before. My mother had taken me here when I was younger while she filmed one of her titles. I played
videogames during the day while she worked and at night she took me out for hamburgers and ice-cream sundaes. Although it felt like a million years ago, the building was eerily familiar because it reminded me of my mother—of the woman I missed every day since she’d left me.
The suite was already flooded with guests, all with drinks in their hand. From the tension rumbling in my stomach, I knew I needed one, too.
I always got a weird vibe I just couldn’t put my finger on whenever I was at one of these parties. There was a mixture of decent human beings my mother had worked with and new individuals who felt it was appropriate to belittle the way my family made their money.
Like clockwork, the moment we stepped up from the sunken foyer, all eyes were on us. Some woman in the corner even covered her mouth and murmured something to the man next to her. They could at least pretend like they weren’t talking about me. Sometimes I felt like shouting out. Presenting myself in a manner befitting a porn king. But then I remembered my mother and the fact that she probably put up with much worse.
Everly’s fingers squeezed mine. “Everyone is staring,” she whispered through a fake smile.
I leaned over, keeping my attention focused on the rest of the room. “How does it feel to be the center of attention?”
A moment of awe passed over her face then a smile spread from ear to ear. She pulled her shoulders back and let the guests have their fun.
I spotted the bar in the corner. I gripped her hand, probably squeezing her fingers a little tighter than I should have, and pulled her along. I ordered us two glasses of champagne while admiring the spectacular view of Lake Ontario in front of me.
She leaned with her back against the bar, taking in her surroundings, and immediately took a sip. Maybe I wasn’t the only nervous one. Maybe she was just as nervous in these situations.
“This is nice and all, and believe me, I love this dress and having an opportunity to wear it, but…”
There were those thoughts again.
“Wouldn’t the money be better spent actually helping the people who rely on the charity?”
“Don’t mistake charitable giving to be selfless, sweetheart. The heavy hitters in this room might give a lot, but they expect recognition and prestige in return.” I leaned in closer. “Not to mention a big fat tax refund.”
“But not you.” It wasn’t a question.
“Not me.”
This charity was important to my mother, so it was important to me. It was the only thing I’d ever followed through with that mirrored her exhausting need to give back.
I swiped my fingers across her forehead and secured a flyaway strand of her hair behind her ear. “What’s going on in that brilliant head of yours?”
“Why this charity?”
It was a valid question. One I never understood the answer to, because I’d never been given it.
“My family has always donated. I’m just carrying on the tradition.”
Some people came up to us while we maintained our position at the bar. A few for me, a few against. Despite being on her third glass of champagne, Everly was smart enough to notice the difference. The tone, the icy stares, the air of pomp and circumstance that wafted between us whenever someone thought they were better than me. But I played the game, just like they did, smiling and making small talk. Just like my mother would have wanted.
Until Mrs. Dashill made her way over. “Max, dear, so lovely to see you.”
She gave me an air kiss on both cheeks.
