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“Hey.” She sounds exasperated in only one word.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m going to be a little late getting to the party. There was an emergency with my niece, so I have to take her and my sister to the hospital.”
“Is she okay? Do you want me to come to the hospital too?”
“No,” she says. “It’s okay, she just had an allergic reaction. I’m dropping them off, and my brother-in-law’s going to pick her up when they get her back to normal. As I said, it’s nothing serious, I’ll just be maybe half an hour late.”
“I’ll save you a drink,” I promise.
“Thank you. See you soon!”
I hang up the phone and sit back in my seat. I know she said it was nothing, but I can’t help feeling a little worried about her niece. Allergic reactions are a big deal, and from what I remember her telling me about the girl, she’s not very old. Poor thing must be scared out of her mind about this. It’s a little reassuring knowing that they’re on they’re way to the hospital, though. They’ll be able to take care of her and get her back to normal.
The driver pulls up outside of the hotel and announces that we’ve arrived. After paying him and throwing in a generous tip, I climb out and straighten out my suit. The man at the front of the door asks for my name, and when he sees that I’m one of the authors signed with Midnight, he ushers me inside and points me to where I need to go.
I’ve never been to a rooftop party, so I’m not sure what I was expecting, but when the doors of the elevator open and I see just how beautifully everything is decorated, I can’t help but smile. Orbs of light are strung up above, and the tables are decorated with candles flickering light. Everything from the burgundy table clothes to the gold plates and utensils looks expensive. The smooth jazz music that the live band is playing only solidifies the theme; this is a sexy, grown-up gathering to celebrate a new publishing house and its authors.
I see Kristen, the one in charge of Midnight, approach me with a wide smile and a glass of wine in her hands. “Liam! I’m so happy you could make it. We were wondering if you were going to show up. I know how busy you are working on book two.”
“I wouldn’t miss this for anything,” I say with a forced smile. I haven’t talked to Kristen all that much, but from what Harlow’s told me, she’s a good boss, if a bit too enthusiastic at times. When she hands me the glass of champagne, I thank her and take a sip.
“Come, come. I have some people I want you to meet,” she says. I follow her toward a group of men and women that are all in the middle of a lively conversation. She introduces me as one of Midnight’s most important authors, and I can’t help but cringe. Intense praise like this never sits well with me. Obviously, I like being told I did well when it comes to my writing, but I’ve had words thrown around like “influential” and “legendary” before. I accept the compliments, but I refuse to fully believe them. I’m just someone that writes. Prolific isn’t ever something I’d consider myself.
For a while, I stand in the semicircle with these people, making small talk and giving small hints about Dirty Little Secrets and its sequel. No one in this group but Kristen and I know what it’s all about and seeing how interested the others are is exciting. When they begin to discuss another topic, I survey the rest of the party, looking for Harlow. She still hasn’t shown up, and I’m starting to worry about her. Did she bail on this? Maybe the entire story about her niece was an excuse to skip the party and avoid meeting in person.
I eventually excuse myself to use the restroom back in the hotel. After I finish up and wash my hands, I pull out my phone and redial her number. I don’t want to bother her, but rather touch base and make sure things haven’t gotten worse.
“Hey,” she answers breathlessly. “I’m so late, I know. I actually just called Kristen to let her know that I’m still with Katie. My brother-in-law is on his way now, so I should be there before ten. Ugh, I feel like such an asshole.”
“Harlow, no,” I say. “You’re not an asshole. Family emergencies are more important than some fancy ass parties for work. I just want to make sure you’re okay, and your niece is feeling a little better.”
“She’s okay, she’s just scared that the bumps all over her are never going to go away. I called in the prescription for her, which is why Andrew is taking so long. I wanted him to pick that up before he got here. Plus, he likes to talk with the doctor himself. Kind of a control freak. Sorry, I’m rambling.”
I chuckle and lean against the bathroom sink. “Your rambling is adorable. Tell Katie I said I hope she feels better. I’m still looking forward to seeing you tonight.”
“Me too,” she says. The words come out like she’s smiling.
“I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”
“Okay.”
My nerves are a little calmer now that we’ve spoken. She’s coming. She hasn’t stood me up yet. Once I regain my confidence, I return to the party and head to the bar for a drink. I order a glass of scotch and take a seat on the stool, sighing. The party’s only just started, and I’m already in need of a break.
Just when I begin to enjoy my drink, I feel an arm drape over my shoulder and smile. Harlow. I turn to look up at her, only, it isn’t her.
“Destiny?” I gasp in shock.
She grins that seductive smile at me that I always loved. She looks fantastic, her dark black hair styled in curls and the plunging neckline on her red gown helping her emit an even more attractive aura. For a moment, I’m too stunned to say anything else but her name. Destiny slides into the seat next to me.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she snickers.
“I… I’m just shocked that you’re here. Why are you here?” The last I heard, Destiny was not only writing for Hart’s biggest competitor, Hourglass Publishing but working on their staff. When we first started dating, she’d just recently gotten a contract from them, and over the years, she’s grown to be one of their most successful authors.
“I have a few friends that are going to be here. Plus, I thought it might be fun to see you again. It’s been a while.” She reaches forward and steals my glass of scotch, finishing the last of it off. With a hand gesture, she orders two more. “C’mon, Liam,” she says to me. “Don’t look so disappointed to see me.”
“I’m not disappointed, it’s just been a long time.”
