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Ignoring him, I uncap my water and drink half of it in one go. My chest is so tight the cold makes it ache.
The crowd in the room starts to thicken, the low murmur growing in volume, and I can feel eyes all over me. I distract myself by checking my phone under the table, answering the text from Roy:I can work tomorrow. I need to anchor myself to the promise that there’s a normal life waiting for me on the other side of this.
Victor
I put my hand on the back of Ethan’s chair and lean into his personal space. To the rest of the room, it looks like we’re sharing an intimate moment. They can’t see the flash of disgust that crosses his face every time I get close to him. “So. I was thinking.”
“God help us all.” He looks anywhere but me, focused on sliding his water bottle from one hand to the other and back.
“We should throw this.”
The bottle stops moving. “Huh?”
“You’ve already gotten paid. Just sit here and don’t do anything to stop me.”
“What are you going to do?” His eyes flick to my face. They’re the color of summer sun through a glass of whiskey. Even though he just shaved, his cheeks already look stubbled. He’s soordinary, a dull, rough around the edges day laborer who can’t imagine anything more to life. And he thinks he has the right to judge me.
“That’s not your concern. You’re not part of this family.”
He shakes his head. “If you have beef with your father, settle it somewhere else. I thought you’d be tired of causing a scene in front of the press by now.” He looks over his shoulder, like he’s searching for someone to tattle to.
His body goes rigid when I hook a finger around the side of his jaw and turn his face to mine. “Be still and keep your mouth shut. I have plenty of ways to ruin your life.” Why did I think it was a good idea to tell him in the first place? Sometimes when I’m around him I do things I don’t understand and Ireallydon’t like it.
Before he can answer, the lights come up and my father walks onto the stage in a shower of applause and flashes.
I hate bright places. Nothing good ever happens in the light. Last time I was in front of the press, I hadn’t slept in so long I thought the sun through the skylights was God coming down to burn me alive. Everyone had the same question.
Why?
Why did you do it?
No, really, why?
No matter what words came out of their mouths, the real question was alwayswhy. I was supposed to sayno comment, but I kept messing up and sayingI don’t knowinstead. Eventually I just sat in my chair, forcing my eyes to stay open until my vision was written over with white that turned into a purple smear when I blinked. Part of me hoped I’d go blind.
Something kicks me underneath the table, and I jerk back to the present. My dad’s still talking, spewing marketing bullshit. Ethan slides his water toward me. I ignore him.
As soon as questions are announced, every hand goes up. Gray, standing next to my father, points to a woman in the front row, who turns to me. “So we want to know all about this.” She gestures between Ethan and I. “What a surprise! What does finding love mean to you, after everything that’s happened? And how do you navigate such a complex relationship?”
My mouth opens, ready to ignore the question and go rogue, ruin my father’s day. There’s so much I can say, so many ways to bring this castle down as long as I’m willing to bring myself down with it. I could send this room into chaos with about five words. But just like the thousands of other times I desperately wanted to say those words, they all stick in my throat, choking me.
Then Ethan stirs next to me, taps his mic. Some moron who hasn’t been briefed turns it on for him and the sound of his amplified throat-clearing makes everyone on stage freeze. This isn’t in his script, and no one has any idea what he’s going to say.
“It’s funny.” He props his elbows on the table, scooting closer, his voice deep and a little rough, so different from anything you’d expect to hear in the world of multi-billion-dollar business deals. “I used to have a poster of this guy on my bedroom wall. My cousin and I took swimming lessons because of him. He watched me sleep.” He knows how to pause for laughter even without prompts. “Then, of course, certain controversial events happened.” Gray stirs uneasily. My father is watching Ethan like a hawk.
“And I think what I’ve taken from it after meeting Victor is that it doesn’t matter who you put on a pedestal; they’re going to disappoint you. None of us can be great—most of us can’t even be good. But what I appreciate about comeVa is that it gave us the chance to meet as people, independent of our pasts. Now that Victor’s put in the work to get better and is ready to apologize for his actions—”
Motherfucker.
“—he’s incredibly excited to start a new phase of life in his family’s company by representing the app that brought us together.” He breaks my rule, reaching out and clamping his hand around mine. “You’ll be seeing a lot more of Victor Lang, and I think everyone should give the app a look, too.”
Flushed, he flashes a million-dollar smile and sits back in his seat as the room fills with applause. Gray, looking vaguely stunned, hurries to end the press conference on a high note, even though I haven’t said a damn thing.
As the mics cut out, Ethan leans in and puts an arm around me, like any doting boyfriend would. As I turn and rest my forehead against his, I can see the smug grin playing on his mouth, the defiance in his eyes. “You’re dead.” I tell him with a smile, squeezing his shoulder.
He stands up, brushing himself off. “I’m out of here. I hope the rest of your life is hell.”
Gray ushers us off the stage into a back hallway. “Take a moment, drink some water, then get out there and start circulating.”
I savor the sight of Ethan’s eyes widening. “Did no one tell you about the reception when you were planning your mic drop?” His cocky stature melts as I sidle up and grab his hand to keep mine from shaking. Torturing him is a welcome distraction. “Come on, dear.”
My father appears, impeccable and powerful in a suit that cost five times the rest of ours put together. He’s a tough old bull; no matter how many years pass, he never shows any sign of weakness. Or empathy. Or human emotion. I can feel Ethan twitch as Dad puts a hand on his shoulder. “Good job, son. I don’t appreciate the improvisation, but you earned your pay.” His eyes flick over me like I’m not there, and he disappears in the direction of the lobby.
