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Chapter 6
Rowan
Having Grace by myside has me thinking that maybe these shindigs aren’t so bad, after all. Usually, I’d be brooding in a corner, irritated by a majority of the pretentious guests.
Tonight, I’m thoroughly entertained. I’ve been quietly informing Grace about the people on the guest list—who they are, what they do, and some of their juicy, not-so-well-kept secrets. I hear a lot of gossip at these things because nobody knows who I am, so I’m pretty much invisible.
Grace’s little snickers when I share something scandalous are more entertaining than the drab music that’s playing. A few times, I veer away from the interesting tidbits I’ve learned about our polite company and compliment her on how amazing she looks.
When I whisper in her ear about the dirty things I’m thinking about doing to her, she blushes from the root of her hair. She’s swatted me with her purse and hissed at me to “Behave” at least three times.
All in all, it’s not a terrible night. I glance at Grace with gratitude. She draws out my playful side, a side I didn’t even know existed. Sipping champagne, she watches me.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
I smile and nod. She’s always checking in, and I like it.
“We’ve been here for an hour, and no one realizes who you are,” she muses. “I’m still trying to figure outwhy. It makes no sense.”
“Just wait for it,” I tell her with a small smile.
Her eyebrows pucker.
Resting a hand on her lower back, I announce, “Come on, let’s grab something to eat.”
Grace and I mostly keep to ourselves while chatter goes on around us. Finally, the time comes for her to learn precisely how I stay anonymous. A woman smiles at me from across the room and waves. I smile back as she teeters over.
“Who’s that?” Grace asks.
“Cheryl Bardot. She’s married to Edward Bardot, the second wealthiest person in California.”
“Impressive. Who’s the first?”
One corner of my lips quirks up. “Thanks to Granddad, that would be me.”
Grace chuckles. “Right.”
“Adam!” Cheryl chirps. “You made it.”
“Adam?”Grace hisses under her breath, eyeing me with suspicion.
“Just roll with it. I’ll explain later.”
“How are you, Cheryl?” I bend to her level so she can give me her usual air kisses.
It was only a matter of time before Cheryl saw me and ran over to chat. I’ve encountered the sixty-seven-year-old woman at quite a few of these parties, and she’s taken a liking to me.
“I’m fine, dear. What a relief to see you here. I’m sick of just about every other face in this room. I’d rather be getting drunk at bingo night, but Edward always drags me to these things.” She sighs dramatically.
I laugh. This is why I like Cheryl. She’s always as bored in these settings as I am.
