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Jace must see everything on my face. He takes a step back and sticks his hands into his shorts pockets. “I’ll dial it down.”
Hal laughs.
I lose all patience with him. “Go away, okay?”
He does, but not without one last remark. “You have to stay until midnight at the very least. Like Cinderella.”
“Will you stop it with the princess references? Go.”
Laughing, Hal leaves. Too many gossip-hungry eyes are trained on me. I turn my back on them. “I love attention,” I sing under my breath.
Jace offers me his hand. “Don’t love it. Commandeer it.”
He makes me laugh, and I bet that was his intent from the start. I take his hand and return to him—he’s my shelter from the wind if nothing else.
We get the food and claim a blanket on the edge of the lawn. A picnic at night. What a genius idea. Adventurous too, given the occasional gusts of wind that attempt to fling our food at us. And what food! We’re offered small silver bowls and white plates to fill with finger delicacies that rival Reese’s cooking skills. Bite-sized veggie cheeseburgers and shoestring fries with the most delicious, herby seasoning I’ve ever had. Miniature apple pies, strawberry tarts, and chocolate cakes. Fresh, tender sushi and crispy veggies with a spicy dip. I snapped a photo of the snack board because Pinterest is only dreaming of such a pattern of dried fruits, paper-thin cheese slices, shiny grapes, and candied nuts. I’m used to fancy, but this party makes me feel like a peasant. My only salvation is that everyone wears pretty simple outfits—jeans, skorts, pretty but not over the top shirts. No one seems to be dressed to impress. Other than me.
“Do you mind if I join you?” A girl with a camera hanging off her neck sits next to Jace.
He responds, “Not at all. Are you feeling good? It’s getting late.”
She beams a smile at him. “I took a nap earlier. I’ll be fine.” She studies me.
It’s a miracle I don’t choke on my apple pie.
It’sher.
His Juliette.
I didn’t expect this. The way Jace turns somber and aloof when he talks about her, I’ve assumed she’s no longer in his life.
“It’s the traitor friend.” I bite my lip, but it’s too late, of course. The words are out.
She puts her single bowl down and turns to Jace, who glares death at me.
“Sorry,” I mouth to him, not her. She shouldn’t be here. She can be in the same room with him, of course. Seeing as they’re still in the same industry, it would be hard to avoid. But she broke his heart, and she dares to act like everything’s okay?
A member of the catering staff comes around, offering us more flutes with water and lemonade. We each take one and feign deepest interest in quenching our thirsts.
“Where’s Shane?” Jace asks her.
“Right here.” Project Viper’s guitarist drops on the other side of Jace, who although doesn’t scowl, still pauses for a second before he resumes eating. Or he could be still mad at me.
“Hi, Laurel,” Shane greets me. “I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to say hello earlier.”
Juliette’s gaze snaps to him. “You know each other?”
“Yes. I had the privilege to be introduced at Bjornson’s a while ago.” He drains his whole flute in one go, oblivious to our invisible undercurrents.
“You never told me.” She swirls a few grapes, the only food she has, in her bowl.
“I thought Jace did.”
They assault him with demanding looks. I wish to disappear and take him with me. Jace smiles, but he doesn’t look back at either of them. This whole situation is more awkward than a pile of baby owls stuck in that stage where half of their bodies are still covered in fluff but the rest is bursting with proper feathers. While baby owls are adorable and funny, this is neither.
Juliette pops one of the grapes into her mouth and spits it out into a napkin. “This is disgusting.” Groaning, she uses Jace’s shoulder to heave herself to a standing position and storms off. She found the weirdest excuse to break free from this mess.
“Juliette!” Shane starts rising from his seat.
