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Running late. Meet you at the party.
I exhale in relief that he seems to have eased off tracking my every move, and that I’ll have time to prepare alone for the event tonight. I’ll be on display to all of Sebastian’s colleagues and family, and I’m determined to make an impact.
And bring every conflict between them to a boil.
* * *
Back at the house,I get ready for the party, styling my hair, doing my makeup, and picking an outfit from the half-dozen gorgeous dresses I picked up at London’s best boutiques. I deliberate between demure pink silk, and dramatic burgundy red, before selecting the red. I’m tired of playing the innocent all day, and my instincts tell me, Sebastian will want to turn heads tonight.
And this dress? It’s a head-turner, for sure: a long, strapless satin gown, slit to mid-thigh, with a classic Hollywood vibe. Pairing it with sky-high matching heels and diamond earrings, I leave my hair down in waves. I remove my bandages from my wrists; the scars are still visible, but I cover them with two chunky cuffs in hammered gold, so they’re hidden out of sight.
There. I check out my reflection in the mirror, pleased at the glamorous effect. I tell myself that this is all part of my act, blending in with the social elites, but I can’t deny that there’s a small part of me hoping that Sebastian will like the outfit, too.
And not just to keep his obsession with me alive.
The driver arrives right at seven, and I head to the party alone. It’s taking place at a luxurious hotel, and I’m ushered out into the huge, private courtyard, which is already packed with guests.
“Champagne?” a staff member materializes with a tray.
I take one and sip, absorbing the scene. The courtyard is nestled amongst the tall skyscrapers and office buildings, like a small piece of history with its manicured hedges and crumbling stonework. It’s been decorated with a private dancefloor and lavish floral arrangements, and there’s a full bar and jazz band playing, and staff circulating with delicious-looking canapés, as the chic, stylish crowd mingles and chats.
I take a deep breath. Despite looking the part, I’m way out of my comfort zone among these people, and it’s harder to fake my way through it without Sebastian at my side. So, I head for the buffet spread instead, and kill time filling a plate with food, even though I know I’m too tense to eat.
“Avery!”
I hear my name and turn in time to see a familiar face across the courtyard. It’s Lulu, the journalist I met last month, and my first official friend in London.
At least, as much a friend as I can have, when I’m scheming about Sebastian’s every move.
“Hi!” I wave back, and she weaves her way through the crowd towards me. It’s not easy, considering how packed the space is, but she arrives with a sigh.
“Oh my God, talk about a scrum. I nearly elbowed the Duchess of Sussex in the neck!” Lulu gives me a hug, and air kisses, beaming. She’s wearing a cute black cocktail dress, with a sparkly fascinator headband. “You look stunning!”
“Thanks,” I smile, striking a little pose. “I figured, why not? Drink?” I ask, grabbing her a glass.
“Just the one,” Lulu demurs. “Technically, I’m working. Covering the party for the society pages,” she explains. “My editor warned me to keep my mouth shut, and blend into the scenery.”
“How’s that going?” I ask, smiling at her infectious energy.
“Too well!” she exclaims. “I’ve had three people ask me to fetch more canapés.”
I laugh. “Think of it as being deep undercover,” I advise. “You never know what people will say in front of the staff.”
“Ooh, good point. So… Is Sebastian here?” Lulu asks, eagerly looking around.
I hide a smirk. As much as I enjoy Lulu’s company, I can’t forget that she has an agenda, too. She’s longing to get promoted off the society pages and be a more serious journalist… Which means she’s got her eyes open for a scoop, too.
“He’s meeting me here. Got tied up at work.”
“That’s right,” Lulu’s eyes widen. “The Dunleavey takeover. How is that working out?”
She tries to sound casual, but I can tell, she’s angling for information.
I give a careless shrug, eating a canapé. “Oh, who knows? I glaze over when Seb starts talking business, you know, it’s all merger this, and layoffs that. So dull.”
“Right.” Lulu manages a laugh. “The worst!”
I want to laugh, both of us pretending we couldn’t care less about the high stakes of Wolfe Capital and the finance world, when really, we both are dying to uncover a scandal.
