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“Please,” Deacon said. “Talk to me.”
“I have nothing to say to you, and if you think you’re going to get me alone somewhere, you’re crazy.”
I marched into the ballroom, to the table to grab my purse.
A cheer went up. The slideshow was still going: a year’s worth of memories and stunts and gorgeous, exotic locales flashed over a dropped screen, flipping one after another.
I glanced around at the others at the table. They were all still there, settling in to watch the show or maybe too drunk to do anything else.
“Tell Noah I’ve gone,” I said, hoping I sounded more put together than I felt.
Logan blinked blearily at me. “You’re leaving? Aren’t you Noah’s assistant?”
Polly rolled her eyes. “No, dude, that’s his girlfriend.”
Something in me moved, a tectonic shift that reordered me like a puzzle whose pieces had been strewn all over and now came together to show the whole.
“I’m a concert violinist,” I said softly. Then again, louder. “I am a concert violinist.”
The others blinked at me. “Come again?”
I didn’t answer; I didn’t owe them anything. I turned on my heel and left the ballroom for the bank of elevators. I jabbed the Lobby button, not permitting myself to feel or think anything until I got back to my room in the townhouse. Or maybe the cab, since I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to make it as far as the townhouse.
As I waited, I cast my gaze around everywhere, to fill my eyes with something besides the image of Noah and Valentina together.
The doors opened on an empty elevator. I took a step, saw a flash of copper, smelled a whiff of whiskey, and then a hand on my back pushed me inside, and Deacon blocked the door as it closed behind him.
chapter thirty-one
Valentina pressed her body to me, and I fell back against the cement wall. Her hands held my cheeks, warm breath on my face, and then soft lips on mine that quickly turned insistent. She smelled wrong. She tasted wrong. Everything about her felt wrong and yet completely familiar at the same time. But I was moving in slow motion. I went to take hold of her wrists, to thrust her from me, when her fingers in my hair found the ridged scars.
She gave a little cry and flinched back.
Charlotte never flinches, I thought blearily. She never does…
“Val, no.” I tried to push her away, but I felt wrung out, boneless. I leaned against the wall and just held her hands until they sank onto my chest. “You have to go. Leave me. Before Charlotte sees…”
“Charlotte?” Valentina stood away from me; I felt the weight of her body lift. “Deacon told me she was only your assistant.” A pause. “He lied?”
“Yeah, he lied.” I closed my eyes, but it made no difference. “Do you see her?”
God, did she see that kiss? Did Deacon set me up?
“She is not here.”
I shook my head, tried to think. “It’s Deacon. He’s fucking with me.”
“I think you’re right,” Valentina said quietly. “He told me you wanted to see me. That you missed me. That you…wanted to try again.”
Lies. All lies.
“What else did he tell you? Where is he?” An ugly, knotted feeling tightened my guts. I felt guilty for the pain in Val’s voice but something close to real fear for Charlotte was making me panic. I cursed myself for drinking so much. I needed a clear head, and I couldn’t think, couldn’t imagine what Deacon was up to.Don’t leave me alone with him, Charlotte had made me promise.
“Christ, help me, Val. Help me find Charlotte. Something’s not right.”
“Yes. Here.”
I took the crook of her arm. It was bony where Charlotte’s was soft. Valentina walked almost too fast for my drunken state, taking me across the deck, yet not fast enough.
