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“What do you mean?” Gia asks, seemingly amused by my statement. “You planned it, of course it’s fabulous. I knew this was your calling, that you were wasting away at that receptionist desk at Apollo Sole. No offense, Leo.” She pats him on the chest.
He shrugs casually. “None taken. I agree wholeheartedly.”
“Well, thank you. Honestly, Kay was a big help, too. He has the organizational vision for stuff like this.”
Saying the words hurt. I nearly choked on them, but it wasn’t a lie. Instinctually, I find myself looking for him.
Gia reaches for my hand, drawing my attention back to her. “Nyla’s looking for you, by the way. She has something she wants to ask you.” She nods toward a table at the front, where I see the happy couple, heads inclined toward each other, laughing about something.
“I’ll make my way over to her. See you around,” I tell Leo and Gia, but they’re already making eyes at each other as Gia straightens his jacket collar. Leo leans down to leave a prolonged kiss on the edge of her mouth, and I look away, making my way across the floor toward Nyla.
As I approach, Nyla catches my eye. “Just the woman I’m looking for!” she says excitedly, clearly already tipsy on champagne. But she’s beaming with happiness, as is Kieran, and she’s the epitome of beauty tonight, with her long dark hair swept onto one shoulder in a twist, wearing an elegant navy dress that accents her tanned skin beautifully. “Come, come,” she pats the chair next to her, “I have a question for you.”
“So I hear,” I say, hoping to get my hands on some champagne myself so I can join all of this good mood revelry. I could use some of it.
“You did perfect on the party, Talia. Thank you.” Nyla leans in for a tight hug. Beside her, Kieran only watches Nyla. He gives me the briefest nod in greeting. We’ve only ever encountered each other in passing, but there’s some kind of acknowledgement behind his nod that wasn’t there before. Nyla continues before I can make sense of it. “We’ve decided to elope next weekend. Here, on the patio overlooking the beach.”
“Wow,” I say, a little shocked. The patio project is still in progress, on its way to becoming a wedding venue, but I guess Nyla’s eager. “Congratulations! I’m so happy for you two.”
Kieran slides an arm over Nyla’s shoulders, and my heart aches. He resembles his brother in a way that forces me to look away from his equally handsome face.
“And I want you to be a bridesmaid.” Nyla’s cheeks are pink, but the look in her eyes is genuine.
I grab her hands. “It would be anhonorto be a bridesmaid.”
“Perfect! Now Kay has a match for the bridal party.”
“Wh-what?” I stutter. Kieran takes a suspiciously long drink from his champagne flute, avoiding my gaze. “Wouldn’t he be best man, being your brother and all? And Gia is your maid of honor, of course.”
“Actually, Leo’s my best man,” Kieran clarifies, eyes roaming the room. “It makes sense for Leo and Gia to be paired up, right?”
There’s that hidden context in his eyes again.
They’re plotting, I can feel it.
“So it’s settled then,” Nyla says cheerfully. She leans in close to me, gesturing for me to lean in. “A certain someone hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off you since you walked in.”
I follow Nyla’s gaze to find Kay leaning against the far wall, looking devilishly handsome in an all black suit and satin tie. His eyes are glued to me.
I quickly look away, heat flooding my face.
Managing only to give Nyla a sheepish grin, I rise to my feet with a soft, “Excuse me.” I head across the dance floor full of couples, including Leo and Gia, dancing to the soft, elegant music, already needing a moment of fresh air.
A hand on my waist stops me.
“Talia.”
Chapter Nineteen: Kay
She hates me, and rightfully so.
I don’t have high hopes that I’ll be able to make up for my actions, but I have totry.
Her eyes meet mine with a disdain that could make any man crumble at her feet, including me, but I know I can face the fire she keeps banked within her. I want to see that flame burn, and I don’t care if I’m caught in it.
Talia’s eyes lock on my hand, still on her hip. Her lips part as if she’s about to say something, perhaps to tell me to take my hand off her. I wouldn’t blame her if she did, but my greatest fear rises in me—that she’ll tell me to leave her alone for good. Even though that’s what I told her that day in the club with Jules as a witness, my fingers tighten instinctually on her waist, pulling her to me, and to my surprise, she lets me.
I want to tell her that I only said those cruel things to get her to leave, to protect her, to get her out of there so Jules couldn’t hurt her, so she wouldn’t have to see me at my lowest, but I can’t. Not yet. Right now, there’s too much on the line.
