1. Marcie Mathews
CHAPTER 1
MARCIE MATHEWS
SAME NIGHT – PARTY TIME
T onight was my twenty-ninth birthday party, and my nerves were unravelling. Friends and clients from my event planning company, Exquisite Events, filled Glitz—a stunning private club owned by the Rominov family. I had planned the opening event when the club launched, and I adored everything about it—its sophisticated black marble decor, shimmering mirrors, and gilded accents. The place was lavish and exclusive. I usually loved it here, but tonight it wasn’t giving me the same thrill.
This was the night I’d been anticipating for weeks. I should have been in my element, savouring the excitement and basking in the spotlight. But I wasn’t. Two people I cared about most were missing—the ones I needed here. Claire, my best friend, was on her way, but Anton? I didn’t know if he’d even show.
After what happened the other night, maybe it was better if he didn’t. My chest tightened at the thought, the buzz of conversation around me fading into a dull hum.
My crush, Anton DuPont, had friend-zoned me ages ago, a decision I’d reluctantly accepted. But then, a couple of nights ago, we danced, he kissed me, and for two blissful seconds, it felt perfect—until he pulled back, muttering it was a mistake, leaving me stranded on the dance floor, heart shattered. Rejected. And not for the first time. The memories clawed at me as I pretended to laugh at something someone said, clutching my champagne glass like it was my lifeline.
Trying to channel my usual bubbly self, I chatted loudly with my friends Gracie, Sonia, and Eilidh. All of them were expecting and in love, discussing babies and doting partners, and I felt a pang of envy I couldn’t quite hide. They had the kind of love I dreamed of. Meanwhile, my world revolved around a man determined to keep me at arm’s length.
Claire’s arrival saved me. I squealed, hugging her tightly.
“Happy birthday, birthday girl!” she exclaimed, her smile brightening my mood. She held out a pretty gift bag, the sparkly wrapping catching the light. “Where do you want me to put your gift?”
“Beside the bar,” I told her, flicking my hand in the direction as my gaze slipped towards the entrance again, searching, always searching.
“Great, I’ll grab myself a drink while I’m at it. Want anything?” she asked.
“Hell yeah! Hit me up with a double shot of tequila. Actually, just bring the bottle, and we’ll do a round of shots,” I said, flashing a wicked grin.
Claire quirked an eyebrow. “You really want to go there this early? Don’t you think you should pace yourself a bit?”
“I’ll be fine. I need a little liquid courage tonight.” I took a sip of champagne, the bubbles tingling on my tongue. The heavy beats of music pulsed through the air, wrapping around me like a comforting embrace. But still, it did little to settle my nerves.
Her lips pursed. “Everything alright?”
“Fine,” I replied, nodding and forcing a smile. Claire’s eyes narrowed, she knew me too well; tequila was our “trouble with men” drink of choice. But thankfully she didn’t say anything, just turned and headed to the bar.
The pressure of pretending everything was okay was getting to me, but as I glanced around, my heart stopped—Anton had arrived. He was here. My stomach flipped, the grin on my face suddenly genuine, yet a swarm of butterflies danced uneasily in my chest.
“Anton is here, Anton is here,” the annoying little voice in my head sang as my stomach churned with excitement.
Claire returned, setting down the tequila and some shot glasses, but my attention was on Anton as he approached, his gaze meeting mine with a flicker of something unreadable. As he leaned down and brushed his lips against my cheek, an electric current coursed through me and I shuddered in delight. His eyes darkened, and I was sure I saw my own desire reflected there.
“Happy birthday, Marcie. You look beautiful. I hope you like my gift,” he murmured, handing me a small box.
“Thank you,” I said, smiling widely. “What is it?” I asked.
“I’ll let you open it later. I don’t want to spoil the surprise. I will say, they reminded me of your stunning eyes,” he replied.
I raised an eyebrow. “Wow, there is some high praise coming from you tonight, Anton. First beautiful, and now stunning eyes?”
“Both of which are true,” he said, letting his gaze slide over me in appreciation and sending a rush of wetness straight to my core. Oh my!
“Why, I do believe you’re flirting with me, sir,” I said, placing my hand over my heart and batting my eyelids, feigning innocence like some lady from the 19th century.
The sexy ex-soldier’s eyes flared when I called him sir. He liked it, and that revelation sent a shiver of desire through me.
My heart leapt—maybe he’d thought about things, changed his mind. Perhaps he was finally ready to admit our attraction was mutual. My insides did a little happy dance at the thought.
“Sit with me?” I asked, hope slipping into my voice.
His eyes darkened, and I held my breath. Please say yes, please say yes , that little voice chanted, and for a moment I thought he was going to do just that. But then he tensed, his gaze shuttering and he shook his head.
“I need to find Ash. I’ll see you later, Marcie. Enjoy your party,” he said, turning away before I could even respond.
My happiness took a nosedive as frustration threatened to overwhelm me and tears pricked my eyes. Damn that man.
The hope I’d felt when he’d walked into my party shrivelled as he made it obvious he still didn’t want anything more than friendship with me. No matter how much I told myself I had to stop crushing on him, my heart refused to get the memo.
I took a deep breath and tossed back a tequila shot. The alcohol burned going down, a welcome distraction from my turbulent emotions. Anton might’ve been my hero when we met, but tonight, he was my heartbreak.
“Are you okay, honey?” Claire asked, concern etched across her features as she leaned closer, searching my eyes for the truth.
I nodded, but I couldn’t shake off the sadness. Huffing heavily, I closed my eyes and forced a smile.
Claire squeezed my hand. “He’s a bloody fool if he won’t take a chance on a wonderful woman like you,” she said, staring at Anton’s retreating back, her mouth twisted in annoyance.
God, how that fact hurt. Reaching up, I quickly brushed a tear away. This needed to stop. I had to accept that I had been well and truly friend-zoned.
Grabbing another tequila shot, I downed it.
“I know he was your hero, Marcie, but to be honest, he’s been acting like an arse since,” Claire said, as if she’d heard my thoughts.
“No, he hasn’t; it’s my fault that I can’t get over him. He told me right away that he didn’t want a relationship,” I replied, feeling annoyed at having to defend my man.
My man? Shit! I had no right thinking of him like that. He wasn’t my man.
So, why does he often act like he is? a snarky little voice in my head asked. I ignored it.
“It’s not Anton’s fault that I have a massive crush on him.” I sighed.
Let’s face it, that was the truth. Anton had been there for me at a time when I was vulnerable. He’d saved me, and I’d latched onto him. That was down to me, not him. He’d always been friendly and helpful and never led me on. The only person to blame for my feelings was me.
Claire smirked. “You’ve always had a thing for the military type.”
“Hell yeah. Who wouldn’t? All that muscle and danger?” I smiled wickedly and winked. “You have to admit, Anton is gorgeous.”
“Hmm,” Claire replied rather noncommittally.
“Oh, I forgot, you prefer the tall, dark, and dangerous type who hides his danger behind a charismatic smile,” I said, smirking.
“Ha, ha,” she replied, huffing in annoyance at my reference to our friend Luca. Luca had a thing for my bestie, but she had friend-zoned him in a desperate attempt to deny her own secret crush on him. Luca, like a number of our friends, was connected to the Bratva, and even though Claire was a criminal defence lawyer, she refused to get involved with someone she viewed as a criminal. It was dumb, really, but I wasn’t about to tell her that. No way. Claire was known as the Ice Queen at work for a reason. One look from her and the devil ran for cover.
A smirk tugged at the corners of my mouth, but I held it back as I watched her eyes scanning the room. She might pretend not to want Luca, but they say the eyes are the mirror to the soul, and every time Claire looked at him, the intensity of her gaze gave her away.
“Looking for the man himself?” I said in her ear, startling her and making her jump.
“What? No, I was just taking in the atmosphere,” she replied, pursing her lips in displeasure when all I did was grin at her.
What a pair we were—both hooked on men we couldn’t have—Claire because she wouldn’t date the guy despite her interest, and me because the guy wouldn’t date me despite his interest.
Hurt welled inside me, sharp and unrelenting, as I tried to push it back. Gracie and Eilidh laughed at something Sonia had said, their joy a vivid reminder of what I lacked. That pang of jealousy hit again, and my bottom lip wobbled. Why couldn’t I have what they did?
“What’s wrong?” Claire whispered.
I shook my head. “Nothing, I’m fine,” I told her, but it was clear by her frown that she didn’t believe me.
“Let’s get you another drink and mingle a bit. You’re the star of the night!” she chirped.
A forced laugh escaped my lips, hollow and brittle. This celebration should have been joyful, but disappointment draped over me like a heavy shroud. As we moved through the lively crowd, laughter rippled around us, bright and teasing. The air buzzed with energy, a pulse of shared excitement urging me to join in. Yet my heart remained tethered to one man. No matter where I looked, my gaze instinctively sought Anton.
I tried to lose myself in conversations, plastering a smile on my face and nodding at guests’ chatter. But my mind kept drifting back to him. Each glimpse of my sexy soldier sent my pulse racing, longing surging through me. It was as if I stood outside a dream, watching others bask in happiness while I remained trapped in the shadows.
As the evening wore on, Derrick gave me a subtle nod, signalling that it was time for the buffet to open. A deep breath steadied me for what was next. Approaching the microphone, my heart raced, hoping to project confidence despite the alcohol warming my cheeks.
“Hello, everyone!” The steady tone of my voice cut through the ambient noise as I glanced over the crowd, the faces of familiar friends and clients lighting up the room. “I just wanted to thank you all for coming tonight and for being a part of my life. It’s a privilege to celebrate another year with each of you.” A pause allowed me to scan the room for Anton, my voice faltering as I continued. “Every one of you has played a role in making this journey special for me, and I can’t express how much your friendship and support means. Let’s keep making beautiful memories together!”
The applause was warm and inviting, a gentle reminder of the love surrounding me. Derrick shot me a proud grin from the corner, and gratitude swelled within me for his support, though it was fleeting as the hollow ache returned.
To combat the effects of the alcohol, Claire insisted I eat something. Stuffing my face with my favourite pastries—a delightful array of cream-filled éclairs and fruit tarts—each bite provided a fleeting distraction, a momentary escape from the gnawing feeling that Anton would rather stand alone than share a moment with me.
A heavy sigh escaped my lips, the weight of the evening settling back onto my shoulders.
Just then, Claire leaned in, her voice low but conspiratorial. “We’re off to the loo,” she whispered to Gracie, who was deep in conversation with the others at our table. Without waiting for a response, Claire grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the VIP bathroom.
“What’s going on with you and Anton? Spill!” she demanded. I knew she’d figure out there was something more to my upset tonight than simply Anton friend zoning me. I hadn’t told her what had happened between us this week. I usually told her everything and like the best friends we were, we’d spend hours dissecting the situation, but this time I’d kept it to myself, too embarrassed and upset to talk about it.
She tapped her foot and raised her eyebrows, and I knew there was no getting out of it. I sighed in resignation.
“Obviously, I told Anton how much I liked him not long after we met, and he said he didn’t want anything more than friendship. Fine, I accepted that. I really did, Claire, but you know, yourself, he’s been sending really mixed signals ever since he kissed me on New Year’s eve. So, I finally plucked up the courage to ask him out again last week, and he rejected me. Then, when we were out for Derrick and Nick’s engagement meal the other night, Anton kissed me again, and it was great. It really was. We were both panting hard when he broke it off, but then, he mumbled something about it being a mistake, and left. He couldn’t get out of there fast enough,” I told her, on the verge of tears.
“Aw, babe, I’m so sorry!” Claire said, hugging me tight.
“What’s wrong with me, Claire? Why doesn’t he want me?” I sobbed.
“Nothing. There is nothing wrong with you at all. It’s his issue and his loss. You have to stop letting him drag you down. You are a strong, independent, successful woman. You are a great catch. If he doesn’t see that, then that’s his loss, not yours. Now dry your eyes and fix your makeup. This is your night, and I refuse to let him ruin it for you!” she said firmly.
I nodded, sniffing as I grabbed a tissue from the fancy box near the sinks and blew my nose then dabbed my eyes.
“Seems we’re both doomed to obsess over guys we can’t have,” she sighed, doing a comical little dance before rushing into a cubicle. “Got to pee,” she shouted, slamming the door in her hurry to do just that.
I laughed and suddenly felt lighter. I might not have the man I longed for, but I had one heck of a great friend. As I fixed my makeup, I decided that Claire was right. I had to stop letting this thing with Anton interfere with my happiness. Tonight was my night and there was still a couple of hours left before it was over.
“It’s your birthday, screw those guys and their issues. Let’s dance, have some fun, and then get plastered,” Claire said, grinning wickedly.
“Hell yeah!” I replied, matching her grin. This was my party, and I had a reputation for being the life and soul of the celebration, a skill that made me a successful event planner. I should be in my element, not hiding away in a bathroom, pining over a man. “Let’s go tear this place up!”
With each step toward the dance floor, I pushed aside thoughts of Anton, reminding myself that tonight was about celebrating me. My life hadn’t been an easy one, and I’d worked hard to get where I was in my twenty-nine years. I was going to bloody well celebrate it. No more moping around. “Enjoy your party,” Anton had said. Well, I’d do just that. I would enjoy the hell out of my night and show him exactly what he was missing.