Chapter 30
thirty
. . .
Grant
"Vanity Fair's here, along with The Hollywood Reporter and Variety," Lucas murmurs, somehow scanning the room while appearing completely focused on our conversation. "Deadline is still asking about the reshoot schedule from your little stunt at the wrap party."
The annual Teddy Bear Gala has transformed this industrial warehouse into a whimsical dreamland that walks the line between childlike wonder and black-tie sophistication.
Oversized paper lanterns float beneath the exposed beams like luminous clouds while strings of twinkling lights weave between towering sculptures made entirely of teddy bears.
The wait staff glides through the growing crowd with champagne flutes garnished with cotton candy wisps. Wyatt and Jake maneuver around them to join us.
"Gentlemen." I adjust my bowtie as they grab glasses from the tray. "How's the planning going for the Manmorial Weekend?"
"Jake's set us up at this incredible villa," Wyatt says, clapping his friend on the shoulder. "Private beach, personal chef, the works."
"The chef's wasted on you," Jake snorts, nodding to Wyatt as he throws back his glass of champagne. "Last time we went anywhere, you survived on protein bars and spite."
"Some of us appreciate the finer things," I say, thinking of how much I've enjoyed cooking with Sophia lately. A smile tugs at my lips before I can school my expression.
Jake's eyebrow ticks up with keen interest, but he keeps his observations to himself. Wyatt's too busy watching the entrance for Blair to notice my comment.
"Speaking of food," Jake says, "Lauren's been obsessing over this caterer for weeks. He's some hotshot that was featured on Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. Says they better not screw up the salmon the wives rave about, or heads will roll."
I catch Wyatt rolling his eyes as Jake diverts his attention to the entrance—I suspect to watch for the aforementioned Lauren.
Lucas takes a sip of his drink and then pulls me aside. "When Geneva arrives, introduce her to Sophia immediately. It'll look weird if you don't, given she's staying at your place and helping with Hazel. Keeping things natural is our best…"
The words fade into background noise as Sophia enters the room in a midnight blue dress that seems to have been poured over her body.
Her skin shimmers like moonlight against a dark sky.
Her hair is down tonight in loose, natural curls that cascade like a seductive waterfall.
It's swept dramatically to one side and held in place by a delicate diamond pin that catches the light with every subtle movement.
I can't look away. It's impossible.
She's mesmerizing—not just beautiful, but alive.
Her eyes spark with an infectious joy, taking in the room with a curiosity that makes her more radiant than any perfectly poised socialite.
When she smiles, it's genuine—reaching her eyes, lighting up her entire face.
She's turning heads without even trying, completely unaware of the effect she's having on everyone around her.
I force myself to look away, to remember where we are. Who we are. But God, it's the hardest thing I've done all year.
"Grant?" Lucas is watching me too carefully. "Did you hear what I said about introducing Sophia and Geneva?"
"Yeah, of course." I haven't heard a word because Sophia's making her way toward us and I have to remember how to act like I don't get to see her naked, like I don't know exactly how she looks underneath me, how my name sounds on her lips.
"Mr. Hall," she says formally, making my dick twitch. "Lucas. Beautiful event."
"Ms. Ford," I manage to reply with what I hope is an appropriately professional smile. "We're all looking forward to your speech tonight."
There's so much I want to say—about how stunning she looks, about how much I've missed her today, about Geneva. But we're surrounded by people, the press, and the pressure to maintain appearances.
"Grant!"
Geneva's voice carries across the room, and heads turn. They always do. She's wearing something silver and flowing, and the flashbulbs start immediately as she makes her way to us.
"There's my favorite ex," she says, pulling me into a hug. "And you must be Sophia! I've heard so much about you from Hazel."
I watch Sophia's face carefully as Geneva pulls her into a hug and see the slight tension in her smile as more cameras turn our way.
"Is this a Grant-Geneva reunion?" Lauren calls out. "Give us a pose, just like old times!"
I might understand Wyatt's disdain for Lauren a little more. Of all the things to say.
Geneva laughs it off easily. "Please, we're much better as friends. Besides"—she turns to Sophia—"I hear you're the new star in Grant's life. Professionally speaking, of course. However, Hazel won't stop talking about your acting lessons. It's all 'Sophia says' this and 'Sophia showed me' that."
"She's a natural," Sophia says smoothly, but I can see the uncertainty in her eyes. I step closer, not touching her but hopefully close enough that she can feel what I can't say.
"It's so refreshing," Geneva continues, placing her hand on Sophia's arm—a genuine gesture.
"Finding someone in this industry who's real.
Grant's always been particular about who he lets into Hazel's life, so the fact that you're staying at the house, helping with rehearsals? It really speaks volumes."
I see Lucas stiffen. The press members scribble frantically.
"Speaking of rehearsals," I cut in, "Sophia's presenting soon. We should probably—"
"Oh, of course!" Geneva beams. "We'll catch up later. I want to hear all about this project you two are working on."
Lucas smoothly steps in to redirect the press, but what's done is done. Something about the way they're watching us—I can almost see the way their heads are working on the angles they can spin.
I walk her toward the stage near the front of the room and try to apologize, but she stops me.
"I need to get ready. Can we talk after?"
I can't tell if she's upset or nerves have her, so I just nod. I watch her step behind the makeshift platform before I head back over to the bar.
From my spot at the back of the ballroom, I watch Sophia take the stage. The lights soften around her as she approaches the microphone, and even from here, I can see how the audience leans forward, drawn in by her invisible magnetism.
"The children at Project Teddy Bear," she begins, her voice clear and strong, "have become my greatest teachers.
" She pauses, and a gentle smile touches her lips.
"In Hollywood, we love to talk about bravery.
About diving into challenging roles and tackling difficult subjects.
But true courage? I see it every day in those hospital rooms. I see it in these incredible kids who've faced battles no child should have to fight yet somehow wake up each morning with hearts wide open, ready to love and trust and hope again. "
She glances down at her notes but doesn't need them.
The words flow from somewhere deeper. "What amazes me most is their pure, unshakeable belief in possibility.
They don't let fear of falling stop them from reaching for the stars.
They don't let past hurts keep them from opening their hearts to new joy.
While we adults spend so much time building walls to protect ourselves, these children remind us what it means to live with real courage, to chase your dreams with your whole heart, no matter the odds. "
Her eyes find mine in the crowd—just for a moment, but it's enough to stop my breath.
"These children show us that sometimes the bravest thing we can do is simply believe.
Believe in magic. Believe in miracles. Believe that some things are worth the risk of any pain that could follow.
Because, in the end, isn't that what makes life beautiful?
Not the chances we calculated perfectly, but the leaps of faith we took when our hearts knew it was right. "
The applause is thunderous, but I barely hear it. My mind is racing as pieces fall into place. Lucas was right. We need to get ahead of the press narrative. But more than that, Sophia's words echo in my head. Some things are worth the risk despite the pain that could follow.
I've spent so long protecting myself, protecting Hazel, calculating every risk, but maybe it's time to be brave. I pull out my phone.
ME
We need to talk tomorrow. About Sophia. About getting ahead of things.
LUCAS
Finally. I'll be in your office at 9am.
Twenty minutes later, I find Sophia in a quiet alcove off the main ballroom, looking out at the LA skyline. The sounds of the gala feel distant here. I step up behind her, and I'm surprised when she speaks.
"Why didn't you tell me she'd be here?" she asks quietly, not looking at me.
I wrap my arms around her and relax when she leans into me. "I don't know," I admit. "I thought about it. Kept picking up my phone to text you. Maybe…" I trail off, not sure how to finish that sentence.
"Maybe what?" Her voice is soft and vulnerable in a way she rarely allows herself to be.
"Maybe I was afraid for my two worlds to collide," I whisper.
She turns in my arms and brings her hands up to my face to trace my jaw before pulling me closer and eventually pressing her lips to mine.
The kiss is delicate but quickly turns eager.
Her fingers twist in my hair, and my hands slide down her hips and around the swell of her ass as my dick turns to steel.
"Grant," she moans.
I search my memory for any place we can escape to undetected, but there's just too much risk someone will see us. We're already taking a chance by making out like teenagers in a dark corner.
I break the kiss and place my forehead on hers.
"God, Sophia, everything about you is perfect. I'll never get enough of you. I can't stay away."
"I'm staying at the Four Seasons tonight. With the girls."
"Oh." My chest feels tight. One night shouldn't feel like this much of a loss.
"I promised them a girl's night."
I nod. "It's ok. We can survive one night apart," I joke.
She leans her head into my chest as she groans like she's not sure she will survive, and that makes my heart skip a beat.
"We should get back out there, or people are going to figure out we're both missing, and that's how rumors start," she says, straightening her dress.
I laugh as I follow her down the hallway, but she's not wrong.
"Grant?" She turns slightly toward me. "Geneva seems lovely. I can see why you're such good friends."
"Sophia…" I catch her hand, just for a moment, hidden in the shadows of the alcove. "Before I forget to tell you, you look beautiful tonight."
She squeezes my fingers once before letting go.
I watch her walk away, elegant and poised, everything a leading lady should be—and everything I'm falling for.