Chapter 30
GABBY
The ballroom’s practically buzzing as we step back inside, music swelling, champagne and laughter bubbling around us in equal measure.
Angie’s phone buzzes, and she reaches into her clutch to check it. She glances at the screen, then cranes her neck to look around the ballroom.
“Johan’s looking for me,” she says. She nods toward a cluster of suits near the bar, where Johan appears to be holding court, his expression all business.
“Duty calls,” she says. “Did I tell you Johan wants me to head up marketing for Dandelion?”
“Are you serious? Ange, that’s huge.”
She smiles and shrugs. “And it’s exciting. I’ll tell you all about it later. Right now, I need to make an appearance before these dudes start assuming I’m just a pretty plus-one.”
“More like the brains of the operation.”
She laughs. “I do have my moments. Anyway, let’s make the rounds and meet up later.”
“Definitely.”
I take a breath, letting the glow of the conversation with Angie wash over me before scanning the room for Sasha. It doesn’t take long for me to spot him. He’s magnetic, impossible to miss. He’s standing near one of the corner lounges, talking to Ruth O’Donnell.
My stomach sinks, but I push the sensation aside. Not a chance in hell I’m going to let her intimidate me.
She looks amazing, as always. Her dress looks custom-made for her, and her diamonds—earrings, bracelet, necklace—catch the light of the chandelier. Her boy toy’s at her side, tall and handsome, a slightly vacant smile on his face.
Sasha’s posture is polite but rigid. Careful civility, as if he’d rather be anywhere else.
I move closer, my heels clicking. Ruth turns her attention to me as I arrive, her eyes sweeping from my hair to my dress to my shoes with clinical precision.
“Gabriella,” she says, a pleased smile on her lips. “We were just discussing the merger. Heard you were apparently quite important in making it happen.
“Nothing apparent about it,” Sasha corrects. “She was instrumental.”
I smirk. “A lot of people worked hard as hell to make it happen.”
Her mouth twists like I’ve said something both adorable and a little stupid.
“Well, I say give credit where credit is due. You’ve done wonders, dear.
And that dress—” She pauses, giving me another once over, her fingertips tapping the stem of her glass, “it really flatters your figure. So few designers can do justice to plus-size formal wear.”
I don’t miss a beat. I’m not in the mood for her bullshit tonight. “I know, right? It’s hard finding designers who can handle real feminine curves. Not that you’d know anything about that.”
The boy toy nearly chokes on his drink. Ruth blinks, caught between offense and disbelief. She was not ready for that.
Sasha’s mouth curves into a faint—but proud—smirk. “Ruth, so lovely as always to see you, but if you’ll excuse us, I have yet to dance with my beautiful date.” He offers me his hand. “Shall we?”
“Let’s.”
I take his hand without hesitation. The band shifts into something slow and jazzy, the kind of music that absolutely demands you dance to it.
On the dance floor, he pulls me close. It’s not a possessive kind of closeness, more one that’s sure of me, of us.
His hand slides to the small of my back, warm and firm through the fabric.
Tingles spread throughout my body, starting between my thighs and moving outward.
I’m still mad at him, but I’ll be damned if his touch doesn’t always manage to do something to me.
“You handled that beautifully,” he says. “Ruth has so few people in her life who can put her in her place.”
“Wasn’t exactly a challenge,” I say. “She’s less scary now.”
He chuckles. “Or maybe you’ve gotten tougher.”
“I guess I’ve had to. Not to mention living with you is basically a crash course in learning how to handle myself. Oh, and there’s the whole dodging gunfire thing. Hard to get mad at mean girl comments when you’ve been through that.”
He leans in. “I like that you’ve gotten tougher. But be careful not to get too tough.”
I grin. “Why? Worried I’d take over?”
He laughs softly, genuinely. “No. Because I like you soft. In all ways.”
For a moment, it’s just us. The rest of the world fades away, and for a short time, I manage to forget the complications invading our lives.
The song ends too soon. As it fades, I remember the unspoken words between Sasha and me, the anger and possessiveness he showed. I remember how he hasn’t tried to make it right. And I remember the danger and violence living just outside the walls of this place.
Maybe within them, too.
Then, like a goddamn bad penny, Ruth reappears. Her lipstick looks redder, her smile tighter. I get the sense she’s spent the length of the song figuring out how to get back at me. Sasha leads me off the dance floor, and Ruth makes a beeline to us.
“Something I can help you with, Ruth?” Sasha asks.
The smile stays on her lips. “I was just wondering something, love. You and Gabriella have gotten so close. It really makes me wonder, have you told her the truth?”
The words land like glass shattering. The truth?
Sasha’s whole body changes—shoulders tight, eyes cold. “Not here,” he says. His tone leaves zero room for argument.
“I mean, it’s a reasonable question,” Ruth asks, faux innocence dripping off her words. “There’s so much to the Sasha-Gabby story. I just have to wonder if she knows the finer points.”
Sasha’s eyes flash with anger. For a moment, I have no idea what he’ll do. “Ruth, we’re going to talk about this in private.”
“That’s all I’ve wanted since the evening began, love.”
Sasha doesn’t say another word. Instead, he places his hand on Ruth’s shoulder and steers her toward the far doors.
The boy toy scrambles after them like a confused puppy.
I watch as they make their way, Ruth turning to her date and saying something sharp, then only she and Sasha disappear inside the room.
The doors shut behind them. I scan the room, trying to find Angie or even Johan, but they’re nowhere to be seen. Heat rises up the back of my neck, and I can practically feel people trying not to stare.
Mercifully, I spot a familiar face. Bogdan emerges from the crowd, walking towards me with long strides.
“Come,” he says softly. “Let’s get you a fresh drink.”
I follow him numbly to a quiet corner, anger simmering under embarrassment.
“Have a seat,” he says. “I’m sure he’ll be just a moment.”
Bogdan disappears for a moment, the seconds ticking by. He returns quickly, a glass of something pale pink with a sprig of mint.
“Grapefruit, lime, mint,” he says. “Came up with it on my own.”
I manage a small smile. “You’re getting good at this. You ever think of opening a mocktail bar?”
“I’ll keep it in mind if Sasha ever gets tired of my face.” Bogdan takes a slow, deep breath. He clearly has something he wants to say but isn’t sure if he should.
“Go ahead,” I tell him.
“Listen, I don’t know what happened on the dance floor with you and Ruth and Sasha. And you don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to. But I’m here.”
“Thank you. Seriously. Not sure I’m in the mood to talk, but thanks.”
He nods once, then drifts away.
When he’s gone and I’m alone, I stare into my glass, then bring the rim to my lips for a sip. It’s good, but right now’s one of those moments when I wish it was something harder.
A new anger takes hold of me. Whatever the hell is going on, I’m going to find out, one way or another.
The lies end tonight.