Chapter 19 #2
Okay, maybe the studio tipped off too many paps. It was like stepping into a literal storm of light getting out of the car. Security had them corralled behind metal barriers, but they were loud tonight.
As soon as they saw us, they started asking their questions, and every single one directed at Esme made me see red.
Esme, who’s the latest victim? Which pack now has broken hearts? Are you in the closet? Do you need a female pack? Did the death of your father break you? Are you in therapy? Who helps with your heats? Do you share with Eva?
I looped my arms through hers again and whispered, “Fucking assholes.”
Esme sighed. “Apparently everyone’s thinking the same thing, so I’m not sure they’re out of line.”
Bullshit. No one deserved to have questions like that lobbed at them.
Especially Esme. The last two years had been brutal for her, and this wasn’t helping.
“They’re so fucking far out of line I’m going to have my lawyers rip them a new asshole.
I get they have to ask about the relationship stuff, and it sucks.
But they don’t get to ask about Dad or if you’re in fucking therapy. ”
She pulled me into a hug that we both realized we needed. Grief was strange that way. You could be fine one second and feel like you were drowning the next. And we missed our father.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “It just pisses me off.”
“I know, and I appreciate it. But let’s go do this party thing so we can get the hell out of here.”
Laughing, I fixed the few tears that had risen. “Deal.”
“Why is this party happening again?”
I snorted as Neil followed us to the elevator. “Honestly? What we just walked through was most of it.”
“This was all for pictures?”
“Kind of. Just press in general. You know how it is. A lot of pretty, famous people in one spot draws attention. Wellbridge Studio doesn’t have any huge films out until the end of the summer, but they want to keep us in everybody’s mind.”
“I hate that that makes sense.” Esme shook her head.
“Plus they get to spoil us at these parties, and they’re fun. You’ll see. Now that I’ve finally dragged you to one you’ll always want to come.”
“I highly doubt it.”
She probably wouldn’t become a regular fixture at these parties, but I saw her fascination as we walked into the party that had a sumptuous circus theme.
They’d gone all out, lining the walls with red velvet to create a tent, dark and ornate chandeliers with what looked like actual candles burning. I didn’t even want to think about how much extra they’d had to pay to have open flame.
The electric lights moved in colorful patterns, and roving spotlights added to the feeling of walking into a circus that had just come to town. The performers helped too. Aerialists and illusionists, someone was face painting, and was that an actual tattoo artist over there?
The party was already packed, and I saw many, many people I knew. Some of them I liked.
“There you are!” Jasmine waved and came straight to us. She ushered us into the depths of the party. “I was about to come hunt you down.”
“A lot of paps,” I said, trying not to grumble about the sheer number of them.
But my anger was still on a very short leash.
“And do me a favor? Tell the gossip magazines if they ever shout questions at me or Esme about our father, if we’ve gone to therapy, or anything remotely close to that line, I’ll make sure they never have a legal photo of us either again. ”
She froze in surprise, but agreed. “Got it.”
Good. “Anything I should know?”
Jasmine took both my and Esme’s clutches. “Mostly just mingle. The studio heads will probably want a few words at some point, but I’ll come pull you out when you’re needed. There’s also an official photographer, and we’d love to get some pictures of the two of you dancing.”
“We can do that,” Esme said. “When I dance I don’t have to talk to people.”
Jasmine laughed. “If more of the people in this room had your attitude, I imagine there would be a lot fewer publicity messes.”
We were going to do just that when someone else waved at me.
This smile was natural. Dante Norwood was a sweetheart and was always a reliably good time at parties.
He pulled me in for a brief hug and kissed me on both cheeks.
“Darling, you look beautiful. And Esme, you look fucking fantastic if I say so myself.”
“Thank you.”
I made a face. “I had to force her into that dress since Jasmine wouldn’t let me wear it.”
Dante’s eyes sparkled, and his tone lovingly mocked me. “Whatever will Eva May Williams do without wearing a ten thousand dollar dress?”
Esme’s head snapped in my direction. “This dress cost that much?”
“I didn’t pay for it. It was a gift from the designer.”
She blinked in shock, then shook her head a little, like she was pulling herself out of it.
“Have you seen the food?” Her question was aimed at Dante. “Because I’m about to eat so much this thing will look like a maternity dress.”
Dante’s loud laugh drew looks from around the room. “If you manage to make that happen, please come straight to me. It’s over there.” He pointed to the side of the room opposite from where we’d entered.
“Thank you!” Esme grabbed my wrist and took off like a shot. “I should have stolen your pizza earlier.”
“We both should have. Food is a great idea.” I was definitely hungry.
The spread was incredible. There were three different chocolate fountains, and I was absolutely going to risk disaster in my white dress by eating from all three.
There were hot dishes and cold cuts, and pretty much anything you could want.
Except pizza. I might need to text Liam to get another one for when I got home.
Esme went stiff in front of the table, eyes going wide and bright. “Fuck, do you smell that? I need a cupcake.”
I glanced down the table, but that was another thing that was missing. There weren’t any baked goods like that. “What? There aren’t any cupcakes here.”
“Then Dante must have been wrong because I smell cupcakes and now it’s all I can think about.” She turned on her heel, searching for the smell she craved.
“Esme,” I laughed. “You’re having food hallucinations right now.”
“It’s because I’m so hungry.” She was still moving, pushing toward the front of the room and closer to the dance floor. Her voice grew quieter and she looked back at me. “It’ll be fine. Just one and my brain will be back to normal.”
Oh shit. My twin wasn’t watching where she was going and this was going to be bad. I ran forward. “Esme—”
Too late.
She smacked into the man who’d been bending over a table with a man’s wrist in one hand and a tattoo machine in the other.
Fuck.
He looked so startled, and so did she. But there wasn’t any yelling or anger. Just surprise. Hopefully the tattoo was okay.
I wove through the crowd, getting closer, when I heard Esme speak. “You,” she said, “are not a cupcake.”
The man smirked. “No, I’m not.”
Wait…
A jolt of electricity ran down my spine that felt suspiciously like deja vu.
Me, running around backstage at the DCAs, begging Jasmine to find a candle that didn’t exist. I was the only one who could smell it. And in this room? Nothing smelled like cupcakes to me.
Esme was still frozen, so I stepped up beside her and tried to break the tension and pull the attention away from her for a second so she could recover. “He may not be a cupcake, but he does have some serious cake, if you know what I mean.”
She turned her head to me slowly, looking like she might stab me. I just smiled. “He can hear you, Eva.”
It was then I realized that the man we stood in front of wasn’t just any tattoo artist. He was the tattoo artist. I’d been following his art forever, and I would do a lot of things in order to be tattooed by him.
Just had to make sure it wouldn’t ruin my career first. “Holy shit. You’re Bennett Gray. ”
He stood. “Guilty as charged.”
I desperately hoped that neither of them could tell how much I was freaking the fuck out because Esme had just experienced R.A.S.
She was scent matching right in front of me.
I knew the way Bennett was looking at her, because it was the way my Alpha’s had looked at me that night.
Complete and utter awe. Like they’d been struck by lightning.
The way they looked at each other made me realize how glad I was that Jasmine had my back at the DCAs. So now, that was me. I would have Esme’s back here, because it was about fucking time.
Holy hell, I’d wanted to help Esme by coming to the party, I just didn’t realize I’d be helping her like this.
Esme stared at him. “You’re still not a cupcake.”
I stifled a laugh. “He knows, Esme.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her lift her wrist to her nose—where she’d rolled on the scent canceller—and I saw the second she realized that she wasn’t hallucinating treats from a bakery. The scent she was locked in on came from the man in front of her.
I was close enough to smell the change of her scent to pure terror.
“Um,” Esme cleared her throat and looked down at the floor. “I hope I didn’t fuck up your tattoo.”
The Alpha laughed. “You got lucky. I was about to grab more ink. So no, you didn’t fuck it up.
” He looked her up and down, as if trying to memorize every piece of her.
Good thing I made her wear the dress. Bennett Gray looked at my sister like he wanted to eat her.
Like she was the cupcake and he was about to lick the icing off.
Under the music, I heard it. He’d started to purr out of pure instinct. Esme heard it too and cleared her throat again.
“I’m glad about that, for my sake. But I also like hearing Bennett be called a cupcake.
” Carson Lord sat at the table. How the hell Carson Lord managed to be present when both of us scent matched was beyond me.
He knew what had happened at the DCAs now.
I’d told him the whole story while filming.
He raised an eyebrow and gave me a pointed look before glancing between Bennett and Esme.
I nodded subtly, and he grinned.
“Okay.” Esme fidgeted. “I’m gonna go now.”
Before I could stop her, she pushed through the crowd, fleeing towards the balcony.
Bennett stared after her. The look on his face was caught between devastating loss and feral desire.
“Sorry about that,” I said. “She doesn’t like parties.”
Slowly, like coming out of a daze, Bennett looked at me. “That’s your sister?”
“That’s Esme. In the flesh. Sorry about the interruption, Carson.”
“That’s all right,” Carson said, still holding back laughter. He’d never let me hear the end of it once we were on the same set again. “Even a fucked up Bennett Gray tattoo is still a Bennett Gray tattoo.”
“For real. I’m a huge fan of your work, and I’d love to have a piece done by you sometime. Something bigger than you can do at a party.”
He blinked, and I smiled. It was clear he was still caught in the haze of being scent-sympathetic. I empathized.
My words finally seemed to reach him. “Absolutely.” He grabbed a card from his table. “Make an appointment and come in any time. We’ll do a consultation.”
“Thank you!” He looked in the direction Esme had gone with such longing it made my chest ache. “Do you want me to talk to her?”
“I don’t think she’s ready to talk to anything that isn’t made in a bakery.”
I laughed, keeping my tone light. “Don’t let her food craving scare you off.” Someone called my name. I used the opportunity to step away. “I’ll give the studio a call. Hopefully I’ll see you soon.”
Whoever had called my name didn’t follow up. If it was important, they would find me later. Right now? I had to gently and lovingly kick my sister’s ass.