Chapter 26
Recent transactions:
Flashing cameras blur my vision as Spencer and I step out of the taxi to the dramatic stone staircase leading up to the theater’s
grand entrance. My white gloves hide my face as event photographers try to get pictures of the hottest new tech founders before
they hit the big time. Glancing around at the other guests gliding up the stone stairs to the main entrance I can’t help but
feel self-conscious. This is Cecily’s dress, and her mother’s jewelry; Spencer’s tuxedo is rented; and we are still every
bit of a fraud as when we started; but I’m more self-assured than I was at the start of this competition.
Even if we don’t make it to the top three tonight, we are TechRumble finalists. We made it, and I have no doubt we will find
some sort of investment from this experience, whether it’s in this building or not. I straighten my shoulders and head in.
The warmth of the candles and three hundred people hits my cold bare shoulders.
I watch as the other ladies part with their designer coats and unveil their glamorous dresses like haute couture flashers.
I fiddle with my white gloves, pulling them back up my arms until they sit taut at my elbows.
I feel like a kid playing dress-up in my purple silk gown, but it’s the anticipation of seeing Oliver that’s making me truly nervous.
My hands tremble as I take a glass of champagne from a tray and say thank you to the waiter who smiles back politely and nods.
Maybe he can sense that I scrounged the business accounts for ticket money like a hand down the back of the sofa, that I’m sipping on a glass of two-hundred-pound-a-bottle champagne with less money to my name.
We step toward the main hall, and I try to play it cool, like I frequent places like this all the time. But in reality, this
is the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen. The walls are lined with gilded gesso and ten sparkling chandeliers hang from fresco
ceilings. Red and purple lights shine up the walls at intervals and there are so many pillar candles it must be a fire safety
violation, casting everyone in a flattering moody glow.
“Jesus Christ,” Spencer says under his breath. “I looked it up before we left; apparently this is one of the more casual balls
of the season.”
My eyes pop out of their sockets. “Where are the others? At the fucking palace?”
He glances at me briefly, eyebrows up in awe. “Yes.”
I whistle. “At least we didn’t have to spring for tickets to that one.”
Spencer sips on his champagne as he scans the crowd, shoulders rolled back and head high like he’s actually comfortable in his sharp tuxedo.
That’s the skill of an actor, being able to seamlessly slip into any role you need to play, any position you need to hold to get ahead.
You figure out who people want you to be and become it.
I turn my head to him, pitching my voice low so no passersby can overhear. “Before we go in, I want to thank you for doing
all this for me.” My eyes begin to burn, but I take a breath and pull it back. “Even though you’ve created a lot more work
for me.” I let out a cathartic laugh. “You don’t know how grateful I am.”
He studies my face. “We’re a team.” His mouth moves into a sly smile. “And for the record, I would have done it without all
the fancy hotels.”
“Are you serious?”
He pokes his elbow into my side, talking out of the side of his mouth. “Come on, Jess, you’re the CEO of a TechRumble finalist
company; you’ve gotta get better at negotiating.” He downs his glass of champagne in one swift movement before grabbing another
from a passing tray.
I roll my eyes with a laugh. “Trust me, I’m never doing anything like this ever again.”
“Sure, you keep telling yourself that. But I know you, and I think you secretly love a high-risk, high-reward move. Taking
risks is what life is all about . . .” He trails off, a glint in his eyes as they drag up to a theater box on the second-floor
balcony.
My mouth goes dry as I follow his gaze and catch sight of Dominic Odericco. The ceiling fresco frames him like a god. Renaissance
angels and clouds surrounding him in heaven as he presides over his mortal subjects. My nerves kick up into high gear as I
realize Oliver must already be here too.
Like he can sense it, Dominic’s eyes flick to Spencer.
The sense of authority makes me shiver. “Wow, what did you do to piss him off?”
Spencer laughs and shakes his head. “Oh, that’s not his pissed-off face.” He says it so casually I don’t know how to respond.
“Did you ever in a million years think we’d end up here?” Spencer muses, his attention remaining fixed on Dominic.
“I thought the graduation disco was the peak of luxury.” My bright pink eyeshadow to match my A-line poofy pink dress with
platform heels still gives me shivers every time I see the photo.
As we step arm in arm farther into the building, my eyes widen at the full orchestra placed on a tiered stage; the rhythmic
tune of violins and cellos echoing across the walls makes it feel like I’m stepping back in time. Waves of black tuxedos interlaced
with fine silk, velvet, and tulle flow around us as we take in our surroundings.
We pick up cheese and fig canapés before an Italian man approaches Spencer and drags him away to meet his new founder friends.
A twinge of something that feels like jealousy briefly etches on my chest, but I’m coming to terms with the fact that if they
knew the truth, I wouldn’t be accepted into the Vienna Boys Club with open arms anyway. And there is no point in wasting energy
desiring something that will never love you back.
When we get home, the first thing we need to do is put together a plan for how to transition Spencer out of the CEO position and me in.
But whenever I think about stepping back into the role, my gut twists.
It wouldn’t be like it was before. All the extra eyes on Wyst have been fantastic for the future of the company; we’ve received more press and online traction than I ever thought possible.
But when I imagine going back to the place I was in three months ago, being all consumed by the work, having no work-life balance, no room for anything or anyone else in my life, anxiety fizzes in my blood like the edges of crashing waves.
While Spencer holds court with his adoring fans, I head to the bar to get a stronger drink. I need to feel like I’ve gained
that ticket money back somehow, and the open bar feels like the best place to start. The fresh Negroni stings against my tongue
as I take my first sip. The bar spans the length of the hall, with waiters rushing to get everyone’s order as fast as possible.
The swell of music begins and the crowd descends onto the dance floor, men in tails and their dates following along like multicolored
ducklings. Stunning women with twinkling jewels and fabulous dresses spin and twirl around their partners. The colors blend
under the soft lights on the dance floor like the aurora borealis.
I lean against the bar and glance left at the dispersing crowd to find a pair of hazel eyes already on me.
A pang of longing hits me. His dark hair looks shorter than normal, in a slicked-back formal style instead of its usual undone effortlessness.
His tuxedo fits him perfectly, the black-and-white contrast pulling all the attention to his tall form and broad shoulders.
My core aches and I swallow as every other person in the room melts away.
I wanted to slow my feelings down, but I think I’m done for.
I want to approach first, to run into him and kiss away the apprehension on his face.
To spend the night in his arms. He’s surrounded by people I recognize to be major players at Odericco Investments, but at this point, I don’t care.
All eyes are on Spencer tonight, not me.
The competition is nearly finished; the decisions have likely already been made.
I hold my breath and cross the floor toward Oliver.
It’s time. I want him to know the truth because I want him to know me, to tear down the barrier even if it means risking how I think he feels about me.
“Hi,” he says, a slight furrow on his brow.
“Hi,” I breathe out, finally feeling something close to relaxed.
“You look . . .” He studies my dress, swallows, then glances at the managers around him. “A word I can’t say in front of colleagues.”
His smile leaves goose bumps all over my body.
“So do you,” I say, giving him a shy but knowing smile.
We stare at each other for a few quiet moments, chests breathing deep, before I can’t take the heat of his gaze. I look away
before his eyes consume me completely.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, studying my face.
My lips do their best attempt at a reassuring smile as I swallow my pride. “Can we talk somewhere alone? Before the winners
are announced?” I have to tell him.
He looks down, then flicks his hazel eyes up to me. “I have to do something first, but I can meet you in ten minutes. Dom
should be finished using the study now. Wait for me upstairs and we’ll talk in there.”
“Isn’t it VIPs only upstairs?” I ask, gesturing to a sign that says exactly that.
He winks at me. “I’ll make sure you’re on the list.”
I swallow and nod, heart palpitating as I watch him walk back to his colleagues. Glancing up to the gods of the theater, the red swags hanging in scalloped edges over the sides of the boxes. “Okay, see you there.”
Is it right to tell him here? After tonight, I might never see him again. I will get this done and he can hate me and we can
go home to our separate lives. A clean break.
I’ve taken only a couple of steps toward the stairs before a hand lands on my arm.
“That was a quick ten min—” My whole body freezes as my eyes cut to the last person I want to see right now. Malcolm, in a
full tuxedo with tails, grins at me, his yellowing teeth on show.