Chapter Nine
Nine Years Ago
Rhys pushed through the birthday-party revelers, making a path for Jules and her boyfriend and Abigail and her girlfriend to meet their parents next to the towering chocolate cake that looked more like a wedding cake than any birthday cake he’d ever seen.
Rhys spied Sloane positioning photographers at various angles.
None were in each other’s line of sight, and all would be able to sell photos that told a different story; Jules with her current guy; Jules with her sister; Jules with her famous parents; Jules blowing out the candles; Jules doing this and that, on and on, milking her twenty-fifth birthday celebration like it was a national holiday.
Maybe for some people, it was. He wasn’t sure that Jules would agree.
She didn’t look like she wanted to be there.
If he were a betting man, she’d have a new boyfriend by the time she hit the red carpet in Shanghai for the latest superhero flick in an unstoppable franchise.
Jules had had a new partner for each of the last installments.
He didn’t see why this guy would stick. She didn’t act like she thought he would stick either.
Rhys pivoted, taking in the faces around him.
There were two men on his watch list: one apparently leaving his wife and three kids because he was certain he and Jules had made a connection through her social media posts, and the other, a man angry that she’d made a cameo appearance in his favorite streamed series.
Did it make sense? No. Did that make Streaming Guy dangerous?
Perhaps. Both men had shown up at several places she had been, finally arguing about why the other was there. Neither seemed very stable.
Sloane and her assistant worked the crowd of friends, family, and guests, and she had a handle on people taking cell phone pictures.
From his home base in Virginia, Rhys’s coworker, Scarlett Wu, monitored what the internet had to say about tonight.
He was constantly blown away by the number of idiots who announced their plans for stupidity online.
But so far, they’d found nothing but a bunch of people sharing the name of the restaurant, and they had bouncers taking care of anyone who didn’t have an invite to the event.
Another DJ moved into place, and a different vibe reignited the dance floor. Jules yawned.
Same, Jules. This wasn’t his scene.
Her boyfriend tugged at her hand, backing toward the dance floor. Abigail and her girlfriend swept in, saving Jules from his attention. She glanced both ways, carefully stepping back like she wanted to disappear, and when no one caught her, she bolted.
He snickered, already knowing the rooftop terrace had been calling her name all night. No one except for family was supposed to be up there. He spied Peyton and Diane dancing next to Abigail and knew she was off the hook.
Rhys followed her up then glanced across the rooftop pavilion and confirmed it was empty except for Jules.
He posted by the door that led to the quiet space.
The warm night was an oasis. The last of the sunset-pink sky had melted into darkness, kissed by light glittering from Los Angeles below them.
“Do you like Greg?” she called from the cushioned chaise near the balcony.
Rhys stepped from his post, inching closer while still letting her have the terrace to herself. “Who’s Greg?”
She rolled her wrist in the direction they’d come from. “Current boyfriend.”
His lips quirked, and he strode closer. “Is that how you’re supposed to label a guy? Current? As in he might expire?”
“He might have already.”
Rhys covered the distance between them. No need for the world to hear whatever she wanted to say. He didn’t think anyone from the party could hear, but he didn’t trust any location he hadn’t swept for bugs and listening devices. They’d found one in her Audi last month.
He leaned back, resting his elbows on the balcony rail, facing her, but also watching the entrance to the terrace. “What’s wrong with Greg?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. What’s right about him?”
“That’s answer enough. Greg has definitely expired.”
Jules smiled, one of those real smiles that she didn’t share with the world. “When can we leave?”
“It’s your birthday. Leave when you want.”
She cackled. “Have you met Sloane Ellis?”
“Good point.”
She sighed and stretched out her legs. “Do you ever feel stuck?”
He shook his head. He loved his job. Loved the travel. Sure, he had to put up with bullshit birthday parties that cost more than his starting salary at the FBI, but he was also never bored and enjoyed the people he worked with. He enjoyed the time spent with her. “Nope.”
“We’ve known each other a while,” she said.
“Yup.”
“Six years.”
He nodded and watched a waiter, who popped out like he was going to sneak a smoke break, only to see them, scurry away.
“I was kind of an ass when we met.” She twisted her lips to the side sheepishly.
“When we met? I don’t think you were. You were in a bad place.”
“I meant when you were subpoenaed, and I was… definitely an ass.” Her self-deprecating laugh slipped between them.
Rhys smiled. “I wouldn’t say you were an ass.”
“Then what was I?”
“More like…” What was she like? Scared. Angry. Violated. Her birthday party wasn’t the right place to remind her of that hell.
“Like?” she pressed.
The silence stretched as he tried to find the right words, but they still didn’t surface. “Stressed.”
Jules seemed to work that over before nodding.
“You forgive me yet?” Rhys didn’t know why he’d asked. He’d never needed absolution from a principal before. He glanced over.
A sad smile pulled her lips down. “It’s harder than it used to be to stay angry with you.”
“Is that so, Miss Grudge Holder?” His lips twitched. “You still rather I perjure myself and sit in jail?”
“Am I going to be a spoiled nepo baby if I say yes?”
“A thousand percent, sweetheart.”
She laughed. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m a spoiled grudge holder, but I’m working on it.
” She kicked her legs off the chaise and joined him by the side of the balcony.
“Do you ever look at all these lights and wonder who lives there, if they’re happy, why they’re sad?
So many would kill for what I have, then I think about what I’m missing, and I feel empty. Hollow.”
His brow wrinkled. Rhys looked at her as she stared into the distance. Maybe holding grudges protected her from the trauma that still haunted her. If so, she could hold on to that grudge. He’d gladly take her anger if it helped. “You okay, Jules?”
She painted on a fake smile from her collection of bullshit expressions that she hid behind. “Sure.”
“You don’t sound like it.”
“Birthdays make me a little philosophical. Maybe I’m just growing up. Another year older, another year wiser?”
His twenties hadn’t looked anything like he’d thought they would.
She was halfway through hers and had been through so much.
Rhys studied the lights below then dropped his head back to take in the night.
The stars didn’t shine here. The bright moon and sprawling city shone too brightly.
They dulled the diamond sparkle of the stars, the real showstopper, until most were barely visible.
“It’s not passing time that makes you wiser. It’s what you’ve survived.”
Her emerald eyes found his. “Do you think I’ve survived? Even if I don’t trust a soul?”
“You trust Abs.”
“Besides Abigail,” she tacked on.
He waited a beat, then told her the truth. “I think you’ve flourished.”