Chapter 13
Millie
The vision of Callum in a kilt, his glorious torso gleaming under the studio lights, will be forever etched in my mind—and my phone, because I’m never deleting that video.
I kind of want to call Roxy to tell her my kilt fantasy has basically come to life in front of me, but since it’s Callum, I’d feel a little weird about it.
Plus, I have to spend the entire evening with him—and the rest of the team—so maybe it’s not the best time to spiral.
I’ve already changed my outfit five times, and I still don’t know what to wear.
Roxy said to opt for something fancy, a dress or a pantsuit.
She even sent me pictures of the outfit she wore to last year’s gala.
But for some reason, I hate every single piece of clothing I own right now, and I’m seriously questioning what went through my mind when I bought some of this stuff.
And unfortunately, “elegant” usually rhymes with boring, solid colours, and well, I don’t really have any of those.
My wardrobe is bursting with polka dots, bright tones, and funky patterns.
After duking it out for another hour, I finally settle on a blue rockabilly-style dress with crisp white polka dots.
It’s bold but classic. And technically, blue and white are the Regents’ colours, so…
let’s call it on-theme. These retro dresses are my comfort zone anyway—fitted at the waist, then flaring out at the hips to hide my love handles.
I tug on a pair of tights, grab a black leather bag, and I’m good to go.
I wait for my rideshare under the narrow overhang of the boutique next door to avoid the soft drizzle that’s gaining momentum.
Naturally, my coat is cropped and adorable—but provides approximately the same warmth as a napkin.
And of course I forgot my brolly again. I release a sigh.
Tomorrow can’t come soon enough. I have an appointment at a used car dealership in the morning that promises I can leave with keys in hand.
Some might say it’s a bit early to buy a car when I’ve barely been at this job a month, but I have a good feeling about it.
Philip is happy with my work, and we’ve drummed up incredible engagement on social media.
Scores of new followers, lots of comments, and plenty of shares.
The players are doing great too, especially with Archie’s dance videos frequently going viral.
Just as I start rubbing my hands for warmth, my driver Bashir arrives, and we set off down the glowing streets of London.
The gala is being held in central London at a grand old hotel that looks like it belongs in a royal period drama.
Think sandstone columns and wrought-iron balconies, the whole place softly lit in shades of gold and amber, like someone dipped the entire building in candlelight.
Through the tall glass doors, I catch glimpses of gowns and suits, champagne flutes clinking, and I swallow hard.
The second I enter the room, I know all eyes are going to be on me.
Not because I’m a dazzling beauty, but because my dress stands out in this sea of black and white suits and evening gowns.
It’s a little sad, if you ask me, but at this very moment, I really wish I owned a black dress.
Gliding into the ballroom, I spot Roxy and Wade near the bar, deep in conversation with Finn, Cameron, and Callum.
And wow, do they wear those tuxes well. Finn’s tie is askew, Cameron’s jacket is already off, and Wade looks like he could be hosting the Oscars.
But it’s Callum who steals my breath. Even if it’s a little disappointing to see he didn’t wear his kilt.
He looks different tonight. Sharper. Taller somehow. Or maybe it’s just the lighting. Or the tailored jacket. Or the simple fact that he’s standing with his hand tucked in his pocket, swaying slightly, the tiniest twitch of a smirk pulling at his lips as his deep brown eyes find me.
“You made it,” Roxy squeals, opening her arms to hug me. “You look magnificent.”
“Thanks. Doesn’t exactly fit the dress code, but you know me.” I force out a chuckle. “You look great too.” I step back to admire her very elegant black-and-white pantsuit.
We grab a drink and start chatting, but Callum doesn’t say much, which isn’t a big surprise. Then, parting from the group, Roxy introduces me to her friend-slash-colleague Lina and Lina’s fiancé Jude, editor-in-chief of a men’s fashion magazine that sponsors the team.
Archie approaches us with a laugh, already halfway into some story, and Fallon trails behind him. She smiles shyly and gives us a small wave.
“Hey,” she says, hugging us each in turn. She’s dressed in a soft purple gown dusted with silver, her makeup impeccable. But her shoulders are stiff, her smile a little too forced.
“No Brent?” Cameron’s voice is gentler than usual as he scratches the back of his neck. I know he’s referring to Fallon’s boyfriend, though I’ve yet to meet the mysterious man.
She breathes a long sigh, staring down at her high heels for a beat. “Nope. He’s on a work trip.”
Roxy offers her arm, and Fallon loops hers through it. “Well, his loss. You look amazing.”
We all fall back into easy conversation, and Fallon seems to relax.
After a couple of drinks, my tiny bladder has abandoned its attempt to hold it together, so I make my way to the toilets, my heels clacking softly against the polished floor.
When I’m done, I move to wash my hands, but the tap is stronger than I expected and splashes water across the front of my dress.
“Brilliant,” I mutter, grabbing a handful of paper towels to blot at the mark. It’s not huge, but of course it had to be dead centre. After dabbing it as best I can, I toss the paper towels and pray the lighting in the room is forgiving.
I’m walking back across the room, discreetly checking the faint water stain—please let it be dry already—when I bump into someone.
“Sorry,” I say, looking up, but when I realise who I just collided with, I almost lose my balance again. My ex-boyfriend is here, standing right in front of me.
“Millie,” he breathes out, clearly as surprised as I am. “What are you doing here?”
“Trevor,” I exclaim, trying to make sense of all this.
A few heads turn when I blurt his name—including Callum, who’s standing nearby in conversation. He glances our way, his brows pulling together.
“I, um, work for the team,” I say, lowering my voice. “What about you?”
“My dad invests in the Regents, and you know,” he shrugs, “I work for him now.”
Right. How could I forget? I was the one who helped him reconnect with his dad.
“That’s great,” I mutter. Just as the words leave my lips, I notice the two glasses in his hands—one of champagne and one of orange juice.
His gaze flicks to his left, where a heavily pregnant brunette stands flanked by two sharply dressed men. They’re all staring at me now.
“Thank you, honey,” the woman says, reaching for the juice. “Um, who’s this?”
“This is Millie,” Trevor says with a bit of an edge in his voice. “She works for the team. Millie, this is Julie, my fiancée. And Daniel and Farid from Brentworth Capital.”
“Nice to meet you,” Daniel says, extending a hand.
I shake each of their hands politely, forcing a smile while doing my best not to stare at the massive diamond on Julie’s finger.
Her smile is sweet, her tone warm. “What do you do for the team?”
I glance around, searching for a means of escape.
Anyone. But all the suits and sequins blend into one massive wall of blurred wallpaper.
Callum is still watching us, but just as I catch his gaze, he looks away.
No help there, I guess. Resigned to my fate, I glance back at her, and her protruding belly.
It’s big. How far along can she be? At least six months, like Roxy, but that can’t be right.
Trevor and I broke up five months ago. Maybe she’s having twins?
I clear my throat. “Um, I’m the social media manager.”
“Oh, that sounds fun.” Her eyes flicker between Trevor and me. “So, how do you two know each other?”
More desperate than ever, I scan the room for help again, but I don’t spot anyone I know. Why did they all have to wear the same thing?
“We dated,” Trevor says flatly.
A quiet “oh” comes from Farid and Daniel, followed by a long silence.
I could always make a run for it, but my eyes settle on her belly again, and I can’t help but ask the question that’s burning on my tongue. “So, um, how far along are you?”
She places her hand on her large baby bump. “Seven months and counting,” she chuckles. “I can’t wait for this little girl to be here.”
She keeps talking about her baby, but her words muffle and melt into a steady droning.
The room is spinning, and my breath catches.
When I feel Trevor’s eyes on me, I finally gather up the courage to look at him.
And there it is. The shameful truth. He cheated on me when we were together—and apparently, he cheated on Julia too.
I’m guessing that, like me, she didn’t have the slightest idea.
I want to run away, but my feet are cemented to the ground. The weight of Callum’s stare presses on me, but I don’t have the strength to meet his eyes.
“...I mean, I’m sure it’s normal,” Julie continues. “But it’s my first, so I’m a bit apprehensive.”
“Right.” I blink. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t have any children.”
The way Trevor looks at me makes me want to both punch him in the face and disappear ten feet underground. A mixture of shame and pity. What does he pity me for? He’s the one who should be pitied, building a relationship on a lie.
Julie laughs loudly, then starts recounting a story about their wedding to Farid and Daniel when Trevor leans toward me. “I’m sorry, Millie. I’m sure you’ll find someone soon.”
I stare back in disgust. Is he for real? That’s why he’s sorry? Because I don’t have a boyfriend. Not because he cheated on me.