ChapterTwenty-Three
Rosalia
I stare at the woman next to me. Tiffany Blackstone. Sebastian’s ex-wife. She has the glossy beauty, that untouchable quality of someone who’s never doubted her place in the world.
Her gaze sweeps over me from head to toe. “Enjoy your little fairy tale while it lasts,” Tiffany purrs with a smirk. “Because when the clock strikes midnight, you’ll be back where you belong.”
“Excuse me,” is all I can manage.
“You may have caught my Sebastian’s eye for now,” Tiffany’s focus drops to my designer heels that her ex-husband bought. “But we both know that shoe doesn’t really fit. Sooner or later, he’ll realize it.”
I straighten my shoulders. Anyone who treated a partner’s love as though it were worth less than fool’s gold won’t make me cower. “From what I understand, you’re hardly in a position to judge anyone else’s character. I might not be rich, but you’re the one who doesn’t have any class.”
Tiffany’s flinch is almost imperceptible, and a flicker of something like shame crosses her face. She opens her mouth as if to retort, then closes it. “Perhaps I deserved that,” she concedes, her voice tight. “But it doesn’t change the facts. You’re out of your depth. You’re also temporary.”
She obviously doesn’t like that her ex is dating, but why? She cheated on him with his brother, no less. The marriage couldn’t have been that important to her.
“What is your deal with me?” I challenge.
“You’re in my way,” she declares.
“Excuse me.”
“Thorne was a mistake. I want my husband back.” Her voice catches slightly on the word “husband,” and for a fleeting moment, a wistful look crosses her face.
“I never should have let him go,” she confesses softly, almost to herself.
Then, as if she remembers where she is and who she’s talking to, her expression hardens again.
“And we would reconcile if he’d take my calls. Agree to meet with me.”
I have to admire the woman’s confidence. She stands here, speaking about Sebastian like he’s a possession she misplaced rather than a person she hurt. Something about her tone, so certain and entitled, makes me take a small step back.
I’m silent for a long moment, considering my words carefully.
Then, I say, “I’m not going to pretend to understand what happened between you two.
That’s your history, your story. But I do know this: Sebastian is an amazing man.
He’s kind, generous and so deeply good. And he deserves to be with someone who sees that, who appreciates him for who he is. ”
My heart squeezes. Given the deal I’ve made with Thorne, I don’t deserve him either.
Tiffany stares at me, seemingly at a loss for words, but quickly finds them. “You are out of your league. A man like Sebastian will never fall for a woman like you.”
She pulls on the handle to leave, but freezes. Sebastian is standing right outside. His gaze lands on Tiffany and turns sub-zero. She steps to him and the door swings shut behind her.
I should exit as well. Instead, I rest my palms on the cool tile of the sink.
My shoulders sag as I inhale deeply. Tiffany’s words ring in the empty bathroom, echoing my deepest insecurities.
I am out of my league. I’m fooling myself into thinking that, even if I find a way to save my store without Thorne, I’ll ever belong in Sebastian’s world.
Exhaling a sigh, I straighten and leave the restroom. Tiffany is gone, but not Sebastian. He moves toward me, and I see the worry in his eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“I’m fine.”
He looks from me to his ex-wife’s retreating back. “Did she say something to you?”
I laugh, but the sound is weak. “She wants you back.”
His face hardens. “No. She wants what comes with being the wife of a Blackstone.”
“There is so much more to you than your family name, Sebastian.” In fact, everything in me wishes he weren’t a Blackstone, just an uncomplicated man who visited my bookstore.
“Maybe, but that’s the piece of me everyone wants.” His gaze searches me, like he’s hoping I’m different. And I wish I were, but Thorne and his damn deal…
I look away, unable to meet his eyes while carrying this secret.
Steering the conversation away from that dangerous territory, I say, “She was also being catty and hinted that my dress color is gauche.”
“Bullshit. I think her envy is showing. ”
“The color isn’t too loud?” I hate the insecurity in my voice, but the gala is far out of my comfort zone.
He steps close, his breath hot against my ear. “Are you kidding me? You’re going to be the death of me in that dress. I can’t take my eyes off you, and I don’t think I’m the only one. Every man here wishes he were me tonight.”
Someone bumps me from behind and I stumble into Sebastian. He catches me around the waist. The person apologizes, but I barely register it. All my focus is on Sebastian’s touch, which burns me, sending heat between my legs.
There’s no denying I like his hands on me. Leaning into him, I inhale. He smells like comfort and sensual dreams. I step away before doing something embarrassing, like kissing or climbing him.
He glances past me, then backs away. “For someone who’s not a,” he made air quotes, “‘gala girl,’ you are navigating this evening like an expert.”
“Thank you.” His compliment releases some of the tension in my limbs.
“My mom was an English teacher at the top private school in Michigan. A perk of her job was that I attended for free. I know how to act, but that’s all it is—acting.
And the performance makes me anxious, afraid people will see through it.
” Just as his ex-wife had so easily done.
“You do belong.”
I press my lips together. No, I don’t.
He takes my hand. “Come on. Let’s take a breather from this party and go outside. This time of year, the rose garden is in full bloom.”
That sounds perfect, and I allow him to lead me outside. Once there, we walk to a waist-high iron fence. The sun set hours ago, but the gas lamps strategically placed throughout the garden give the place a wonderfully haunted romance vibe.
“Beautiful,” I murmur.
“I agree.” He’s looking at me. My pulse quickens and I can’t turn away.
All the evening aggravations and hurts disappear, and all I see is him. A breeze blows a strand of my hair loose from my braid. He tucks it back in place and then runs his fingertips along my jaw. When he reaches my lips, I shiver .
“Do you want to go back in?” he asks.
I shake my head, stepping closer to him. The only place I want to be is here, with him, looking into those bourbon eyes that promise to give me what I’ve desired since that almost kiss in the car—his touch, his lips on mine.
He leans closer, his minty breath fanning against my tingling lips. “What do you want, Rosalia?” he murmurs, his hand sliding up my bare back, his touch leaving trails of goosebumps in its wake.
“You.”
His lips part on an exhale. Then his warm, large palm rests on my waist. He brushes his lips over mine as if testing the truth of my claim. We’re crossing a line we’ll probably regret, but I need his mouth on mine.
I press into the gentle kiss, and with a groan, he’s all in. The hand on my hip wraps around me, pulling me against his hard body. I open for him and he doesn’t hesitate. His kiss is a mix of teasing and temptation, giving me just enough to hunger for more while offering me all I want.
“Oh, pardon us,” comes a man’s voice I somewhat recognize.
Heat floods my cheeks as I jolt from Sebastian. I press my lips together, still tingling from his kiss, my stomach dropping as I take in Daniel staring wide-eyed at us.
“Rosalia? Rosalia Manchester, is that you?” asks the woman standing next to Daniel. My gut tightens. Who now? I’d love to see a friendly face.
Wait. I know that face!
No way. Anna from the romance book club is standing with Daniel. She looks different from her usual laid-back bookstore self. In a sleek gown and perfect makeup, she blends in seamlessly with the gala crowd.
“What are the odds? Of all the fancy galas in Louisville, we end up at the same one,” I say, still processing the bizarre coincidence of seeing my bookstore friend here.
The universe seems determined to remind me tonight of all the lives entwined with mine. First Sebastian’s family, then Tiffany forcing me to confront my insecurities, now Anna appearing like a sign from my real world. It’s as if every corner of this gala holds someone with a stake in my decisions.
“I could say the same about you!” Anna counters. “When did you start attending fancy galas? And with Mr. Blackstone?”
My heart skips a beat. Anna’s eyes hold a million questions I’m not ready to answer. Thinking fast, I deflect. “I didn’t know you were dating anyone.”
“It’s recent.” Anna squeezes Daniel’s hand.
He smiles at her, but his gaze returns to Sebastian’s arm around my waist and his mouth presses in a tight line. Is there concern in his eyes? And for whom?
The butterflies in my chest crash into my stomach.
Could Daniel’s disapproval have something to do with my deal to help Thorne?
Daniel was probably the lawyer who had drawn up the contract I’d demanded.
The one that states if I take Sebastian’s red leather folder, my lease would be renewed. And that I could back out at any time.
He clears his throat. “Sebastian, why don’t we go grab drinks for everyone?”
I glance at Sebastian, but he’s looking at Daniel with a slight frown. His arm tightens around my waist, and then he releases me. “Sure,” he says finally. “Rosalia, what would you like?”
“Surprise me,” I reply, proud at my steady tone.
He nods, turning to Anna. “And for you?”
“A Kentucky Mule, if you don’t mind,” she says, her gaze still on me.
The men walk away, and I can’t shake the feeling that Daniel made the suggestion to get Sebastian alone. Is he going to warn him about getting too close to me?
“Is everything okay?” Anna asks.