Chapter 15
15
Having Abeo sleep over was exactly what I’d needed to get out of my slump.
He was ruthless, focused. He hadn’t let me sleep in past seven.
After a quick breakfast, we’d gone rowing in Wandsworth and then brunched at his home in Mayfair, where I’d attempted to trace the anonymous text Mr Ex had sent me.
Nothing worked.
This guy knew exactly what he was doing, and it seemed even my tech knowledge wasn’t advanced enough to identify him.
We’d concocted a plan for tonight. The other Exes would also be attending Queen Charlotte’s Ball, but we’d decided not to let them in on it, for now. And the rest of our time had been spent creating and uploading content: a gaming video, a vlog, and a clip of us getting ready for the ball. Regardless of what went on in our lives, work didn’t stop, and none of us could take a lengthy break from building up our brand and followers.
Abeo shot me a confused look. ‘Shall I upload this on to The Exes’ TikTok or my personal one?’
‘Definitely the main account,’ I responded, adjusting my white bow tie until it sat just right.
‘Damn,’ he grinned, showing me the video. ‘We look good .’
When Abeo and I arrived at One Whitehall Place, the ball was in full swing.
Partners and parents in white tie and glittering gowns were milling about the hall, which exuded Victorian grandeur. The high ceiling was lined with sparkling chandeliers, and the red carpet matched the crimson curtains draping the floor-length windows, which overlooked the Thames.
As a waiter whizzed by, Abeo grabbed a glass.
‘I’m going to look for James. Coming?’
I shook my head and he left.
As I stood alone, I could sense people watching me. Usually I wouldn’t think twice about it because I’d practically grown up in the public eye, but their gaze had taken on a sinister undertone now; I couldn’t divorce it from the omnipresent glare of Mr Ex. All I could think about was that these people were either relishing the salacious gossip he spread about me or feeding information to him themselves. I felt the urge to get away from them all.
At least my brooding expression was deterring selfie requests.
Zara Khan would never ask me for a selfie. I couldn’t picture it. The thought made me smile.
A flash.
I blinked.
A figure in a black suit curled behind a pillar just before I could see his face.
It was a mistake – he hadn’t meant to use the flash. But an ordinary fan or photographer wouldn’t have then hidden in such a way. Which could only mean that he was neither …
A tap on my shoulder. I started.
‘What’s happening?’ Abeo asked.
‘Someone just took a picture of me,’ I replied distractedly. ‘By mistake.’
Keeping my eyes peeled, I rushed over to the pillar. But by the time I reached it, there was no one there.
‘It wasn’t James. He was with me the whole time,’ Abeo said, catching up to me. ‘Look – he’s coming over now. Remember what we spoke about? Act normal.’
James came up to us with a wide grin. ‘Nice to see you.’
I gave him a tight smile and pretended to be interested in his excessive chatter. After a while, Noah joined us too, and when he went in for a hug, I embraced him. Not his fault that I’d broken up with his sister.
‘Is it all right?’ Noah murmured self-consciously, looking down at the kilt he was wearing.
‘You look great,’ I reassured him quickly, my mind still fixated on that flash.
Someone clattered a spoon against a glass, and the hall swiftly fell silent.
‘The formal procession is about to begin,’ the host announced. ‘Escorts must prepare for the arrival of the debutantes.’
I walked towards the hall’s entrance, Abeo and James in tow.
‘Do you know what Felicity’s wearing?’ James asked Abeo.
‘Of course,’ he replied matter-of-factly. ‘I chose her entire look myself. Carolina Herrera gown and diamond jewellery from Van Cleef & Arpels.’
‘I helped put my sister’s look together,’ James responded. ‘Jenny Packham gown. Pearl jewellery from Dior.’
Abeo pursed his lips.
Fashion really brought out his competitive side. He opened his mouth to respond with what would undoubtedly have been a feisty comment, but then something caught his eye. ‘Sanjay, what are you doing here?’
‘This is unexpected,’ I agreed. ‘I didn’t realize you had a deb to escort.’
‘Neither did I,’ Sanjay replied sheepishly. ‘One of Chloe’s friends needed to replace her escort, and she volunteered me.’
He chuckled awkwardly and scratched his neck, avoiding our eyes. It was weird seeing Sanjay with slicked-back hair and wearing a fitted suit. We were so used to his heavily oversized outfits stained with paint. But he looked … good. Really good. James was openly checking him out. It was clear we’d all forgotten how well he could clean up.
‘Oh wow, the girls are here,’ James said, and everyone’s eyes snapped in the direction of the debutantes, who were elegantly entering.
Chloe was right at the front, as expected.
Her white satin gown flowed down her body like water, accentuating her modelesque physique. A slit up one leg added the perfect touch of sensuality. The light caught on the sheen of her glossy blonde Hollywood waves.
I felt slightly breathless.
Chloe Clark was mesmerizing, infectious. She always had been. With every year that passed, the power of her beauty and charisma only seemed to intensify.
As she approached me, her full red lips lifted into a smile. I smiled back, then caught her bright green eyes. And that was when I realized – she hadn’t been looking at me at all.