10. Katherine
10
KATHERINE
Alex and Gabe had an entire conversation with nothing more than a few looks. I don’t know where we’re going or what they decided, but Gabe’s movements are stiff, and his handsome face is etched with apprehension. Mouth turned down, he won’t meet my gaze.
I want to tell them not to go to any trouble and that they can drop me off at the nearest hotel, but I don’t have the energy. I finally understand the saying ‘weak as a newborn lamb.’
Alex escorts me to the helipad, his hand settled across the small of my back. It takes everything in me to put one foot in front of the other. To keep my balance and not break an ankle or ruin my dress.
Despite all that, my body hums. Not because of the lingering anxiety but because his touch feels so right. So vital .
I don’t even care what they’re planning right now. After the last twenty-four hours, letting Alex take the lead is a welcome relief.
The wind whips at my dress, and I hold my hands against my thighs to keep everything in place. An attendant opens the door of the sleek, silvery-gray helicopter and lights around the helipad cause the paint to sparkle in the night.
Alex steps next to me, offering me a hand as I put my foot on the step. I gather my dress with the other hand and duck inside, keenly aware of his attention on my back. The luxurious interior offers six seats. I pick one of the singles farthest from the door, knowing it’s for the best, but my body... my traitorous body wants to be in his lap again. To be held again.
He steps back, returning to Gabriel’s side. What a sight they are. Matching scowls of concern. So tall and capable.
They speak to the pilot, but I can’t hear what they’re saying. Alex’s hands clamp over his hips, and he radiates a don’t fuck with me energy. Gabe brings up something on his phone, and all three of their heads bow over it, pointing and gesturing.
Wow.
Competency porn is real.
I settle back into the supple leather, my heels sinking into the carpet, and I try to assimilate what is happening. And why none of my nervousness has to do with Alex or Gabe .
It’s like the whole evening has been a dream.
I’m just not sure if it’s a nightmare or not.
My phone buzzes again in my purse, and I finally feel strong enough to take a look. I’m positive I know everything my mother is going to say about the evening’s events, so I scan the list for people I’d rather hear from.
Starting with LaShonda.
There’s a reason we became such fast friends. In a world where everyone has a stick up their ass, she decidedly doesn’t. Her irreverence is like a breath of cool, spring air. So refreshing. It’s better than any spa treatment I’ve ever had.
LaShonda: What. The. Actual. and I say this with my full chest. Heck?
I can’t help but smile because I see her expressive face in my mind, saying those words, hand pressed over her heart in exasperation.
Katherine: You saw?
Three dots immediately appear.
LaShonda: It’s everywhere.
Great. I rub my forehead. That’s not what I needed to hear. I was really hoping for a simple ‘ Your dress looks amazing . ’
A screenshot of me on the stage pops up. It was taken from midway back in the ballroom. It’s not a great shot, but I look somewhere between poised and deer in headlights.
LaShonda: there’s video from the auction. socials are blowing up. you’re the #twomilliondollargirl
Ohmygod. My muscles go slack, and the phone falls from my hand, cartwheeling across the floor. This is not happening. I cannot be a trending hashtag.
Anxiety spiking again, I glance out the door at Alex. He must feel my gaze because his eyes lock with mine, and he reads something in my expression. He says something to his best friend and then climbs inside.
“What is it?” He reaches for my phone, offering it as he crouches in front of me. Those massive hands close over my knees, sending a streak of heat through me.
“Look.” I nod toward the screen where LaShonda’s message is displayed.
He glances at it, reading quickly, his brow going from lifted in concern to knitted with annoyance. The wretched device buzzes in his hand, and I see another text bubble pop up at the top of the screen.
“We’re going to get out of the city. Somewhere safe and private and then we’ll see what’s what. Okay?”
He’s handling me.
That soothing tone. The steadiness in his voice that calms my nerves. He really is good at this.
I nod, and he hands over my phone.
“You’re not alone in this... adventure, Katherine.” He gives my knee a reassuring squeeze, and for a split second, I can almost believe him. Does he really think this is an adventure?
Gabe climbs in and shuts the door. He stares at us as he takes the seat across from me, his tall, tuxedo-clad body folding into the seat. His long fingers work the seatbelt, securing it tightly across his lap.
Is he afraid of flying?
My phone buzzes again, and I glance down to see my friend’s latest text.
LaShonda: you okay?
A lump wedges in my throat. There’s no sweeter gift in the world than a loyal friend who knows you well enough to see through your silence.
Katherine: I’ll call you as soon as I can.
No sooner have I hit send than I get yet another message. This one is from Kingston.
I smile .
“They’re not all bad, then?” Alex asks as he stands. I lift my gaze to find him staring at my phone. He has to duck because he’s so tall.
“Not all of them. I haven’t read the ones from my mother yet.”
“What will she say?” he asks, lowering himself into the chair next to Gabe.
His question pricks at my worries. How can I be both angry at my mother and worried about upsetting her? It doesn’t make sense, and yet, there it is.
I glance out at the city I’ve always called home. The helicopter lifts off the helipad, as delicate as a hummingbird.
“She’ll admonish me for making a spectacle of myself. Tell me how disappointed she is. How I represent the company and the family. Blah, blah, blah.” As far as I’m concerned, I can lay this wild evening at her feet. She’s the one who signed me up for the auction. But she’d never see it that way.
Because Lucinda Winthrop is never at fault.
“I’m shocked,” Gabe says, his tone dry.
I cut him a glance and find his blue eyes full of mischief.
God, he’s handsome. And so cocky. A half-smirk hovers at the corner of his sinful mouth, and some of my annoyance and anxiety slide away.
Why did he do it?
Why did Alex?
I can’t wrap my mind around what just happened. Any of it. And why did I have to open my mouth and toss out the offer?
Two dates.
Two million dollars.
Surely no woman is worth that. No date could be?—
Alex leans forward, forearms braced on his knees. His broad shoulders draw my attention. “You’re overthinking, aren’t you?”
He says it just softly enough that I have to strain to hear him. I look at Gabe to see if he heard or listening, but his gaze is out the window and far away.
I lick my lips and return my attention to the eagle-eyed Alex. How does he know what’s going on in my mind? Probably because overthinking is standard operating procedure for me, and I’m betting he has plenty of experience with people like me.
He’s still waiting for my answer.
A man with patience. When was the last time I met one of those?
My phone vibrates with an incoming call, and I glance at the screen. My mother’s name appears across the top.
“I can’t imagine why I overthink things,” I murmur, flashing him a quick glimpse of my phone before I send the call to voicemail.
I’m way too raw tonight to hear the disapproval in her tone. She’s never understood my underlying anxiety, and if she knew about the panic attacks, I’d bet every penny I own that she’d downplay it.
“That’ll do it,” he says and sits back in his seat.
We’re quiet for a while. A companionable and, at the same time, tense silence. Is it sinking in to them what they’ve done? The attention they’ll attract in the coming week?
Gabriel was a target before. Tech’s Boy Wonder who became a titan. On the covers of magazines. He’s been a household name since before I was in high school. Everyone wants a piece of his brilliant mind and his technology.
I wish I could believe that an auction like this would be a blip on the radar. It shouldn’t be. But the amount of money raised will be in all the papers, and the foundation will never stop touting it.
Why would they?
Alex and Gabe’s names, not to mention mine, will attract attention to their cause for a long time.
And Alex... From what I gather, he lives his life well out of the spotlight. He knows everyone, and everyone knows him, but why did he do it? Why did he put himself and his checkbook on display like that?
Except, I know the answer to that, don’t I? He’d seen my anxiety and wasn’t about to let me flounder alone.
I should have kissed him in the backseat of his SUV when I had the chance. The truth burns through me. I wanted to. Badly.
I glance at my phone again, at all the text messages piling up. People I know and love, people I’ve barely spoken to before. Nameless numbers.
Everyone wants a piece. They always do. I don’t know how Ford lives life so out in the open. And Amelia, well, she’s been the drama queen/daughter my mother always wanted since she could say her first word. Gimme.
I’m definitely at the bottom of the totem pole until my mother wants something from me. I don’t want to live like that anymore.
Ignore my wishes, mother, and I’ll ignore yours.
More anxiety slips from my shoulders.
I click on Kingston’s name.
Kingston: told you the green dress was the one.
I huff a laugh. He might try to ignore the Saint blood running through his veins, but over a century of design prowess would be hard to deny.
Katherine: You were right. As usual.
When it comes to dressing well, he’s got it down to an art form. Generations of Saints would roll over in their graves otherwise. From his great-great-great grandmother, who started what is now one of the world’s most exclusive luxury brands with her cosmetic line. And then every generation since has expanded and grown the company to include clothing, handbags, and even home decor.
Except for Kingston. He noped out of the chaos before his twenty-fourth birthday.
“What are you smiling about?” Gabe asks.
I meet his gaze. “A good friend.”
“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” His lips pull up in a sinful smirk.
“It’s not like that, not that it’s any of your business.”
“I made it my business tonight.”