Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The late-afternoon sun spilled over the Getty Center’s white stone terraces like molten gold, reflecting on glass panels and sculpted edges as if the entire place had been designed for this exact hour. Below the center, Los Angeles stretched endlessly in a hazy, powerful, and untouchable way.
Everything was perfect. Thank God for that, because perfection was not an option at this evening’s event… it was expected. As usual, my team brought it better than anyone else could. Even though it all had my personal stamp of approval, I had to ensure that everything we did was flawless.
“Aria,” I said, not looking away from the west terrace, “the floral installation is leaning to the left. It’s coming off as too heavy.”
I heard her softly inhale into my earpiece, “I was going for asymmetrical romance—”
“I’m not seeing that at all. It looks unbalanced.”
“I’m adjusting it right now.”
“Thank you,” I said with a smile.
Her heart was in the right place, but it wouldn’t work for the gala Evelyn Laurent was hosting. The ivory orchids needed to feel intentional, not emotional. There was a difference.
“Marcus?”
“Lighting sync is locked,” he replied instantly. “We’re tracking the sun. The stage will transition at exactly seventeen minutes past sunset. Audio grid is clean. Backup grid is live.”
“Excellent,” I answered. “Jules, how are we with guests arriving?”
“Prince Kareem Al-Hassan has arrived,” Jules said smoothly. “He prefers to keep his distance from the Zurich group. History there.”
I nodded. “Move Zurich,” I answered. “Not the prince.”
“Already handled.”
This is why my team and I were hired for this particular event.
It wasn’t just another gala; it was a legacy.
The Laurent Foundation Gala for Pediatric Neuro Trauma and Recovery was entirely funded by old money, but it also highlighted guests with new influence.
Tonight would host the kind of room where reputations were quietly built… or erased.
“Lena?” I asked.
“All good on my end.”
“Very well, let’s keep everything moving forward with precision.”
“Cat?”
I turned at the sound of Avery Mitchell’s voice and softened instantly. I smiled when I noticed her standing near one of the VIP tables, beside Natalia Monroe and Jessa Brandt. All three women were dressed in gowns that screamed understated wealth.
Avery looked elegant as always in deep emerald silk, standing next to her husband, Jim, whose calm presence somehow always commanded a room without effort.
Natalia looked devastatingly gorgeous in a black satin gown, one manicured hand resting possessively on her husband Spencer’s shoulder.
I swear that man watched the room like he already knew every secret in it.
Those two were practically the blueprint of a power couple.
And even though Jessa was part of this group of friends, I’d rarely seen her attend hospital events like this one.
You’d never guess that, though, looking at her tonight in a soft champagne-colored gown that made her look like she belonged at every gala she walked into.
She stood beside her husband, Cameron Brandt, which was likely the reason she was here at all.
Dr. Brandt was the top pediatric neurosurgeon at Saint John’s, and while the man was always smiling, he still carried the quiet severity that seemed to come naturally to many in his field.
“You made this place look unbelievable,” Avery said as I approached the group.
I smiled warmly. “Thanks, babe. You look positively stunning tonight.”
“Comes with the job, I guess,” she said with a laugh.
“I will never understand how you can transform a room like this,” Nat chimed in, leaning toward me and giving me a soft kiss on the cheek.
“Let’s just say I do my best work on things I’m passionate about,” I smiled back at her.
Nat’s eyes narrowed slightly as she glanced past me toward the terrace entrance. Then she smirked.
“Oh hell.”
I frowned faintly. “What?”
Before Nat could answer, the energy in the room shifted. Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just enough. I watched conversations soften, heads turn, and the security at the entrance subtly straighten.
Only one person, silenced the room and grabbed everyone’s attention by simply walking in. I slowly turned toward the entrance and watched as Titus Hawk stepped onto the terrace as if the evening itself belonged to him.
I exhaled, wondering why seeing him tonight was having some bizarre effect on me. It was annoying and completely unlike me.
“Didn’t Mr. Hawk have an event planned on his yacht in the Aegean Sea this weekend?” I asked, taking in the image of him.
The man was dressed in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo that looked criminal on him, the jacket cut broad across the shoulders and tapering sharply at the waist. No tie. The top button of his crisp white shirt was undone just enough to make the entire look feel more dangerous than formal.
Spencer eyed me with a knowing grin. “Rumor has it he failed to secure an event planner and had to cancel.”
“What?” I answered, knowing there was no way that man would cancel an event just because he couldn’t hire a planner.
I continued to study him as he walked through the room. His dark hair was neatly smoothed back, and an expensive watch caught the gold light as he adjusted the cuff of his sleeve. Everything about his presence was controlled, powerful, and infuriatingly attractive.
The most annoying part about the man was that he was fully aware of the attention he commanded without needing to acknowledge even a second of it.
“From the look on your face,” Jim said with humor in his voice, “I’m assuming you were the one who rejected the proposal he offered you?”
I immediately stopped staring at the man and forced my attention back to the group I was standing with.
“I did, but I’m fairly positive I’m not the only event planner the man could’ve hired.”
“Oh, please, honey,” Nat said with a laugh. “You two are playing a powerful game of cat and mouse. I’m just curious to see how it turns out in the end.”
“Cat and mouse?” I said, knowing I needed to drop the conversation and refocus on the event.
“Sure,” Nat answered. “He hires you; you reject him. He brings you to his place; you reject him. He keeps planning shit, and you keep rejecting him.”
“Cat and mouse,” Avery stated as if Titus and I were somehow making it to couples’ night talks inside everyone’s houses these days.
“Well, I know I’m not talking about this to anyone,” I answered. “So there’s only one person who’s made you aware of it.”
“The man himself,” Spencer answered, the look on his face making it clear that Titus was telling everyone about our interactions.
“Listen,” I smiled. “Before I get back to work, whatever that man is saying to all of you, it is strictly business between him and me.”
Titus’s gaze swept across the terrace and settled directly on me. Heat climbed annoyingly up my spine.
As a welcome distraction, Evelyn Laurent appeared beside me, and I instantly shifted back into professional mode.
“Evelyn,” I greeted her warmly.
She looked stunning tonight in a silver-gray couture gown that draped elegantly over her tall frame, the beading subtle yet impossibly expensive beneath the terrace lights. Diamond earrings caught softly in her dark hair, styled into a sleek twist at the nape of her neck.
Everything about Evelyn Laurent radiated old-money sophistication and controlled grace.
But for some strange reason, she looked emotional right now, which immediately caught my attention.
I was immediately concerned that we may not have met her expectations in some way.
Shit.
“Darling,” she said softly, touching my arm. “There’s something I wanted to tell you personally before I make the announcement later this evening.”
I smiled, grateful that her tone didn’t express her being upset.
“Announcement? I wasn’t aware that you would be on stage tonight?”
“I wasn’t planning on it, no.” A slow smile touched her lips. “But we received an extraordinary donation tonight.”
“That’s wonderful,” I answered with a smile.
“It was made in your name.”
I stared at her in confusion. “In my name?”
Evelyn’s expression warmed further. “The donor wished the contribution to honor the work you did for this evening and your commitment to keeping your word in planning it for us.”
Confusion hit me first. Then, I had a feeling I knew exactly who the donor was.
It had to be Titus. Maybe this was a silly little game of cat and mouse that Titus and I were playing, but I wasn’t trying to play games at all.
And now he’s donating to this event in my name because I wouldn’t cancel on Evelyn and plan his yacht event?
“Mr. Hawk truly appreciates your dedication to my evening and foundation, which inspired him to make his donation in your honor,” she said.
“No,” I said immediately.
“Oh shit,” Nat said, covering her laugh and smile.
“Bold move,” Cameron said, raising his glass toward the spot where I last saw Titus. “Sounds like you’ve certainly caught the man’s attention.”
Evelyn’s smile widened slightly. “Oh, yes.”
I stared at Evelyn while everyone else’s voices faded into background noise.
“I’m sorry, but I truly don’t think he would do that.” I knew it didn’t make sense, but I said it anyway.
I closed my eyes briefly. Something felt so off about this that I had to know exactly how much the man donated. It felt manipulative and strangely thoughtful all at once, which somehow made it worse.
“How much did Mr. Hawk donate?” I asked carefully.
Evelyn hesitated only half a second. “Eight hundred and twenty-five thousand.”
The exact amount the man offered me to work his yacht event this weekend. I nearly laughed out loud. Not because it was funny, but because it was positively insane.
That arrogant, manipulative, son of a—
“Cat?” Avery said after I closed my eyes to regain my composure.
When I reopened them, I saw that Titus was now standing directly beside Evelyn.
“Ms. Veléz,” he said smoothly, his voice lower beneath the music and conversation around us. “You look stunning tonight.”
I straightened slightly. “Thank you, Mr. Hawk.”
What the fuck?
“Titus,” he corrected softly. “I trust that Evelyn has informed you about the donation I made in your honor this evening?”
“She did,” I said. “Thank you. Now,” I smiled at the amused expressions on my friends’ faces, then looked at Evelyn, “forgive me, but I must return to my duties for the evening. I trust all of you will have a wonderful evening.”
My formality forced itself to the surface, and I couldn’t contain how firm and rigid I suddenly sounded. I know everyone must’ve found it funny… but I didn’t. I found it confusing, and I truly didn’t know what the hell to think about this man.
I couldn’t keep pondering any of it, though. Tonight was about the benefit, and my team and I were going to make sure everything ran smoothly—even up until the point when my damn name was called out as possibly one of the largest donations of the night.