Chapter 8
VICTORIA
Ismoothed my hands down the front of my dress for what had to be the hundredth time that evening.
The fabric was a cornflower blue that Betty insisted brought out my eyes.
I’d actually spent money I didn’t have on it because tonight needed to be perfect.
Not for me. For the charity. That’s what I kept telling myself as I’d spent an extra forty-five minutes on my hair and makeup.
It had nothing to do with the fact that Callum Blackwell was going to be there.
Nothing at all.
I was being ridiculous. The man had literally knocked me on my ass and hadn’t even apologized. He’d smiled about it later when we’d crossed paths in the restaurant. He was arrogant and careless and exactly the kind of man I’d spent the last few years of my life avoiding.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about those green eyes.
“You look amazing,” Betty said, appearing at my elbow with a clipboard clutched to her chest. She looked frazzled but happy, which meant everything was going according to plan. “Seriously, that dress is killer.”
“Thanks.” I tugged at the hem self-consciously. “How’s everything looking out there?”
“Full house. Every seat is taken, and we’ve got people standing in the back. Max Blackwell really came through for us.” She flipped through her clipboard. “The catering is on schedule. And our bachelors are all checked in backstage.”
My stomach did a little flip. “All of them?”
“Yep. Including the Blackwell boys.” She gave me a knowing look. “You nervous?”
“Why would I be nervous?”
“Because you’ve been fidgeting with that dress since you got here, and you only do that when you’re anxious about something.”
I hated that she knew me so well. “I’m fine. Just want everything to go smoothly.”
“It will.” She squeezed my arm. “You did the hard part. You got them here. Now all you have to do is sit back and think about all the children we’ll be helping.”
She hurried off to handle something else.
I made my way backstage. The area behind the curtain was buzzing with activity.
Men in suits and tuxedos stood around in small clusters, some looking confident, others looking like they wanted to run.
I recognized a few faces—a local news anchor, a professional athlete, a tech entrepreneur who’d recently made headlines for selling his company.
He wasn’t attractive, but he was wealthy and that basically made him the sexiest man alive.
And then I saw him.
Callum Blackwell stood near the back corner, talking to his brother.
They were both wearing tailored tuxedos.
Probably from Blackwell Couture. They looked like they’d stepped right off a runway.
Callum’s hair was styled perfectly, and even from across the room, I could see those green eyes that had haunted me since I’d first seen them.
He was just too damn sexy for my own good. I had to remind myself he was a first-class asshole. I didn’t need that kind of drama in my life.
“Well, hello there.”
I looked up at a man I didn’t recognize.
He was tall, probably in his early thirties, with sandy blond hair and a smile that was a little too friendly.
He was handsome in a generic, country club way.
He was the kind of guy that had a trust fund and a summer house in the Hamptons. And never worked a day in his life.
“Hi,” I said, keeping my tone polite, for the children.
“I’m Jeff Connors.” He extended his hand. I shook it briefly. His grip lingered a beat too long, squeezing and subtly pulling me into him. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
“Victoria Cavendish. I work with the charity.”
He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “My mother insisted I participate. Said it would be good for my image.”
“That’s very generous of you.”
“I’m a generous guy.” He took a step closer, invading my personal space. He still had my hand. I could smell his cologne and it wasn’t good. Pretty sure it was toxic. “So, are you going to bid on me?”
I took a step back, trying to maintain some distance while pulling my hand. He finally released it. “I’m actually working tonight.”
He moved closer again, and I found myself backed up against an equipment case. “You must have a favorite. Someone you’ve got your eye on.”
“I’m just here to make sure everything runs smoothly.”
“That’s too bad.” His voice dropped lower. I was sure it was supposed to be sexy but he was missing the mark by a lot. He leaned in like we were sharing a secret. “Because you know what? You don’t even need to bid on me. I’ll give you a night with me for free.”
My skin crawled. I pressed myself harder against the case, looking for an escape route. “I’m good.”
“I’m serious.” He put his hand on the case next to my shoulder, effectively caging me in. “Why waste your money when I’m offering? We could skip all this auction nonsense and just get out of here.”
“Jeff, I see you’re being as charming as always.” Whoever owned that deep voice behind me was officially my hero.
Jeff straightened immediately, his hand dropping from the case.
“Why don’t you take a step back and let the girl breathe?” the voice said.
It wasn’t a suggestion.
Jeff’s jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed. “We were just talking.”
“Looked like more than that to me.”
“She didn’t mind,” Jeff said.
“She did,” I replied.
Jeff snorted and walked away.
I turned around and wanted to melt into the floor.
Callum Blackwell and his brother stood in front of me.
The lighting in this dingy backstage area somehow made them look even better, which didn’t seem physically possible.
Drew was grinning at me like we were old friends.
Callum was staring at me with a confused expression, his brow furrowed slightly.
I felt my entire body tense. His eyes traveled over my face. I watched the exact moment recognition hit. His expression shifted from confusion to surprise.
“We meet again, restaurant girl,” he said. There was amusement in his voice that made me want to kick him in the shin.
“You’re not going to run me down again, are you?” I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to look more confident than I felt.
“That depends. Are you planning to stand in a doorway again?”
“I wasn’t standing in a doorway. I was standing on a sidewalk. You know, where pedestrians are generally allowed to be.”
He shrugged. “Okay, maybe I was a little distracted.”
“By what? Your own reflection?”
Drew burst out laughing. “Oh, I like her.”
Callum shot his brother a look before turning back to me. “I was actually on my way to a terrible date. Not that it’s an excuse.”
“It’s not,” I agreed. I forced myself to take a breath and slip back into professional mode. I didn’t want to scare him off before the auction. “I’m Victoria Cavendish. I work with the charity organizing tonight’s event.”
“Ah.” Something shifted in his expression. “So you’re the one I have to thank for this.”
“Your father volunteered you, actually. But yes, I’m coordinating everything.” I kept my voice pleasant and professional. “It’s a really good cause. Everyone appreciates you being here.”
“Did you just thank me for something my father forced me to do?”
“I thanked you for showing up. You could have said no.”
“Could I though?” He tilted his head, studying me. “Have you met my father?”
“Once. He seemed very persuasive.”
“That’s a diplomatic way of putting it.” He took a step closer, and I caught a whiff of his cologne.
His scent was intoxicating in the best way.
The cologne worked for him. Enhanced him, unlike the stink cloud from the last billionaire who stood close to me.
“So, are you planning to bid on anyone tonight?”
“I’m working.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only answer you’re getting.” I was acutely aware of how close he was standing. How tall he was. How those green eyes seemed to see right through me.
How did one man get all the looks? The cocky bastard was perfect. Like someone hand-picked every perfect feature and put it in one man.
“I was hoping you’d—oh shit.” His entire demeanor changed in an instant. “Hide me.”
“What?”
“Please. I’m begging you. Hide me right now.”
I followed his gaze and saw a woman making her way through the backstage area. She was wearing what looked like the ass end of a peacock sitting on her head. Her dress was sequined within an inch of its life, and she was holding her phone up, clearly filming everything.
“Who is that?”
“Chantilly. The terrible date I mentioned.” He moved behind me slightly and ducked, using me as a human hiding place. “The one from the restaurant. She’s been stalking me ever since. Please tell me you have somewhere I can hide.”
“I’ll run interference,” Drew said.
I should have left Callum to deal with his own problems. He was arrogant and annoying. But he had just helped me escape from Jeff Connors, and he was here for the children.
“Fine. Come with me.” I grabbed his arm and pulled him toward a side door I’d noticed earlier during set up. It led to what looked like a storage room—boxes of supplies, extra chairs, and random equipment stashed away and forgotten.
I closed the door behind us and turned to find Callum leaning against a stack of boxes, looking genuinely relieved.
“Thank you,” he said. “Seriously. You just saved my life.”
“That’s a bit dramatic.”
“You haven’t met Chantilly.” He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up slightly. Somehow he looked even better disheveled. “She’s been texting me nonstop.”
“Maybe you should have been nicer to her.”
“I was perfectly nice. I sat through an entire dinner while she filmed herself eating caviar and complaining about everything. The fire alarm took way longer than I expected.”
“Wait, did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“That fire alarm seems to have been very convenient.”
He flashed a grin. “I plead the fifth.”
My eyes widened. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
He had the nerve to laugh.
I stared at him in absolute disbelief. “Seriously, you’re the reason I got soaked?”
“I’m sorry for getting you all wet.” He had the audacity to look sheepish, but his eyes were still dancing with amusement.
“It was a code red. We only use that in the most desperate of times. My brother pulled the fire alarm so I could escape that date, but we didn’t know the sprinklers would go off. ”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He was a punk kid. Spoiled. Entitled. Obnoxious.
My hands balled into fists at my sides. “You deliberately set off a fire alarm just to get out of a bad date?”
“Drew did, technically. I just texted him.”
“Oh, well, that makes it so much better!” My voice was rising, and I didn’t care. “Do you have any idea how illegal that is? How dangerous?”
“No one was hurt.”
“That’s not the point!” I was practically vibrating with anger now. “You treated an entire restaurant full of people like props in your little escape plan. None of us mattered as long as you got what you wanted.”
“It was just a prank.”
“A prank?” I laughed, but there was no humor in it. “A prank is putting salt in the sugar bowl. What you did was create a legitimate emergency situation because you couldn’t be bothered to just end a date like a normal person. Coward. Absolute fucking coward.”
He straightened up, his expression shifting from amused to defensive. “Okay, look, I know it sounds bad but I’m not a coward.”
“It doesn’t just sound bad. It is bad.” I took a step toward him, jabbing my finger in his direction.
“You know what that little prank cost me? My dress. A dress I couldn’t afford to replace.
And my shoes were completely ruined. I’m sure other diners had ruined clothes.
Phones. Not everyone has a billion dollars in the bank! ”
“I’ll buy you new ones.”
“I don’t want you to buy me anything!” I threw my hands in the air. “I don’t want your money or your half-assed apologies. Just be a decent human. I’m guessing that’s too much to ask from someone like you.”
His jaw tightened. “Someone like me?”
“Rich. Entitled. So used to getting exactly what you want that you don’t even consider how your actions affect other people.
” I couldn’t stop myself. “You knocked me over and didn’t apologize.
You set off a fire alarm and flooded an entire restaurant.
And now you’re standing here trying to make it sound like it was all just harmless fun.
Worse, it’s your default for getting out of an uncomfortable situation. My God. Grow the fuck up!”
I turned toward the door. “I have an auction to run. One that you’re participating in, whether you like it or not. If a fire alarm goes off, I’m telling the police it was you.”
I yanked the door open and stormed out, my heels clicking against the concrete floor with each angry step. He said something but I ignored him. If I looked at him again, I might actually throw something.
I made my way back to the main backstage area, my mind racing. The audacity of that man. The absolute, infuriating audacity.
Well, two could play at that game.
An idea started forming in my mind. It was petty. It was probably beneath me. But the more I thought about it, the more perfect it seemed. If Callum Blackwell wanted to treat people like pawns in his little games, then maybe it was time someone gave him a taste of his own medicine.
I scanned the backstage area, looking for one specific person. It didn’t take long to spot her. Chantilly was near the refreshment table, filming herself drinking what looked like sparkling water. The peacock on her head bobbed with each movement.
Callum Blackwell was going to pay.