Chapter 2
Gianna
“Jer?” I ask, staring at the dress hanging in the door frame between my room and the bathroom. It wasn’t here before he came over after work. I had barely paid him any attention while finishing up dinner.
“Don’t be mad,” he says, coming to wrap his arms around my waist.
“When you say that, I’m already irritated.” I huff, unable to peel my eyes away from the dress. It’s gorgeous, dark red and silky, and I know it would fit me like a dream. But it also fills me with dread because I know what’s going to come with it, and I’m not sure I want to leave the house.
“There’s a company party tonight. Most of the managing partners from other cities flew in.” He kisses the side of my head. “I would appreciate it if my beautiful girlfriend would join me.”
I sigh. “Jeremy—”
“I’m making junior partner. They’re announcing it tonight.”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I turn in his arms and push my face against his chest. “That’s amazing, babe.”
He hugs me tighter and then cradles my face in his hands, tilting my head to look at him. His curly brown hair is unstyled, and his warm brown eyes watch me with patience. “If you feel overwhelmed, we can leave.”
I feel a pang of guilt at the lie he believes. Jeremy thinks I don’t go out because I have social anxiety so bad that it triggers panic attacks. My brother paid a doctor to explain how large crowds could affect me.
In reality, I avoid the public because I have a multimillionaire ex-boyfriend who can’t let me go, actively stalks me, and the more I hide my face, the better off I am.
I’m not sure how I’ll even react if I ever see Sebastian again.
I can’t go a day without thinking of him, indulging in grief over our relationship, then snapping back into the terror of what I witnessed.
Jeremy and I have been dating for less than two years after constantly running into each other at my old apartment building.
He’s been patient with my condition but is starting to get annoyed, wondering why I’m not willing to make an effort on his behalf.
I know I will have to give in eventually, and I can’t come up with a good reason not to attend this promotion party.
“I’ll be fine. I promise.”
He smiles back, the tiny dimple in his left cheek popping out. I love that dimple. Everything about Jeremy is soft, warm, and inviting. He’s never stepped over the line, nor has he pressured me for more than a heavy makeout session. I feel safe with Jeremy.
“Want to shower first, or can I hop in? We have a couple of hours before we need to be there.”
“Go ahead.” I wave him off and step into the kitchen, calling my brother.
“Where is he?” I ask as soon as he answers.
Matt is silent for a few seconds before he sighs. “I thought we were past this.”
“Jeremy wants me to attend a company party tonight. I just—need that…” I trail off, because telling him I need extra reassurance sounds worse when I say it out loud.
I hold my breath at the clicking of my brother’s keyboard, guessing he’s probably still in his office in the city.
“Last update has him in London.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, pushing a calming hand against my stomach as I try to settle my nerves. I know the possibility of running into him at this particular party is nearly impossible, but I can’t shake this foreboding feeling.
“Gianna, we decided when you wanted to start dating again that he was the past. I told you he stopped using resources we could track to locate you years ago. You’re safe.” Matt sighs again, his voice tired. “And in the astronomically small chance he is there, we prepared you.”
He’s right. When my brother rushed me out of college, he put me into multiple mixed arts for defensive training. We even went as far as having a bracelet made with a built-in panic button for a security detail that always lingers nearby. When I leave my home, I’m never without a weapon.
“I know. I’m sorry for bothering you.” I stare up at my ceiling, willing the tears from my embarrassment away.
“You never do, G. But I thought you were moving on. Perhaps we should move you closer—”
“No!” I exclaim. “I’m fine. I swear. I just needed that. It’s about time I stop hiding indoors anyway.” Living near my brother again would drive me insane. Even an hour’s drive doesn’t prevent him from dropping by unannounced.
“Alright,” he says. “I’ll be available all night, okay?”
I shake my head. “No. Don’t wait around for me. Go have fun.”
He laughs, probably because fun has never been in Matt’s vocabulary. We hang up after exchanging goodbyes.
Jeremy is already out of the shower by the time I make it to the bedroom, and the rest of the early evening blurs as I get ready for the event in a daze.
I haven't mentally prepared for tonight to be the night I brave mingling among the public again, but it seems a bit silly to turn Jeremy down.
Imagining the worst possible scenarios consumes my thoughts.
I go through the motions and snap back out of my head when I feel him scoot closer. I’m not sure how long we’ve been driving until I realize we’ve passed state lines and are in Manhattan.
“Thank you for coming with me tonight.” Jeremy kisses my knuckles with a soft hand squeeze. Adoration swims in his deep brown eyes.
I give him a small smile. “Of course. You said it’s important to you.”
The limo stops, and I grimace at the cameras lined up on the sidewalk on the side of the building. A small red carpet leads from where we’re parked to the entrance.
The flashing and yelling begins as photographers and journalists swarm closer to the carpet.
Jeremy beams, opening the door and stepping out.
He reaches in and holds out his hand for me.
I grasp it tightly and get out of the limo.
I keep my head angled down, hoping to keep my face out of the photos and annoyed that Jeremy didn’t warn me about the press.
He pulls me closer to his side and hurries us along the red carpet to the building. Men dressed in black suits push the photographers back as we walk. I finally feel like I can breathe again when we make it to the elevator. One of the men follows and joins us on the ride to the roof terrace.
“What was that about?” I can’t keep the irritation out of my voice.
Jeremy stares at me sullenly. “Some guests are high-profile clients. I didn’t think it would be like that.”
I nod, not happy about it, but nothing I say or do now will change it. After a few seconds of silence, he changes the subject.
“Have I told you how beautiful you are tonight?” Jeremy asks, stepping back to appreciate the dress he bought. I curled my long, dark hair in loose ringlets, painting my lips a matching red and darkening my brown eyes with black liner.
“Multiple times.” I blush, not daring to look at the bodyguard standing silently in the corner.
“Well, I’ll just have to keep telling you because you are stunning, babe.” He grabs my hand, leading me into a small twirl as I laugh, pushing him away. Some of my tension and nerves from earlier ease.
“Stop.” I giggle. “We can dance later.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” he says as the elevator dings and the door opens. It’s a beautiful night for a celebration. Jeremy’s company rented out a hotel rooftop and has spared no expense on decor and catering. Lights floating in small barrels sit randomly throughout the terrace.
“Wow,” I gush, “this is amazing.”
“Come on, let me introduce you to some of my coworkers.” He grins, sliding his hand around my elbow to lead me to a group of people standing near one of the bars.
Lawyers and bankers all seem to dress the same, in different shades of gray and black suits, with gelled-back hair and bleached white teeth.
All of their faces are tight with barely any expression.
Either they have Botox or none of them have a personality based on their fake smiles.
And if it’s the former, then I’ll need the doctor’s name because it’s impeccable work.
“Mr. Warner, this is my beautiful girlfriend, Gianna.” Jeremy introduces me proudly to an older gentleman. I have heard enough about his coworkers to know this is the man Jeremy works with the most, one of the firm’s founders.
“Ah, the infamous Gianna. We’ve heard so much about you.
I’m glad we finally get to meet you,” he says, his eyes leering down my body in a quick, uncomfortable sweep that has me stepping closer to Jeremy.
His mostly gray hair is let loose on top of his head, and I wonder if it’s because if he gelled it back, we would see his balding spots.
“Sorry about that. I don’t do well with crowds,” I reply with a small smile, letting Jeremy wrap his arm around my waist and hold me closer.
I glance around at the other men around us, avoiding Mr. Warner’s wandering eyes, and find the men closer to our age.
This man is a creep, and I’m sure he’s the type who pays for escorts right out of high school to appeal to his perverted tastes.
“Rick Easton,” the man closest to Mr. Warner says, holding out his hand.
Over the next hour, that’s how the rest of the introductions go.
Stiff smiles, handshakes, awkward niceties.
Occasionally, someone comments on how I’ve been a ghost for the past two years at company parties.
Every time they do, Jeremy holds me closer and quickly steers us away from them.
We stand near the bar on the other side of a makeshift stage, where others are lingering over a table laid with food, and I sip my wine.
Alcohol is needed to talk to this boring crowd of people pleasers.
I didn’t realize how much I missed my old friends until now.
I’ve kept myself busy and focused, basically deleting everyone from that time.
“That wasn’t so bad, right?” Jeremy interrupts my thoughts, and I nod, giving him a brief smile. Every glimpse of a dirty blond head in the crowd has my heart skipping a beat and my stomach dropping, but it always turns out to be another unfamiliar face.