Chapter 30
MELODY
Iwas so far out of my comfort zone I might as well have been on Mars.
The ballroom looked like it belonged in a movie about obscenely wealthy people doing obscenely wealthy things.
Everything glittered. The chandeliers, the jewelry dripping from necks and wrists, even the champagne seemed to sparkle more than physics should allow.
And the people. God, the people. They shone like polished gems all around me. Models. Celebrities. Politicians. I had never seen so much money in one place before. And it was all so normal for Austin.
Well, normal was probably not the right word.
He looked comfortable, but I could see he was counting down the minutes until he could escape.
After getting to know him the little I did, I knew it wasn’t his scene.
Austin was not the kind of guy that liked to schmooze.
He would prefer to be kicked back in a pair of sweats with a cold beer.
But damn, the man looked good in a tuxedo.
I’d been here for maybe an hour. I was ready to leave fifty-five minutes ago. I’d already had three separate conversations that felt like fever dreams.
“Oh, you’re a fashion influencer?” one woman had said, her tone making it sound like I’d admitted to being a professional mime. “How… quaint. I have someone who does my shopping for me. Much more efficient.”
Another couple had asked what I did, and when I’d explained about plus-size fashion advocacy, the woman had touched my arm and said, “That’s so brave. I could never be comfortable at your size. But good for you!”
I had smiled politely and excused myself before I said something that would end up as a blind item in tomorrow’s gossip columns.
A man who introduced himself as “Preston, of the Charleston Prestons” had asked how I knew Austin. Did I serve him his coffee? Or was I waitress? That one had nearly broken my composure.
These people lived in a different world. One where summers were a verb and winter meant Aspen or St. Moritz. Conversations centered around yacht maintenance and which private school was “going downhill.”
I couldn’t relate to any of it. Didn’t want to relate to any of it.
The whole evening felt pointless. It was an extravagant display of wealth and influence where people came to see and be seen, to make connections that would make them richer. It was all about reminding each other of their place in the social hierarchy.
I was ready to fake a headache and call a car home. But Austin couldn’t leave and I wasn’t going to leave him by himself. So I kept my smile in place. I made more small talk with people I hoped I never saw again.
I listened to a woman drone on and on about the designer that she hired to decorate her home in the Hamptons. She was angry the man had gone with cottage blue instead of robin’s egg blue. They were currently in court over it.
While she talked, I made a mental grocery list. It would be rude to pull out my phone and pull up the delivery app, so I did it in my head.
My eyes drifted around the room. I caught Austin looking at me from across the ballroom. He was standing with two other men. The man looked like he was ready to pull his hair out.
His lips quirked in the tiniest smile. And everything shifted.
He looked at me like I was the only person in the room. Like everyone else was just background noise and I was the only thing that mattered. Like he saw me. Really saw me.
I saw so much warmth in that one look. He appreciated that I was here. It meant a lot to me to know he wanted me here. That he needed me here.
I felt myself relax for the first time since I had arrived. That cute little smile had given me the fortitude I needed to get through another hour of small talk with people had nothing in common with.
Maybe I could do this. I could be uncomfortable and endure condescending conversations and sideways looks and thinly veiled judgment. If Austin kept looking at me like that, I was pretty sure I could walk through fire for him.
I turned my attention back to the woman who was now talking about the artwork she didn’t want. I made a few sounds to let her know I was listening.
He excused himself from whatever conversation he’d been trapped in and made his way across the ballroom toward me. People stepped aside, creating a path, like they instinctively knew to make room for a Bancroft.
“Having fun?” he asked when he reached me, his voice low and warm. He very carefully guided me away from the woman. She just kept talking to the other people clustered around her.
“Define fun,” I said.
“Fair point.” His hand found the small of my back, warm even through the silk of my dress. “Dance with me?”
“Are you sure?” I asked. “Shouldn’t we schmooze?”
“Please?” His thumb moved in a small circle on my back. I felt that touch everywhere. “Save me from having to make small talk with my father’s business associates about quarterly earnings and their new private jets.”
“Well, when you put it that way, how can I say no? You’re a man in need.”
He guided me onto the dance floor. I was acutely aware of every eye following us. The Bancroft family watched from various corners of the ballroom. We were definitely making a statement.
“You’re putting on quite a show,” I said as we fell into the rhythm of a slow waltz. His hand on my waist, my hand in his, moving together like we’d done this a thousand times.
He looked down at me, his dark eyes intense. “Who said anything about this being a show?”
My heart skipped. Several beats. “What?”
“This. You being here. Us dancing.” His voice was quiet, meant only for me despite the crowd around us. “I’m not performing right now, Melody. This is just us. Me. This is real.”
“Austin, we don’t need to have this conversation right now.”
“Nobody has ever done something like this for me.” His hand tightened slightly on my waist. “No one has showed up when they didn’t have to.
Or put themselves in an uncomfortable situation just because they wanted to be there.
For me. Not for the Bancroft name or the connections or the photo opportunity. Just for me.”
I saw something in his expression I’d never seen before.
Vulnerability. Raw and unguarded. Like he’d let down every wall he kept between himself and the world.
He was just a man. Not just a man. A guy that had real feelings.
He wasn’t just the playboy that screwed around and didn’t take anything seriously.
And he was beautiful like this. Maybe the most beautiful I had ever seen him.
Not the charming playboy or the confident Bancroft heir. Just Austin. Uncertain and grateful and a little bit scared.
“I’m glad I came,” I said softly. “I’ve been thinking about you. A lot. Since the podcast. Since… everything.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I let myself lean into him slightly. I mentally sighed. I was falling for him. Again. Not that I ever un-fell for him. Getting to touch him was messing with my senses.
“How have you been?” I asked, tilting my head to look up at him.
“Lonely,” he said without hesitation. No charm, no deflection. Just honest. “Really fucking lonely, actually.”
The admission caught me off guard. I’d expected him to say busy or fine or some other deflection.
But lonely? That raw honesty made my heart hurt.
The man had a million acquaintances, but I had never heard him talk about a friend.
He had brothers and I knew he was close to a couple of them, but who did he really have, especially when there was so much drama with his family?
I felt like I was seeing him so differently now. And I was sad for him.
“What about you?” he asked.
I laughed, though it came out a little breathless. “Busy. Really busy. Cleo’s been keeping me on a tight schedule. Content planning, photo shoots, engagement. The usual.”
“Busy.” His lips curved into that teasing smile I’d missed more than I wanted to admit. “Not lonely at all, then?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you didn’t say you were lonely either.” He spun me gently, pulling me back against him. “You’re wounding my ego here, Melody. Making me think I was the only one suffering.”
“Your ego could use a little wounding,” I said, but I was smiling. “It’s big enough to survive.”
“Ouch.” He pressed his hand more firmly against my back, drawing me closer. “Here I am, pouring my heart out, and you’re attacking my ego.”
“I wasn’t attacking. I was stating a fact.”
“A very hurtful fact.”
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t stop the warm and fuzzy feeling spreading through my body.
This teasing—the easy back-and-forth, the way we fit together—this was what I had missed.
Not just the physical attraction or the chemistry, but this.
The way he made me feel seen and heard and like I could be myself without pretense.
I loved how easy it was to just hang out with him.
“Fine,” I said. “I was lonely too. Happy?”
His expression softened, the teasing falling away. “Not happy you were lonely. But happy you missed me.”
“I didn’t say I missed you.”
“You didn’t have to.” His hand against my back increased pressure, pulling me against his hard body. “You showed up tonight. That says more than words ever could.”
He was right, of course. I could have stayed home and let him face his family alone. I could have kept my distance and protected my heart. I probably should have done just that.
But I decided to come anyway, knowing I was risking my heart.
Because despite everything—the hurt, the embarrassment, the fear of getting burned again—I wanted to be here. With him.
And that terrified me more than any amount of judgment from New York’s elite ever could.
“I do see you.”
“What?” I asked, realizing I had been drifting a bit.
“I. See. You.”
I was pretty sure those were the three most beautiful words in the world. Okay, there were probably a few combinations of three words that were really good, but those did it for me.
I smiled at him. “Thank you.”
“I have since that first kiss at the wedding. Since you looked at me like I was more than just my last name.”
Other couples danced nearby, but I barely noticed them. There was just Austin, looking at me like I was something precious.
He leaned in, and I felt his lips brush my cheek. Gentle. Almost reverent.
It wasn’t enough. I wanted so much more.
“There are enough people looking,” I whispered, turning my face toward his. “You can kiss me for real. Your whole family is watching.”
His brow furrowed, and for a moment I thought I said something wrong. Pushed too hard. Made this about the optics when it should be about us. He was giving me vulnerable, and I just made it all about our arrangement.
“Melody—” he started.
But I didn’t let him finish. I was the one that closed the distance between us, pressing my lips to his. And he kissed me back.
I knew it wasn’t for show. Neither of us cared about the cameras or the gossip or the family watching. He kissed me like he’d been waiting for this moment. Like he’d been thinking about it as much as I had.
At least, I hoped that’s what he was thinking. I was.
His hand moved from my waist to cup the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair. His other hand tightened on mine. And suddenly we weren’t dancing anymore. We were just standing there in the middle of the ballroom, kissing like we were the only two people in the world.
Everything else faded. All of it disappeared until there was just Austin’s lips on mine, his hands holding me close.
I melted into him, letting him pull me closer, and for the first time since I’d arrived at this overwhelming event, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.