Chapter 1 #2
The ringing dragged on, long enough for my patience to wear thin, before his voicemail picked up.
My jaw tightened as I lowered the phone.
By now, I had probably called him a hundred times. Maybe more. Every call had gone straight to voicemail, leaving me with the same clipped message that he couldn’t take my call.
I’d told him about the party. Reminded him. Mentioned it often enough that even his half-listening had to register it. I’d even gone through Cassandra, his and Liam’s assistant, and made sure the damn thing was sitting on his calendar.
He’d had every possible reminder.
Apparently, none of them had been enough to get him through the door.
The worst part was, I couldn’t even say I was surprised.
Somewhere beneath all the optimism I’d been clinging to, I’d known there was a chance he’d do exactly this. Cassian had been disappearing into work for months. Why would tonight be any different?
Still, the thought of him missing the party had left a sour taste in my mouth.
Maybe that was why Cassandra had started getting under my skin.
Cassian and his best friend, Liam, had founded the company together. When Velaré Hotels took a massive hit, the cuts had come quickly. Senior employees were let go, departments were stripped down, and somewhere in the middle of the chaos, Cassandra had been brought in.
Liam’s sister.
And a pain in my fucking ass.
Two years ago, she barely registered on my radar. Our paths crossed occasionally, usually at Liam’s birthday parties, and Cassian barely acknowledged her beyond basic politeness.
She had always looked at Cassian a little too long.
I’d caught her watching him across rooms, her attention lingering even after he’d turned away. Her smile arrived before his words did, and whenever he spoke, she leaned closer, absorbing every syllable with an interest that had very little to do with conversation.
Cassian never seemed to notice.
Or perhaps he simply didn’t care. Neither did I.
Until she started working with him.
Now she had access to parts of his life I didn’t. His schedule. His calls. His meetings. All those small, ordinary details that gave someone countless opportunities to become familiar with a person.
She was always there to “help” him.
And each time she stepped into his orbit, those ridiculous hearts in her eyes became harder for me to ignore.
I called one last time, already bracing for that same infuriatingly calm voicemail greeting.
The call rang until it clicked over. I closed my eyes and let out a slow breath.
“Hey, it’s me. Are you here yet? You’re very late. Did something happen?” I hesitated, listening to the silence on the other end before adding, “Call me back when you can.”
I slid my phone back into my clutch, smoothed my palm over the front of my dress, and turned toward the party.
The smile went back on before anyone could notice it had slipped. My eyes swept across the room, searching for familiar faces among the crowd.
Liam was missing too.
They were probably together, buried in some problem at the office, hunched over whatever disaster had landed on their desks this week.
My eyes caught on Naija and Felicity across the room, and I made my way toward them.
Felicity and I had found each other during orientation week and never drifted apart.
She was the loudest person in any room she entered, completely unapologetic about it, and also the kindest person I knew.
She had a way of making everyone around her feel welcome, even when she barely knew them.
She gave freely, loved fiercely, and showed up for the people she cared about without ever being asked.
Naija came into my life later, at a time when my schedule had become a disaster of overlapping meetings, unanswered emails, and deadlines that kept piling up.
She walked into the interview and somehow made me feel like I was the one being evaluated.
I hired her on the spot, and it turned out to be one of the best decisions I’d made.
Since then, she’d become my assistant, my sounding board, and my most reliable source of deadpan commentary.
Felicity spotted me first and immediately broke into a grin.
“There she is. Sia, you look magnificent. Easily the most beautiful woman in this room.” Her eyes swept over me with exaggerated admiration. “Have I mentioned how talented you are? Inspirational, actually. Truly remarkable.”
I blinked at her before turning to Naija. “What’s wrong with her?”
Naija didn’t bother lifting her eyes from her phone. “She did a full sweep of the room and noticed Cassian isn’t here.”
“Ah.” I nodded slowly.
That explained it.
Felicity had never been particularly subtle when she thought I was hiding a problem.
She gave a nervous laugh and waved a hand between us. “That has absolutely nothing to do with this. I was simply complimenting my friend.”
“Of course you were.”
“Exactly.” She nodded far too eagerly, then leaned closer. “But since we’re apparently discussing Cassian now…” Her expression softened. “How are you feeling?”
I forced a smile, hoping it looked convincing enough to end the interrogation before it began. “I’m fine. Cassian’s just stuck at work.”
Naija finally lowered her phone. “Did you talk to him?”
“I called.” I glanced down at my watch, pretending to check the time so neither of them could study my expression too closely. “Got his voicemail.”
Felicity’s eyes lingered on me, waiting.
I could already feel the question forming, so I answered it before either of them had to ask. “But I know he’s at work.” I gave a small shrug. “He’s always at work.”
They shared a look.
I’d been getting that look from them a lot lately. A silent conversation passing between them whenever I smiled too quickly, changed the subject, or gave them one of the excuses I’d repeated so often that they probably knew them by heart.
Felicity turned back to me. “I’m going to ask you again.” She studied my face. “How do you really feel?”
There was no teasing in her expression now.
Felicity had always been frighteningly good at seeing through me. She noticed the smile that arrived a little too quickly, the pauses before an answer, the tiny shifts in expression I didn’t even know I was making. Keeping anything from her had always been a losing battle.
I glanced between them.
They were worried. I could see it in Felicity’s grip around her glass, her knuckles pale beneath the pressure. Naija had tucked her phone away completely, giving me her undivided attention. She only did that when she had decided whoever was in front of her deserved her undivided attention.
Tonight, that person was me.
I understood why they were concerned, but they didn’t need to be.
This was one difficult patch. One crisis. One problem that would pass with time. Cassian would come home, we’d talk, and we’d find our way back to each other. Eventually, my friends would stop watching me so closely whenever I went quiet, and I wouldn’t have to keep reassuring them that I was okay.
I couldn’t make them understand what I saw in him. They knew Cassian. They had spent enough time around him to form their own opinions, but they had never seen the parts of him that belonged only to me.
They hadn’t seen him at home.
They hadn’t seen the man who, after the longest, most exhausting days, still remembered that I liked my evening tea on the balcony.
He never made a single cup. There were always two, even though tea had never been his favorite.
He drank it because I did. Because sitting beside me mattered more to him than whether he actually wanted the tea.
They hadn’t seen him slip into our bedroom five minutes before I did, night after night, just to warm my side of the bed because I was always cold. Somewhere along the way, he’d decided that keeping me warm was his job.
They hadn’t seen the way he remembered the little things.
The snacks I reached for when I was stressed. The blanket I preferred. The songs I played when I couldn’t sleep. The exact look I gave him when I needed comfort but couldn’t bring myself to ask for it.
They hadn’t seen him laughing until his eyes watered, completely unguarded, with his head thrown back and his entire face transformed by happiness.
So how could I explain that I wasn’t defending a fantasy?
I was defending the man I knew when nobody else was watching.
“Am I disappointed that he’s not here?” A small shrug lifted my shoulders.
“Yes. Of course I am. It’s his birthday.
I wanted him beside me.” I paused, letting out a breath.
“But do I understand him? Yes. He’s not staying away because he wants to.
He’s dealing with one of those miserable situations life throws at you without warning.
Sometimes I think the universe gets bored and decides we need a little entertainment. ”
“So Cassian missing his own birthday party,” Felicity said, “is the universe’s fault.”
“Cosmically speaking? Yes.”
I looked between them, hoping my smile would be convincing enough to put an end to the interrogation. “Besides, tonight is going to help. Tomorrow, everything will change.”
Felicity took an agonizingly slow sip of her drink, her eyes fixed on me over the rim of her glass.
Naija suddenly developed a fascinating interest in the room. Her gaze drifted toward the decorations, then the bar, then a random spot on the ceiling that had apparently become the most compelling thing she’d ever seen.
I looked between them.
“What?”
“Nothing,” they replied in perfect unison.
I narrowed my eyes. “You’re doing the thing.”
Felicity blinked at me with exaggerated innocence. “What thing?”
“The thing where you both go quiet, exchange suspicious looks, and suddenly develop a passionate interest in interior decoration.”
Naija’s mouth twitched. She glanced at Felicity, who was already looking back at her.
There it was again.
That silent exchange.
Naija finally turned her attention toward the room. “The room is fascinating. Look at that centerpiece.”