Chapter 25 #3
I drowned out Elliot thanking the attendees, the bidders, and the husbands allowing their wives to bid on him and his brother. I drowned out the laughs that followed the statement and the way he said, “Alright, let’s eat! We’ll reveal the final amount after dessert.”
I drowned everything out until he was right beside me again, letting himself fall into the empty chair with a sigh. A second before the first course appeared in front of us, Allegra got up, the sound of her chair scraping against the floor startling the entire table.
I tried to ignore it. I read the small menu, not even remotely interested in what I’d have for dinner. I wasn’t all that hungry after the nerves of the past twenty minutes.
Creamy parsnip soup, baked fig I was completely nauseous. A nausea that, somehow, made me smile so widely my cheeks hurt.
Shaking my head, I tried the soup despite every fiber of my being telling me I shouldn’t.
“This is really something,” Rowen commented from beside me.
I agreed with a big nod. “Delicious!”
Glancing in his direction, though, I got the feeling he didn’t mean the food. Brows up, a knowing look on his face, and a mischievous smile on his lips.
“What?” I asked, innocently, and almost forgot the soup I hadn’t yet swallowed. It took everything to keep it from spilling out of my mouth and over the table straight into my lap. Which, of course, also meant he was laughing at me now. Not just with me.
“Listen, I’m all for this . . . thing.”
I finally swallowed. “There’s no thing.”
“No?” He took a bite. “My brother looks at me that way, too?”
There was no particular way Elliot looked at me. He looked at me the way he looked at everyone else, too. The way he’d looked at Allegra, Camila, and Oliver. The way he probably looked at baristas when he ordered coffee and security guys when they opened doors for him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, only kind of in denial. “Probably, yes. He’s a nice guy who looks at everyone in a nice way.” Which was a weird enough statement in itself. Three weeks ago, I wouldn’t have described Elliot Ashwood as anything close to nice.
“Not in a what’s the nicest way I could touch her without anyone else noticing way, though.” He shrugged. “He never spent over half a million dollars for a date, either.”
“Technically, I’m spending half a million dollars on a date.”
Rowen gave me a look that told me he wasn’t going to acknowledge the statement further. He was enjoying himself. It didn’t matter if it was seeing me sweat or embarrassing his brother.
“Who’s the girl who won you?”
The corners of his lips fell, and mine rose in sync. I’d gained the upper hand. When there was no reply, I nudged, “Hm?”
With a sigh, he acknowledged, “I deserve this.” He had some more soup, a sip of his wine, and really let me wait for it.
But it was worth it. “She shouldn’t have been here.
I don’t know how she got on the guest list; Elliot usually checks it himself.
Ever heard of Maison Auclair?” The name rolled off his tongue in perfect French.
I shook my head.
“Oh.” There was genuine surprise in the sound. “Only the biggest luxury department store in the city.”
“I haven’t been in the city that long,” I said defensively.
“Sure.” His head shook. “She shouldn’t have been here because Ashwoods and Auclairs don’t mix well.
Years back, they stopped stocking Adeline Ashwood, and it’s this big thing nobody really talks about but everyone knows.
She shouldn’t have been here,” he repeated.
“At the very least, she shouldn’t have bid on me. ”
If Paula were here, her eyes would start sparkling now. Big family secrets and scandals made great headlines, and although she’d kind of chosen sports journalism as her thing, that didn’t mean she wouldn’t love a good fashion mystery.
I missed her, I realized. My best friend and I lived in the same city, and I hadn’t seen her in weeks. We were both busy with work. We no longer had breakfast for dinner and went out in party dresses too short for our own good. Suddenly all grown up.
It sucked.
I tried to steer away from serious family affairs, no matter how intriguing it was and how much Paula would be pissed I hadn’t pressed more. The plan had been to tease Rowen the way he clearly loved teasing me. “She’s pretty.”
But he just agreed, matter-of-factly, “Unfortunately.”