7. Aria #2
The impact was physical. A jolt, low in my stomach.
His expression didn't change—same controlled mask, same cool assessment—but something flickered in his eyes.
Something hot. Something that had no business being there, not from a man who looked at me like I was an inconvenience at best and an enemy at worst.
I held his gaze. One second. Two. Three.
Then I turned deliberately back to my conversation, giving him only my profile, and picked up the thread of whatever I'd been saying about educational partnerships.
I would not go to him. I would not make this easy.
"Breathe," Nalani said.
"I am breathing."
"You're not. You've gone all stiff." She elbowed me gently. "He's just a guy, Aria. A really hot guy who you have unresolved tension with, but still. Just a guy."
"I don't have unresolved tension with him."
"Honey, the tension between you two could power the entire Eastern seaboard." She patted my arm. "Go say hello. Get it over with. Then you can spend the rest of the night avoiding him."
"I'm not going to say hello."
"No?"
"No. If he wants to talk to me, he can come find me."
Nalani laughed. "There she is. The petty queen I know and love."
I ignored her and turned back to the room. I found Dr. Hilary and asked a follow-up question about clinic expansion that I didn't actually care about.
I could feel Sebastian's eyes on me. I didn't look.
Let him come to me. That’s what he should do. But I was the host. So, maybe I should go over to him to say hello, thank him for coming. But it was Sebastian for crying out loud. Surely the universe would understand if I broke protocol for one night.
So, I stayed put and waited for him to come to me. Ten minutes later, he was still across the room, Evie by his side, saying hello to a woman I didn’t recognize. He hadn’t even glanced in my direction once.
Twenty minutes passed, then thirty. I couldn’t care less about his presence at that point. The only thing that concerned me was Evie. That was the only reason why I kept glancing back. Maybe if she drifted away from him, then I could approach her.
But I will not go to Sebastian Dubois. Never.
Forty-five minutes passed.
I wasn't counting. But if I had been counting, that's how long it took him to approach me.
Forty-five minutes of watching him work the room in my peripheral vision.
Forty-five minutes of tracking his progress from the entrance to the bar to a cluster of businessmen I vaguely recognized from various boards and charitable committees.
Forty-five minutes of noticing every time his gaze cut toward me and then away, like he couldn't help looking but didn't want to be caught.
He'd talked to Dr. Hilary. Shaken hands with Congressman Holloway. Accepted a glass of something amber from the bar and nursed it while scanning the room with those cold gray eyes.
But he hadn't come to me.
Fine. Good. I didn't want to talk to him anyway.
Evie had found me within the first ten minutes, her whole face lighting up when she spotted me across the room.
She'd shown me the centerpieces she'd helped make—the small cards tucked among the flowers, handwritten facts about women's health that she'd researched herself.
I'd hugged her, told her they were perfect, and meant it.
Now she was at the silent auction with Derek, our newest staff member, who was patiently explaining how the bidding process worked while Evie peppered him with what I assumed were questions since I was too far away to hear them.
And Sebastian was walking toward me.
I was mid-conversation with Harry McClair, one of our longest-standing donors and a member of the foundation's advisory board.
We were discussing the expansion plans for the mobile clinic program when I felt the air pressure change again, and felt the particular weight of someone's attention settling on my back.
"Miss Kealoha."
His voice was low. Pitched for my ears only. Close enough that I could feel the warmth of him behind my shoulder.
I didn't turn. Kept my body angled toward Harry, making it clear where my priorities lay.
"Mr. Dubois.” Harry extended his hand to shake Sebastian’s. “Are you enjoying the event?"
"It's impressive."
Now I did turn. Not fully—just enough to see his face while keeping Harry in my sightline.
Sebastian stood close. Closer than he needed to. The candlelight caught the sharp planes of his face, softening them slightly, turning his gray eyes to something almost warm.
"I mean it," he said, and something in his expression suggested the words cost him. "The venue. The cause. The turnout. This is clearly important to a lot of people."
I searched his face for the angle. The sarcasm. The hidden insult.
I found none.
"It is," I said finally.
Harry cleared his throat. "I should go check on the auction. Aria, we'll continue this later?"
"Of course. Thank you, Harry."
He drifted away, leaving me alone with Sebastian. Or as alone as two people could be in a room full of three hundred others.
The gala swirled around us, laughter and music and clinking glasses. The string quartet had started to play, and a soft melody wound through the noise like a thread.
I turned to face him fully. “You can tell me the truth now. Land any insult you want about my event. Get it out of the way.”
He shrugged. "It's not terrible."
"High praise, coming from you."
"Well, I think it’s an accurate assessment of your abilities." His eyes swept over the room. "The venue is impressive. The cause is worthy. The turnout suggests you have significant influence in this city."
"Was that a compliment?"
"It was an observation."
"From you, I'll take it." I crossed my arms. "Speaking of observations… you owe me an apology."
Sebastian's eyebrows rose. "Excuse me?"
"Last week, at the foundation?” I said it slowly, as if I were speaking to a child. “You stormed in like a SWAT team, and as usual didn’t give anyone a chance to explain the situation before you started making demands."
His frown deepened. "He was shouting."
“And that meant you had to raise your voice, too?” I shook my head. “You’re supposed to be more civilized than that.”