Chapter Twenty-Six #3
“Nothing you need to worry about,” Daisy soothed, glancing back at Jameson. He was barking into his phone, pacing.
“Looks like paparazzi,” he muttered when he rejoined them. “On private property. Barry’s on his way.”
“Barry’s here?”
“Yeah. Took a commercial flight. He hates jets.”
The thought of burly Barry being afraid of small planes made Daisy snort despite the tension.
“Can we go in the water now?” Amelia begged. “I want to play in the waves.”
And just like that, Jameson’s fury softened. He bent, offering her his hand, his smile warm and unguarded. “Let’s do it, love.”
Despite the rocky start, the day turned into a magical one.
Jameson and Amelia laughed and played in the surf for hours, chasing waves until they collapsed in the sand.
Even Daisy found herself pulled in, shrieking when the water lapped higher than expected, letting herself feel light and free in a way she hadn’t in years.
By late afternoon, with the sun beginning to dip, they packed up and headed back to the house. Margot kept Amelia occupied while Daisy and Jameson slipped away to get ready for the charity event.
He had arranged everything—hair stylists, makeup artists, even manicures. Normally, Daisy would’ve balked at the extravagance, but tonight she’d be standing next to some of the most beautiful people in the world. She let him spoil her. Even Anna was impressed, which was a rare miracle.
When they were finished, Daisy slid into her red dress and black heels. The mirror showed a woman she barely recognized—sleek, elegant, maybe even a little dangerous. And nervous as hell.
Her heels clicked softly as she descended the staircase. Jameson, Amelia, Lenny, and Margot were waiting below.
Amelia spotted her first. “Wow, Mom. You look like a princess.”
Three more heads swiveled.
Lenny’s jaw dropped. Jameson’s did too, but his expression was different. Not just want but need. His gaze swept over her slowly, longingly, like she was something he wasn’t sure he deserved to look at.
And Daisy, traitorous Daisy, felt the exact same pull.
It took everything in her not to smile back.
Margot clapped her hands together. “You all look dashing. Come, let me take a few pictures.”
“Mum, it’s not the prom,” Jameson groaned.
“You went to prom together?” Amelia asked.
“Yes,” Lenny said. “That’s where you were created.”
“Not true,” Daisy said quickly, smacking his arm.
“Then where was I created?” Amelia asked innocently.
The room froze. Even Margot flushed. Daisy winced, the real answer absolutely not fit for her daughter’s ears. Thankfully, Anna chose that exact moment to sweep in.
“Well,” she said, spinning in her gown, noticing all their grimaces. “I know it’s a bit conservative, but I don’t look that bad, do I?”
Daisy could see the lights long before they arrived, white-hot and multiplying as the car inched closer.
And she was a wreck.
Maybe a ritzy event wasn’t the smartest way to show solidarity.
It’s too late now.
The driver eased to the curb, the red carpet full of flashes and shouting.
Jameson set a hand lightly on her knee. “Are you sure you don’t want to walk with me?”
Hope flickered in his eyes, the smallest plea under them. She was warmed by it, by the simple fact that he wanted to be seen with her—but…
“I can’t,” she whispered.
He nodded once, gaze dropping. “I’ll meet you inside.”
Then he and Lenny stepped into the storm. There were bulbs, names, and hands reaching. Everyone wanted a piece of him. He’d always been a muse. And frankly, he was also becoming her muse again.
Anna and Daisy slipped in through a side entrance, ducking the madness. Inside, Daisy’s eyes went wide. The room thrummed. Celebrities were everywhere, faces she knew from screens and magazine covers. It was surreal.
They giggled like schoolgirls when Rihanna complimented Daisy’s dress. Daisy thanked her (somehow calmly) and tugged Anna toward the bar before her friend combusted.
Daisy pressed a flute of champagne into Anna’s hand. “Drink. Stop gawking.”
“How can I? This room is filled with everyone I’ve ever fantasized about.”
“They’re just people, Anna.”
“You only say that because you got knocked up by one.”
“Shut up,” Daisy said, but she smiled.
Anna arched her brow. “Careful it doesn’t happen again.”
“It won’t.” Daisy hoped her voice sounded more certain than she felt.
“Mm-hmm. I’ve seen this film before, the Jameson and Daisy saga. No one is fooled.” Anna took a sip, eyes glittering. “You’re already radiating. He is growing on you.”
“Who’s growing on you?” Lenny’s voice sounded from behind them, Jameson by his side.
Anna played it cool.
“Well, if you must know, I was hoping that any one of these eligible hotties would be growing on me tonight, if you know what I mean.”
Lenny didn’t find it amusing. “If you don’t recall, I’m your date and it would be rather distasteful to leave with any of these ‘hotties.’”
“Don’t worry, Lenny, I’ll let you join in on the fun. Now come and start introducing me to your rich and famous friends.”
By the time dinner service was ready to begin, Daisy’s head spun. So many hellos, so many polite smiles. Through it all, Jameson stayed easy and kind, making space for her in every conversation like it was instinct.
It felt… right.
That was until Daisy saw her.
She had aged well in the way money can buy, smooth where it shouldn’t be, and sharp where it should’ve softened. She approached with a cunning smile etched onto her mouth.
Harley Luxor.
Daisy’s heart stuttered. Old nausea, and the same anger.
“Well,” Harley purred, “isn’t this a cute little reunion.”
Jameson’s smile collapsed. He shifted, the smallest step in front of her, as if his body could shield Daisy. “What are you doing, Harley?”
“Saying hello to old friends.”
“You came to stir up shit. Keep walking.”
“Is that how you speak to the woman who made your career?” She patted his shoulder with two fingers. “The woman who ensured your success.”
“Harley,” he warned.
Her gaze slid to Daisy, mouth curling. “I hear you kept that little bastard after all. Surprising. You always were so weak-willed—”
Jameson’s voice dropped, sounding lethal. “If you ever refer to my child or her mother like that again, I will—”
“What? Ruin me?” she cooed. “Bit late for that. Remember?”
Before Jameson could cut her with his words, she pivoted on six-inch Louboutins and said, “Enjoy your night, now,” and vanished into the room.
Daisy blew out an unsteady breath. “She’s still the worst.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should’ve known she would emerge from the pits of hell.”
She bubbled a laugh. “Don’t apologize. I’m fine.” I think. “Let’s just go find our table.”
“She said what?!” Anna yelled as Daisy recounted the exchange with Harley. Anna wanted to march across the room and rearrange Harley’s face. Daisy had to physically anchor her in her chair until the auction began. This was not the time or place. It was, after all, a charity event.
And the auction items were insurmountable.
Napa weekends, ridiculous cars, trips that sounded like movie sets.
“Next item is a piece by the renowned artist Louis Boudreaux. The bidding starts at ten thousand.”
“What do you think?” Jameson asked, curious for her take.
“It’s exquisite. Whoever wins this will be lucky to own a Boudreaux.”
“You’re a fan?”
“Huge. Lots of Peláez in his palette—Amelia Peláez, who, incidentally, is our daughter’s namesake.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Twenty-five,” the auctioneer called.
“Forty,” a voice cut clean through. Jameson’s.
Daisy stared at him. He only shrugged.
“Forty-one,” a woman countered.
“Forty-five,” Jameson said, smiling now.
“Forty-seven,” she countered again.
“Fifty,” Jameson called, getting a thrill from the crowd. The other voice didn’t speak again.
“Going once, going twice—sold!”
Applause rose and Daisy leaned in. “You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted you to have something good from tonight,” he said. “Something to remember.”
Heat curled low in her stomach. She nudged his knee beneath the table, the smallest thank you.
“You never could let me have my way, Kingston,” a warm voice teased behind them.
They turned. She was tall, bronzed, and composed.
His ex-wife.
Jameson laughed out and rose to his feet. “That was you, Brooke?”
He folded her into a friendly hug. Daisy looked away, then pasted on a smile when he said her name.
“Daisy, this is Brooke Nickels. Brooke, Daisy Daniels.”
Brooke’s smile tilted. “Well, well. It’s nice to finally meet the woman I could never live up to.”
Daisy froze for a beat, then took her hand. She’d been intimidated by this woman for years, and here Brooke was… just human.
“Nice to meet you,” Daisy said. “You have great taste—” She paused, then clarified with a small smile, “In art.”
Brooke laughed softly. “Fair. Men too, I’d say.” Her jest landed lighter than Daisy expected, almost warm.
A quiet moment settled between them before Brooke added, “You two look good together. I’m happy for you.” Her tone was genuine rather than brittle.
“Oh, we’re not—” Daisy started.
“Thank you,” Jameson said, an arm sliding easily around Daisy’s waist.
Brooke’s eyes crinkled. “Since the art didn’t work out, I’m off to bid on this Aspen trip. Good seeing you.” And then she was gone in a swathe of silk.
“That was… surprisingly painless,” he said, watching Daisy instead of the crowd.
“She seems kind.”
“She is. Just a terror to be married to.”
“I still can’t believe you were ever married.”
“Sometimes I can’t either.”
After the auction, the lights bled down to a low, warm pulse beat against the walls and the dance floor filled. Anna and Lenny were welded together, all laughter and moves.
“Dance with me?” Jameson asked, suddenly shy.
“Sure,” she said, standing. “Just let me run to the restroom first.”
“Want me to walk you?”
“I’m a big girl. I think I can manage,” she joked and left him at the table.