20. Elliot
ELLIOT
Northwell's New Year's party was exactly the kind of thing I should have enjoyed.
Elegant and excessive. Champagne towers stretched toward the ceiling.
A string quartet played near the grand staircase while a DJ waited in another room for midnight, when the crowd inevitably abandoned sophistication and embraced chaos.
Models, socialites, athletes, politicians, and trust-fund disasters moved through the ballroom in expensive dresses and tailored suits.
Everywhere I looked, there were beautiful women, and I couldn't have cared less.
I stood near the bar, nursing a glass of scotch I hadn't wanted fifteen minutes ago and still didn't want now.
It had been over three weeks. Three fucking weeks. Three weeks since Harper walked away, since she'd ignored every call, returned every gift I'd ever given her, and looked at me like she never wanted to see me again.
The worst part?
I still didn't know where she was. It shouldn't have been possible, not with the resources Northwell had. Not with the people I knew. And yet somehow Harper Lane had vanished, or Rowan was hiding shit from me.
Which was why I crossed the ballroom toward him. Rowan saw me coming, and his expression immediately soured.
"Absolutely not," he ground out.
"I haven't said anything." I all but whined.
"You were going to," He said with a raised brow.
I stopped beside him. "Where is she?"
Rowan stared at me. Like he was trying to determine whether I had suffered some kind of traumatic brain injury. Then he took a sip of his drink.
"No."
My jaw clenched. "Fucking hell, Rowan."
"No."
"Where is she?"
His eyes narrowed. "You know what?" he said quietly. "I have enough shit on my plate right now; I don’t have time to clean up your messes."
The words carried enough weight that I should have backed off. I didn't.
"What does that even mean?"
Rowan barked out a humorless laugh. "It means I'm not wasting my time helping you stalk the woman you cheated on."
My temper exploded immediately. "I DIDN'T CHEAT."
Several heads turned, but I didn't care.
Rowan looked completely unimpressed. "You keep saying that."
"Because it's true."
"The fact that you need to repeat it every five minutes should tell you something."
I stepped closer. "What has you so busy, anyway?"
Bad idea. I knew it the second the words left my mouth, but I was already angry, spiralling, and looking for somewhere to put it.
"What?"
"What is so important?" I snapped, thinking back on what Harper had said about Rowan. "Your assistant?"
Rowan went completely still. "Careful."
I should have stopped; instead, I doubled down. "Sofia isn't here tonight."
The silence between us sharpened.
"I wonder," I continued. "If that is because you were parading another one of your carbon-copy women around here earlier."
Rowan's stare could have frozen lava; then he leaned in slightly. "Grow the fuck up."
That was it; then he walked away.
The party continued around me. Theo was currently attempting to corrupt Emily Bennett.
"You need water." Caleb said as he handed Emily a bottle.
Emily looked offended. "I'm fine."
"You've had four champagne cocktails in one hour."
“I've had three and I feel fine.”
Theo stood up, grabbing Emily’s hand and saying, “Let’s make it four.”
Julian said something to Lucy, and she nearly choked on her drink.
He tucked her closer to him and rubbed her back.
The movement was so automatic it made my chest hurt.
Because he didn't even realize he was doing it.
Lucy smiled up at him, and Julian smiled back, which still fucked with me.
I had to look away because they made looking happy look so easy, and I hated that I immediately thought of her.
I turned to walk away from the group, and a brunette intercepted me. She was tall, beautiful and absolutely interested. The type of woman I would have taken upstairs a month ago.
She smiled and bit her bottom lip suggestively, saying, "This is an incredible party."
"Thanks."
She waited, and when I said nothing else, her smile faltered, and then she left.
The next one lasted less than thirty seconds.
The one after that, maybe a minute.
By eleven o'clock, Theo was openly taking bets.
I glared at him, and he grinned. "That's number six, Elliot. I have never seen you so off your game."
"Go away." I ground out.
"You used to enjoy this," Theo mocked.
"Fuck off."
Theo laughed, and Caleb had a look that was dangerously close to pity.
Near eleven thirty, Emily was scrolling on her phone and suddenly gasped. "Oh my God."
Everyone ignored her until Emily gasped again, louder this time. "OH MY GOD."
Theo nearly spilled his drink. "What?"
Emily shoved her phone into Lucy's face. Lucy frowned, asking, "What am I looking at?"
Emily looked scandalized. "You don't know whose account this is?"
"No," Lucy said.
"The internet's favorite billionaire bad boy." Emily was practically bouncing in her seat.
Theo blinked. "That's a category?"
Emily rolled her eyes, saying, "It is for Oliver Hastings."
The name vaguely registered.
Lucy looked at the screen. "Oh, should I know who he is?"
I almost laughed because of the amount Lucy worked or cared for her family; it was no surprise, she probably didn't even have her own social media.
Emily grabbed the phone back. "I follow him because he's ridiculously attractive."
Theo looked wounded. "I am standing right here, baby Bennett."
Nobody acknowledged him. Emily scrolled, then stopped dramatically, grabbing Lucy’s knee.
"Wow."
"What?" Lucy asked.
Emily turned the screen, and a photograph filled it. A champagne glass, firelight, a woman's hand wrapped around an arm wearing a black suit. The caption underneath read:
“I think glitter freckles might be my favorite thing about this year.”
Theo leaned forward. "The hell is a glitter freckle?"
Emily gasped. "No."
"What?" Theo asked.
"No way." Emily seemed really focused on her phone.
Lucy frowned. "What?"
Emily looked horrified. "I think Oliver Hastings is dating someone."
Who the fuck cares?
Caleb's attention sharpened slightly, and Emily continued scrolling.
"That's so crazy, he is notoriously single, or just hides it really well, and it is usually just him in his social stuff. This feels so cloak and dagger, I wonder who she is..."
Lucy laughed. "Do you even know him?"
"No," Emily sighed and then locked her phone, pouting, “He is just so yummy I want to lick his tattoos.”
Caleb laughed, saying, “No more champagne for you.” At the same time, Theo said, "I have tattoos."
Everyone looked at him.
"You have tattoos?" Emily asked.
"I have several." He replied, then he waggled his eyebrows, asking, “Want to see them?”
Laughter broke out around the group, and I looked away. Back toward the windows, and the city that felt more and more empty.
Five minutes to midnight. The countdown screens appeared, and fresh champagne was distributed. People paired off. Everyone prepared for the moment that a new year began.
I felt nothing.
A woman I didn’t even realize was beside me touched my arm. I stepped away before she could say anything. Then I walked outside. Cold air hit my face immediately. The city stretched out beneath me. Beautiful, but tonight it looked unforgiving and made me feel lonely.
My phone was already in my hand. I called Harper. Straight to an automated message, I was pretending didn’t mean she had blocked me or changed her number. Same as every other time.
I stood there, staring at the screen. Then called again, again and again.
I don’t know why I expected a different outcome.
It wasn’t even taking me to her voicemail; I just wanted to hear her voice.
My chest tightened, and I rubbed it, thinking about how hollow Christmas had felt this year.
I hadn’t heard from my parents, but that wasn’t a surprise; we didn’t talk unless it was advantageous for them and in a public setting.
I pulled up her work number, the one she almost never answered personally. The one Timothy probably screened. I listened to it ring, then the voicemail picked up, and I got to hear her voice for a few seconds. I almost hung up; instead, I closed my eyes.
"Harper." The city noise drifted around me. "I know you don't want to talk to me." A gust of wind blew snow around me. "I know you probably blocked my number." A humorless laugh escaped me. "I deserve that." The words hurt because they were true. "I just..."
My throat tightened. When did talking become difficult?
"I miss you." The admission came out rough.
"I miss talking to you." I stared out over Chicago.
"I miss your voice." My hand tightened around the phone.
"I miss you making fun of me. You would have hated this party, and I would have loved you dissecting everything about what it said about the person who threw it and the people who attended.
You would have had a field day with Emily and Theo… "
The countdown started inside.
Ten.
Nine.
Eight.
"I know you're angry."
Seven.
Six.
Five.
"I know… I hurt you."
Four.
Three.
"I just need you to talk to me."
Two.
One.
The city exploded with cheers. Fireworks, music, and laughter. A brand-new year.
I swallowed hard. "Happy New Year." Then I added quietly, "I wish you were here."
The line disconnected, and for the first time all night, I finally admitted the truth. The party wasn't what felt empty. I was.