“Isn’t it breathtaking?” I ask Huxley.
“It was.” His eyes connect with Lottie. “I could envision marrying Lottie there, making her officially mine.”
His eyes sear her with love and I inwardly groan as I go back to staring out the window. They’re exhausting to be around.
Lottie was never the romantic, between the two of us. She’s been the one searching out success, looking for validation in her work. I happened to stumble upon my business while seeking out love. I was the one who read all the books about romance, watched all the movies . . . hell, I started a podcast based on love.
And yet, I’m loveless, and my sister is consumed by it.
Where’s the luck there?
Hint—there’s none.
Just wait, Edwin and I will get there. Slowly but surely, we’ll get there.
The van door opens and cameras immediately start flashing.
Tonight’s gala is supposed to be a star-studded event, full of high-society members and a few celebrities. All proceeds benefit the Children’s Hospital, and just to get through the doors, it’s five thousand dollars a head.
Cane Enterprises paid for my ticket and Edwin’s without blinking an eye.
And the River Estate is a gorgeous mansion in the epicenter of Beverly Hills. It’s one of the largest properties in the area, with a sprawling, circular driveway, towering palm trees lined up along the pavement, and a grand entrance to the estate fit only for royalty.
Huxley is the first to exit the van and, as talked about prior to arriving, Lottie will follow behind him, and they will walk the red carpet, hand in hand. JP and I are to follow, separately.
Lottie offers me a wink before moving by me and heading out of the van. Together, they walk down the carpet, pulling the attention away from who’s left. Just the way I like it.
JP gets out next and buttons his suit jacket once he exits.
I take a deep breath and then make my way out, but just as I reach the second step, my heel catches on something and my body falls forward.
Oh God, no.
Cameras flash, I lose my balance, and just as I start to plummet forward, a hand closes around my elbow and steadies me so I don’t fall.
My eyes quickly land on JP, who smiles thoughtfully. Under his breath, he says, “Easy there, killer. Wouldn’t want to make a spectacle on your first red carpet.”
And I don’t know what throws me off more, his kind gesture of helping me or the soft tone of his voice that rolls over me as he helps me all the way out of the van.
Either way, color me shocked. Given the tumultuous nature of our relationship, I would’ve thought he’d have stepped to the side and let me land flat on my face, only to gather the cameras around me to take pictures.
Look, folks, come closer, come closer, see how she missed that step completely? Notice the gravel stuck to the side of her cheek. Oh, oh, wait, yes, zoom in, she bit her tongue on the way down, attempting to hold back a slew of curse words I’ve heard her say before. Be alarmed, she says “fuck.”
“You okay?” he asks, his voice growing close to my ear.
“Ye-yeah.” I stumble over the words that seem to be getting lost in my throat. He’s right next to me, shoulder to shoulder, still holding my hand. Anyone who isn’t privileged to our hostile banter would assume we’re a couple. Which we very much aren’t.
“You sure? You seem unsteady,” he says, still holding my hand as we walk toward the entrance. Thankfully, thanks to Lottie and Huxley, not too many cameras are paying attention to us.
“Just a little shaken.”
“Here, come this way, then,” JP says, ushering me around the gauntlet of photographers to a back entrance where a few cars are parked, most likely ready to sneak people in and out.
When we reach the door, JP opens it for me and we’re greeted by a doorman.
“JP Cane,” JP says.
The man doesn’t even bother looking at the clipboard in his hand, he just offers us a curt nod and then lets us in the back entrance.
Once inside, we pause a few feet away from the door and I lean against the wall, composing myself.
“God, I almost fell flat on my face.” I press my hand to my chest, taking a deep breath. JP is adjusting his tie when our eyes connect. “Thank you for helping me.”
“You’re welcome,” he answers calmly. Sweetly.
Are we in some sort of alternate reality? Because . . . this is a different side of JP, one I didn’t know existed. He’s being . . . nice. There’s no snark, there’s no insult, no teasing. He’s being normal. Did I actually trip and, instead of being steadied by him, fall into some sort of black hole?