“Did they say with who?”
Daly shakes his head. “No. All they said was that it was all the properties on your block but yours and that it was a New York buyer.”
“Fuck.” I seethe, my mind racing with who it could be.
I’d asked Daly to help me get to the bottom of the notice Pippa was given. If the real estate group was wanting to sell, I’d gladly purchase all of the properties so the rent didn’t go up or wasn’t sold to someone else. Or at least give Pippa the opportunity to buy herself out like she said she wanted. It makes no sense why all of a sudden, someone from out of town has come in to buy Sutten real estate. It was a shock to most that I did. I don’t understand what business anyone has with those properties.
“At this point, we might just have to wait until the sale is final, and then if you choose, you could go to whoever purchased it and give them a number.”
I run a hand over my mouth, my eyes scanning the room to see if Pippa and the girls have returned yet. “Do you think we know them?”
Daly sighs. “It seems too coincidental for us not to, but I don’t know. I’m trying to think of anyone who could profit off those spaces.”
I frown, looking through the crowd of people, wondering if they’re here now. “I need to find out before it goes through. I can’t let Pippa know that the business location she’s worked so hard for might’ve been purchased from right underneath her.”
“Can she get a different space? I haven’t looked around.”
I shoot him a scathing look. “I’m not even going to put energy into your stupid question.”
His cheeks puff out as he looks at anything but me. He’s done with the conversation, which is fine. He’s not useful to me at the moment anyway.
Instead, I look out at the crowd of the wealthiest people in New York. Someone here has to have answers. I just have to find them.
53
PIPPA
I excuse myself from the conversation between Margo, Winnie, and Emma. They were very nice to include me, but as they huddle together in the fanciest bathroom I’ve ever seen in my life, I realize I’m just a bystander to what seems to be a very private conversation.
I sneak away as Emma fires question after question at Winnie, not even giving her time to respond before asking another. None of them notice me leaving, which I prefer. I’ll find them later tonight after they’ve ironed out their conversation.
It takes me a few moments to stumble back to the elegant ballroom. I keep getting lost in small rooms full of people mingling. When I’d agreed to come to the gala, I imagined something completely different than what it actually is. I knew Camden had money, but I just didn’t imagine him in this lavish of situations.
I’m trying to squeeze next to a group of women deep in conversation when I pick up Camden’s name from one of their mouths. “Did you see who Camden Hunter brought tonight?”
My steps pause for a moment. I know I shouldn’t listen, but I can’t help it. I want to know what else they’ll say.
“I don’t get it. He’s dated far prettier. Why bring her?”
“Because he probably found it funny,” one woman offers with a high-pitched laugh. “Or thought it’d be great publicity for his newest gallery if he brought someone from that tiny, shitty town. He’ll use her and then discard her when he grows bored.” There’s a pause for a moment, or maybe it’s the blood rushing through my ears that makes me unable to hear anything else. Regardless, I don’t hear anything until the same voice adds, “That’s what he does to every woman. This country nobody will be no different.”
My face flushes with embarrassment. Part of me wants to walk up to them and tell them to not be so careless with their words. To tell them I’m a human with feelings and that Sutten is actually an amazing town and doesn’t deserve the hate they’re giving it. The other part of me focuses on what they said about Camden, letting doubt creep into my mind when I know they shouldn’t be.
I hurry away before I can say something I’ll regret. Camden made it clear to anyone who asked on the red carpet that I was his. He doesn’t seem to be hiding anything, but we still haven’t truly defined what we are. As I make my way to the ballroom, searching for Camden, I can’t help but wonder if their words ring true. What were his reasons for wanting me to come tonight?
I can’t find him anywhere at first, completely circling the room, looking for his familiar broad shoulders and icy gaze. Finally, I spot him, seeming to be in a heated discussion with the asshole I spilled a drink on from his gallery opening. Jack, I think? Or maybe Jason?