by K. A. Linde
“I’m not. It just doesn’t really feel like me.”
His eyes swept down my body to the place where the short hem barely grazed the top of my thighs and then back to my face. “Why didn’t you wear something you were more comfortable in?”
“We’re celebrating. So, I got all dolled up.”
“This might not be what you normally wear, but it suits you.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
I bit my lip at his searing look. It had been easier when I was on guard with him. Now that he was within my realm of security, I was off-kilter. And those looks…I probably shouldn’t like them as much as I did.
It was a short drive to Club 360, which was situated on top of a Percy hotel. As in Camden Percy, Katherine’s fiancé and the most despicable person I’d ever met, owned this hotel. This was Katherine’s stomping grounds, and I’d been here with Penn. Unease bit into me at the memories.
Club 360 was the place where I had decided I was going to move forward with my relationship with Penn. Put my heart on the line. And that night was the first time we’d had sex since Paris. The start of a new beginning.
And a new end.
It didn’t matter that Warren had rented the place out for a couple of hours before the club’s official opening time or that it was a Tuesday night. I couldn’t stop the nerves that jolted through me.
“Are you okay?” Lewis asked, as if he knew how terrifying this was for me. He had been there that night after all.
“Fine. Just nervous, is all.”
“It’s going to be great.” He offered me his arm. “New memories.”
I nodded reluctantly. That was what I wanted. New memories to replace the ones that were now tinged in sadness whenever I got too close to them.
Lewis and I entered the Percy hotel and took the elevator up to Club 360 with Amy and Enzo. It was exactly as I remembered it. Open-air club with a large dance floor buffeted between a horseshoe bar and VIP booths. Only, now, a retractable glass roof had been put in place over top of most of the dance floor, and heat lamps lined the room. The room was crowded with people here for the event, and I picked out my agent, editor, and some of the Warren staff in the crowd. A sign hung across one wall that read, Congratulations, Olivia!
“Oh my god,” I gushed. “This is so amazing. Thank you all so much for coming.”
Caroline peeled away from the group and pulled me into a hug. “It’s all for you.”
Gillian appeared beside me. “And look.” She drew me over to a round table at the back. “We even have a cupcake tower where you can add your own icing. Just like in the book when Lacey eats icing straight out of the container.”
I laughed in surprise and delight. “Icing saves the world again. I’m obsessed.”
“We’re so glad that we could convince you to come up to the city to do this,” Gillian said.
“Me too,” I admitted. I’d tried to get out of it so many times. And now, I was here and so glad that I was. “This is beyond anything I could have envisioned. This entire launch has been perfect. I couldn’t have done it without you, Gillian.”
She hugged me. “I am so glad that I was the one who was able to put this story out into the world. Bet on It is just the beginning. Caroline has been whispering in my ear that your next book idea is even more amazing. I’ll be thrilled to look at it.”
“Oh, Gillian, that will be wonderful.”
Of course, I didn’t know what book Caroline had been telling her about. We’d put together some kind of pitch for both my literary idea for Natalie and the bare bones idea I’d had last year after Bet on It but hadn’t been able to work on. Caroline had said that Gillian would probably buy either, but I really, desperately wanted to sell my Natalie idea. I loved what was happening for Olivia, and this party was proof of that. But I wanted it to be for me, too.
“I can’t wait to read what you have so far. Caroline said she’d send them over when you were ready. I’m sure it’s going to be another masterpiece.”
I blushed. “Thank you. Let’s hope so.”
“I’ve read your work. I know it will be,” Gillian said with a wink. “Now, enough chitchatting. Let’s introduce you around to some of these people that you don’t know.”
I met so many new people that I knew there was no way that I could remember them. Even with my prodigious memory and my writer’s curse, people were starting to blur together. I’d lost track of Lewis early on, and Amy and Enzo were conspicuously absent. But I put all of it out of my head because this was a once-in-a-lifetime sort of event, and I planned to enjoy it.
“So, Olivia,” a woman said, who I was pretty certain Gillian had introduced as Jessica, “are you ever going to reveal who exactly the book is based on?”
Gillian gasped in mock shock. “A lady never kisses and tells, Jessica.”
I laughed at Gillian’s response. Jessica wasn’t the first—and likely wouldn’t be the last person—who had asked me that.
“And it isn’t about you?” Jessica pried.
I laughed and shrugged. “Do you think I’m that glamorous?” I hedged.
“Well, we did notice you walking in with Lewis Warren,” another woman, Grace, said conspiratorially. “He’s one of the most eligible bachelors in New York City.”
“Lewis is just a friend,” I assured them. Or was I assuring myself?
“She’s the darling of Warren Publishing,” Gillian said, wrapping a possessive arm around my shoulders. “Of course a Warren is showing interest.”
Grace and Jessica went on to gush over the novel. Recounting what they would have done in my place after finding out about the bet. As if the situation were so easy when you were the one in it.
Of course, the book wasn’t a hundred percent autobiographical. There were embellishments for the story’s sake and changes to protect the guilty parties involved. But I still thought the strongest thing I’d ever done was walk out of that party.
“Oh!” Gillian said with delight. “Sorry, girls, I need to steal Olivia for a minute.”
“We’ll talk later!” Jessica said with a wave.
Gillian gently tugged me away from the two women. “There’s this incredible woman that I want you to meet. She’s so well connected. I’ve truly never met anyone else like her. She’s bold and confident and daring. And she’s slowly building an empire here in New York. I met her at a museum opening a few weeks ago and invited her to come to this event. I had no idea if she would actually show.”
“She sounds amazing.”
“Truly, she is. And I think she could only help with the upward trajectory of your career.” Gillian sipped her champagne. “Here she is—Jane!”
My stomach dropped. Oh god.
Jane Devney.
She was shorter than I remembered with ash-blonde hair to her shoulders and wide, unassuming hazel eyes that seemed to shift in color right before my eyes.
“Natalie!” Jane cried in surprise and delight. A slight accent highlighted her word. Though I couldn’t exactly place it. She leaned forward and kissed each of my cheeks.
Gillian’s mouth dropped open, and she glanced between me and Jane in shock.
The last time I’d seen Jane Devney was at the Kensingtons’ Hamptons mansion when I broke it off with Penn. And worse…she had been dating his brother at the time. I had no idea if she was still dating Court Kensington. It seemed unlikely, knowing the train wreck of a man he was. But I still looked uncertainly behind her to see if he was there. I didn’t see him though.
“I had no idea you were going to be here. I’d heard that you left the city,” Jane went on.
“I…I did,” I said.
“Well, you look fabulous. I was speaking to Elizabeth Cunningham only last week about the state of the market and how we need more originality. I was thinking specifically of you because I remember you wore her, correct? And this hair. Well, no one forgets this hair.”
Gillian gaped at me. “You wore Elizabeth Cunningham?”
“No,” I said hastily. “That must have been someone else you’re thinking of, Jane.”
“Certainly not. I never forget a face. We met in Paris two summers ago at a Harmony Cunningham party after all.” She turned to Gillian to explain, “I was working at the French Fashion Institute at the time while I was interning at Vogue Paris, and Natalie was staying at a flat nearby. She’s a gem, this one. You are lucky to have her here.”
“That is not exactly what happened—”
“She’s the author I was telling you about,” Gillian managed to get out.
“Oh, you’re the mysterious Olivia Davies,” Jane said to me as if all the pieces had just fit together. “Well, that makes perfect sense then, doesn’t it?”
“Does it?” I muttered.
“Well, I can’t stay long, but I’d love to catch up, Natalie. We never got enough time together when you were last in the city. I thought you were so charming and really going places. And look, I was right. Let’s exchange numbers, darling. Then, I won’t be without your company any longer.” Jane thrust her phone into my hand, and I dutifully put my number into her phone. She took it back and then handed it to Gillian. “Photo op.”
Gillian took the phone in surprise and obediently snapped a picture of the two of us together.
Jane showed me the image. “So glam. I’m going to text it to you now.”
My phone dinged, and there was Jane Devney’s number on the phone with our picture. And she was right. We practically looked like models.
“Jane, if you post this, will you please not reveal my pen name?” I looked at her with wide eyes, willing her to understand.
She tapped her finger to her lips twice. “I got you, darling.”
“Thank you,” I said in relief.
“But let’s hang out. Seriously.”
“Definitely.” I’d do anything for her if she didn’t let anyone on the Upper East Side know that I was Olivia Davies. I wondered then if she saw that desperation in my expression.
Jane turned from me to Gillian. “Thank you so much for inviting me to this,” Jane said with a kiss to her cheek. “It’s been grand. I’ll make sure to mention it to Marcie at the Times and my friend Hanna at USA Today. I think we could do a write-up about it.”
“Thank you, Jane,” Gillian gushed.
Jane twirled her fingers at us both and then disappeared.
Gillian turned to me with wide eyes. “Why do I have a sudden feeling there’s a lot that I don’t know about you?”
Natalie
6
I barely was able to steer the conversation with Gillian away from what had just happened with Jane.
I didn’t know why I’d thought it would be possible to keep everything a secret. I should have never agreed to come to New York. No matter how big the city was, my world was too small. It wasn’t possible for me to flit in and out and have no one recognize me. The people I knew here were the ones who could make or break a career. They were the Lewises and Janes of the world. Of course I would run into them when my publisher was trying to make my career.
I sighed and carried one of the containers of icing out onto the balcony. Amy’s mother had always kept a pint of icing around in times of trouble, and we had frequently found her seated on the couch in the living room, eating straight out of the container. I’d put it in the book, and here I was, living it again.
I’d forgotten to snag my jacket, and I was immediately frigid as I hit the open air. But I didn’t care. I needed a minute to sulk.
“Why so glum?” a voice asked from further down the balcony.
I glanced over and saw Lewis walk out of the shadows. He looked unbelievably handsome. It was amazing how much I’d forgotten from last year. Like the way his shoulders filled out his suit or the tilt of his full lips when he smiled or the hollow of his cheeks that revealed sharp cheekbones.
I turned my attention back to my container of icing. I didn’t need to think about him like that. “Just had a weird interaction.”
“What happened?”
“Jane Devney was here.”
“Court’s girlfriend?”
“They’re still together?” I asked in surprise.
He shrugged and leaned against the stone railing. “Depends on who you ask. But it seems so from the outside.”
“That’s surprising.” I hadn’t thought that Penn’s brother kept anything or anyone around for long.
“It is. Court doesn’t normally have real relationships.”
“Yeah.” I stuck a huge dollop of icing in my mouth and then offered him the spoon. “Want some?”
He laughed and shook his head. “All you.”
I shivered against the cold that was eating its way deeper into my skin.
“You look like you’re freezing. Here.” He removed the jacket from his suit and slid it over my narrow shoulders. The warmth from his body sank in, and I actually sighed in delight as it radiated through me.
“Thank you.”
He smirked deliciously. “Anything to get that reaction from you again, Nat.”
I flushed and turned back to my icing. Lewis was a flirt. I knew that. I’d always known that. He’d been like that with me from day one. But then…why did it suddenly feel like more?
Not that I was about to ask him. The last thing I wanted was to get mixed up in the Upper East Side again. Let alone with the crew and the dangers that came with their inner circle. Especially when I was the one who felt guilty about being here with him tonight. For using him to get more writing in.
“So, what did Jane want?” He leaned against the railing and sweetly stared at me.
“Nothing. I guess Gillian invited her for her contacts. She wanted her to get someone to write about the event and my book. But Gillian didn’t know, of course, that I already knew Jane. And that Jane knows me as Natalie, not Olivia.” I winced again at the thought of the encounter. “Just pure bad luck.”
“Ah, how did you explain that one?”
I shrugged. “Poorly, I think.”
My eyes slipped back to my container of icing. Lewis was being so nice to me. Not just in the incredibly arrogant and charming way that I knew he could be. The way he had been in the office of Warren Publishing. He wasn’t putting on a front here. He was just being…nice. Standing here and listening to me vent.
It was refreshing in its own way. Even if I didn’t want it to be. He hadn’t been wrong when he said that we’d gotten along so well before. We had. As friends…I’d thought. Now, here as…I had no idea what.
And the heat and tension between us made me feel worse about the reason I had agreed to be here with him tonight.
“That wonderful mind of yours is thinking hard again.” He leaned in closer. “Care to share with the class?”
“I shouldn’t have come to this party with you tonight,” I told him truthfully, setting the icing down on the balcony railing.
“Oh no, I definitely think it was the right choice.”
“No, I mean, I’m using you.”
He laughed. “Natalie Bishop, using me? Come now.” He brushed my silvery hair off my shoulder. “We both know that you are too sweet for such things.”
“I’m serious, Lewis.”
He tried to rein in his laughing grin but couldn’t quite manage it. “Maybe I want to be used by you if it means more time with you.”
“You don’t want to be used,” I murmured dryly. “Trust me. I know.”
He straightened, taking me in, in a glance. “This isn’t about Penn, is it?”
“What? No,” I spat. I shuddered at the thought.
“Well, if you’re not using me to make him jealous, then I don’t see how you could possibly do something that would offend me.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” I gasped out. “Why would you even think that?”
He shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
I frowned at that. I hadn’t even considered that option. That he would think I would see him just to get back at Penn in an
y way. I wanted nothing to do with Penn. Thinking about him was still too painful. I hadn’t even wanted to come to New York, knowing I might run into him. Maybe it made me a coward that I didn’t want to face him, but I couldn’t help it.
“Well, it’s not that. It would never be that.”
“Then, tell me.”
“I haven’t written in a year,” I confessed.
He raised his eyebrows. “So, that’s why you didn’t want to talk about it at the meeting yesterday.”
“Yes. Thank you for saving me from that.”
“Anytime. Though that doesn’t explain how you’re using me.”
“Well, after I left lunch yesterday, I finally was able to write for the first time. This bright and vibrant literary novel that I desperately want to publish under my real name and not Olivia. Something that is an all-passion project and—ugh!” I sighed in pleasure. “I’m loving it.”
“And you got all of that out of one lunch?”
I nodded. “So…I asked you to come with me today because I hoped that I’d be able to write more after.”
Lewis met my gaze for a moment and then burst into laughter.
“What?” I gasped, swatting at him. “I’m serious. I’m using you for a positive word count.”
“Use me away.” He pulled me closer against him. “Use me for more writing. I’m desperate to read more. Natalie, Olivia—be whoever you want to be as long as I get more out of your beautiful brain, and if that means more time with you, I suppose I could sacrifice myself for that.”
“You are outrageous,” I told him. “Here I was, all worried that I was using you as a muse, and you don’t even care.”
“How could I care?” He leaned forward into me. Our lips mere inches apart. His voice pitched low and seductive. “I want to be your muse.”
“You do?” I asked huskily.
A tingle ran through my body as he brushed the shell of my ear and dragged his finger down my neck.
“I do.” His hand trailed over my shoulder and down my arm before finding my freezing fingers. His thumb drew circles into my skin.
“What are you doing?” I whispered.
“What I should have done a long time ago.”