I knew Ethan loved me, but I was still jealous. And despite what I said to Marco, her veiled insults hurt my feelings.
But I wouldn’t run. I would stay. I would do the job I vowed I would do. It didn’t matter that I was nervous. That I felt like I was being watched. It didn’t matter Adrian Abbott wouldn’t even look at me and that Sienna looked perfect standing at Ethan’s side.
Finishing up, Marco stepped back to pat me on the shoulder. “Fresh as a daisy.”
“Thank you.”
“Anything for you,” Marco purred.
I started back to the ballroom, but Marco caught my hand. Spinning back, I looked at him curiously.
“Just remember you’re the one going home with him tonight.”
I nodded swiftly, smiling.
Letting go of my hand, Marco grabbed my cheek to pinch it. “There’s that smile. Now go on, go wow me some more with your musical talent.”
As I headed back into the ballroom, a tingly feeling crawled up the back of my neck. Snapping my attention up, I watched a figure disappear around the corner ahead. Despite the way my stomach dropped and the fear pulsing through my veins, I changed direction to run toward it, careening around the place I’d seen it disappear.
The hallway was empty. Well-lit with no shadows for something sinister to lurk in.
Chest heaving, I scanned the vacant space before turning back. No one was there. So why did it feel like I was definitely not alone?
49
Ethan
* * *
I had never been more exhausted with high society than I was tonight. A shame that it came with a majestic ball that we’d been planning for well over a year. The pretentiousness felt heavy, the laughter sounded fraudulent, and the praise for this impressive opening seemed phony.
All I could do was stand here and play the game. A game I was so good at.
A game I never realized I despised this much until now.
Truth was maybe I wouldn’t dislike it so much if I felt like I wasn’t a puppet, my strings being pulled by the elitists so I would perform to whatever song they played.
I didn’t want to perform anymore.
I wanted to dance to a song of my own choosing. A song only Fletcher could play.
The expressions of the people I stood with shifted. Knowing smiles curved over their made-up faces, and gleaming approval nearly chortled from their throats. Before I could turn to look, something slithered around my forearm, and the brush of silk dragged along my tuxedo jacket.
Suppressing a deep urge to shove her off, I schooled my features into a polite mask, coolly glancing down. “Sienna.”
“Ethan, I missed you.”
I hated the way she said my name, a cross between a sigh and a whine. It grated my nerves and so did she.
Would she never get on a plane and fly back to the other side of the country? Great gods, I was beginning to think even that wasn’t far enough away.
“Please excuse us.” I spoke to those standing there watching us. When we turned, I looked for Fletcher, gazing across the room to where he played.
He’d been playing for quite a while now with no break at all. People were incredibly impressed by him, his talent unmistakable, and the triumph of me being able to book him made his entertainment all the more appealing.
He didn’t appear tired at all, his concentration focused somewhere else, clearly beyond this room. In this moment, I was slightly glad because he wouldn’t have to be subjected to the vision of me speaking with this she-devil dressed in pink.
I knew he’d been lying when he said he was fine before. Fletcher was not fine.
The blue tie around his neck was definitive proof. He’d been hurt by this catty, spoiled heiress’s remarks, words she’d just flung out carelessly with no thought for whom she might harm.
“You haven’t danced with me all night.” She pouted.
I looked at her like she had twelve heads. She might as well have. And all twelve of them were bonkers.
“I am not dancing with you.”
“But what will people say if you do not?”
“Probably a lot more polite things than what they will say when you drag me to the dance floor and I proceed to accidentally drop you on your behind and step on your hem to rip your gown.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me, little girl. Try me.”
Whatever she heard in my voice convinced her because she veered away from the dance floor toward the bar. “A drink, then.”
I started to pull my arm from beneath her talons. I would have to burn this jacket. She’d touched it far too many times. Too bad. It was a nice piece. I was sure Ivory would understand.
“So why didn’t you tell me that the destitute girl you’re dating is, in fact, a man?”
I gave her a mild, unsurprised look. “Figured it out, did you?”
“From all the way across the room. You really should learn to hide the way you look at him.”
“I would never,” I said, completely appalled.
“So?” She pressed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it doesn’t change the fact that I’m not interested in you.”
Her eyes flashed, and she removed her arm from mine. Near the bar, she grabbed a flute of champagne from a server’s tray and turned to face me. “You know if you’re going to bring home a man, the least you could do is choose one with impeccable breeding and an impressive bank account.”
“How’s that working out for you?”
She lowered the glass from her lips, eyes narrowing. “At least I’m not so desperate to bring home the help.”
If she were a man, I’d probably deck her. But she was a “lady,” so I had to settle for sharp barbs and mockery. “No, you just continually show up where you aren’t wanted and make catty, unflattering comments that show off the ugliness all that Botox and fake tanning tries so hard to hide.”
“My tan is not fake,” she hissed.
I smirked. “No? But your boobs definitely are. And honestly, they could have done a better job.”
She lifted her hand as though she would smack me. Thinking better of it, she drained her glass, thrusting it at the first waiter she set eyes on. Turning back, her eyes were cold and calculating. “You would seriously choose that over this?”
Why did people keep asking me that?
I sighed heavily. “Go home, Sienna. Find some poor sucker in L.A. who’s impressed with your daddy’s name, because if you stay here, I’ll ruin you.”
“Not if I ruin you first.”
I lifted my eyebrow. “And how will you do that? Tell everyone I’m gay? According to you, all they need to do is look at me to figure it out.”
“I’ll tell your father.”
I laughed. It was an honest, loud laugh that drew a few stares. “He knows.”
A flicker of doubt shone in her eyes. I chuckled again, making it dim further. “Did he encourage you to come tonight? Is that why you’re still here? Let me guess. He spoke to you last night, told you to show up tonight in my favorite color and give it one last try. The old man probably thought I would regret the way he stormed out after I told him.”
She didn’t say anything. In fact, she was finally beginning to look embarrassed.
I leaned in. “Even if I wasn’t completely in love with Fletcher and was straight as your hair fresh from the salon, I still wouldn’t look twice at you.”
“Good-bye, Ethan. Let’s never see each other again.”
“Finally something we can agree on.”
She spun to leave, but I caught her upper arm, turning her back. Her low gasp floated between us as I tugged her a little closer. I smiled at a couple walking by and then lowered my mouth to her ear.
“If you so much as look in Fletcher’s direction on your way out, California won’t be far enough away. Do you understand me? You’ll have to move to another country to get out from under the scandal I will bury you under.”
Her entire body tens
ed, her arm nearly vibrating under my grasp. “Let go.”
“Do you understand?”
She relented. “I understand.”
I let go, and she stepped back. I smiled. The fake transformation was so complete that confusion glazed over her stare. “It was so good seeing you, Ms. Pope. Please give your father my warmest regards and send my blessings to your mother.”
She blinked, then recovered to plaster an equally fake yet convincing smile on her painted-on lips. “I most certainly will.”
She left via the closest exit, and damn, it was so satisfying to watch her go.
The satisfaction lasted maybe three seconds because another well-dressed issue stepped right into her place.
50
Fletcher
* * *
When the music stopped, a few people approached, offering praise and business cards for jobs they’d like to hire me for.
I smiled and nodded, thanking everyone for their kindness. My attention was divided, caught between the musical world I’d just come back from, the people in front of me, and the vision of Ethan disappearing out of the ballroom after some man.
A man I hadn’t seen before.
Rationally, I knew that meant nothing. This room was filled with people Ethan knew I had never seen before. But this felt different somehow. Perhaps it was the set of E’s shoulders or the way I instantly disliked whoever that unknown man was.
Or maybe it was the fact that I still felt tendrils of unease curling around my feet in an attempt to shackle me down with anxiety.
When the last person drifted off, I turned to tell the piano player I was taking a short break, but the man was already gone. Apparently, he needed a break too.
We’d been playing for hours already. The pads of my fingers were sore. After this short intermission, I figured we would only need to play one more set before we would be able to finish for the evening.
I was ready to go, ready to be alone with Ethan. The Cossgroves materialized from a group, heading toward me, making my stomach bunch tight.
Inclining my head, I smiled, then headed off in the opposite direction. They were very nice people, but every time they approached or I noticed them watching me perform, my insides squirmed with discomfort.
Curious, I went in the direction I saw E go, toward one of the exits that led out into the wide hall. The massive double doors were thrown wide, and the air coming inside the ballroom was much cooler. Anger and something further slammed into me the second I had one foot in the hall. The intensity in the air was accompanied by Ethan’s voice, which was so harsh that I froze in place.
He never spoke to me like that. Not ever.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
Swallowing thickly, I backtracked into the doorway, out of sight. Ethan’s back was to me, but the man he was speaking to would see me if I stayed in place.
“Aren’t you thrilled to see me?” The man beamed.
I drew back, not expecting the almost whiny tone the man used. Nose wrinkling, I finished up that observation with a stray thought. Obviously, he’s not thrilled. Can’t you hear it in his voice?
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
The man’s brow creased as if he finally realized Ethan was not happy.
Why? Why didn’t Ethan want to see this guy?
“When your father called and said he would be coming to close the deal, I was so disappointed,” the man explained, taking a small step toward E.
Ethan’s shoulders stiffened, but he didn’t move.
“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you,” he purred, reaching out to stroke his tie.
Shock rippled through me, making my hands tighten at my sides and my mouth drop open. How dare he touch Ethan?
“So I told your father since you couldn’t come to me that I would come to you. I asked him not to say anything. I wanted it to be a surprise. So surprise!”
The man was larger than me but not as big as Ethan. He practically smelled like money, so it was clear he was someone from Ethan’s inner circle. His suit was deep gray, tailored to his frame, and his shoes were so shiny you could likely see your reflection in them.
But what irritated me the most—besides the fact that he acted very comfortable with Ethan—was his tie.
It was blue.
The same shade of blue as the one I was wearing.
“I don’t like surprises,” Ethan said, drawing my eye. “You should have called.”
“I’ve never needed to call before.”
“Because I was always the one to come to you.”
My stomach dropped. And wherever it landed, it took my heart with it. A dull roaring sound filled my ears as I watched them, trying to make sense of what they were saying.
All the conclusions I was leaping to made me want to puke.
“Exactly. And it was time for me to come to you.” His voice was smooth like butter. He spoke intimately even though he just used words like everyone else.
He stepped even closer, reaching out his hand again. I bit down on my tongue, and the metallic tang of blood swept over my taste buds.
Ethan knocked away the approaching hand. “Don’t touch me.”
The man rubbed the back of his neck. His hair was blond like Ethan’s and trimmed short. Making a show of looking around the empty hallway, he smiled. “Relax. No one is out here. No one will see.”
My lungs nearly burned from lack of oxygen, yet I couldn’t convince myself to breathe.
“I’m serious, Preston.”
I searched my memory for the name, for any information I might know. There was nothing. I didn’t know this name or this man. But Ethan seemed well acquainted with him.
A low ringing cut through the hall, the sound coming from inside Ethan’s jacket. He ignored it, choosing to stay focused on the man instead.
“What’s the matter, lover?” Preston crooned, shifting closer without taking a step. “I thought you missed me.”
Lover.
The breath I’d been holding whooshed out of me in one great exhale as if that word, that single word, poked a giant hole inside me.
This was Ethan’s lover? Ethan was having sex with this man?
But what about me? He said he didn’t want anyone else.
Did he lie?
My hand pressed to my stomach as I doubled over just slightly.
“There you are.”
The familiar voice made me shoot up, the hand dropping from my sick middle.
Earth’s eyes narrowed instantly. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing!” I said, trying to keep my voice quiet but making it sound squeaky instead.
Earth glanced at Beau, who was walking beside him, and they shared a look.
“Something is definitely wrong.” Beau confirmed.
“You spying on someone out there?” Earth asked, starting past.
Catching him by the arm, I pulled him back. “Wait!” I hissed, pressing a finger to my lips.
Intrigued, Earth and Beau leaned out the door to see Ethan and that blue-tie-wearing homewrecker.
Both my brothers’ faces darkened, and Earth’s mouth pulled into a flat line. “Who is that?”
I shrugged. “He called Ethan his lover,” I whispered. Then unable to stop the surge of unwanted emotion, my eyes filled with tears.
Beau cursed under his breath.
“I’ll kill him,” Earth spat and charged forward.
“No!” I yelled, grabbing the back of his suit.
It didn’t stop him. He just kept barreling forward, pulling me along with him as though I were on a pair of skis.
“What on earth?” Preston gasped.
I felt rather than saw the second Ethan spun and spotted us. I didn’t look to meet his penetrating stare. Instead, I focused on the back of Earth’s coat, which I was still holding.
“You jackass!” Earth roared, charging forward.
I let go of his jacket, stumbling back into Beau. Earth swung at Ethan, w
ho dodged the fist as if he’d done it a thousand times.
“Earth, stop!” I called.
“Security!” Preston wailed, ducking behind Ethan and wrapping his arms around his waist.
Hurt quaked inside me like a massive earthquake. Seeing that this man would automatically assume Ethan would protect him. Seeing someone touching what I thought was solely mine. Seeing that Ethan would even allow it.
“How dare you?” Ethan spat, and I wanted to die.
Is he mad Earth is threatening his lover?
I turned to go, but Beau caught my arms and forced me back around.
“I said never touch me,” Ethan spat, flinging Preston off him to step away. “And you,” he said to Earth, chest rising and falling with heavy breath. “Would you mind explaining why you are trying to clobber me?”
“As if you don’t know,” Earth grumped.
Ethan’s full stare swung to me. “Fletcher.”
“Who is that?” I asked, straightening away from Beau.
“This is Preston Willshire. He’s a business acquaintance from England.”
Oh, he had an accent. Was that why his voice sounded that way?
I didn’t like it.
Preston made an unhappy sound, and Ethan shot him a look, making him shut up.
“I heard him call you lover.” I lifted my chin. “Is he?”
“No,” Ethan replied instantly, not once looking away from me.
My heart unclenched a little, and I fought the wobble in my chin.
“I know you want to keep things private, but I flew all the way from England to see you, and you will deny me like this?”
“Shut up,” Ethan spat.
He came forward, but I froze him with a glare. He stopped halfway between me and Earth, his shoulder dropping a little. “Preston and I used to have a relationship of sorts.”
Earth made a scoffing sound.
“What kind of relationship?” I asked, a sinking sensation already pulling me down.
“Ah, maybe we could talk about this somewhere else,” Ethan said, glancing around.
“Answer the question,” Earth intoned darkly.
Ethan sighed. “We were friends with benefits.”
Prince Page 38