“Oh, come on.” Julianna’s shoulders sag. I can practically see the air deflating out of her chest like a sad, day-old party balloon.
“I wasn’t planning on following through with the date anyway, Jules,” I tell her.
“Of course you weren’t.”
I let her sarcastic comment slide. “If Treena thinks it’ll only shine a brighter spotlight on me by participating, I won’t. I’ll still donate money to the charities. You know I will.”
Julianna stares at me without saying a word, her eyes reminding me of our mother’s. Soft yet strong.
Though it doesn’t come easy to her, she concedes. “Fine.” She blows out a heavy breath, crossing her arms over her chest.
A soft knock on the door catches our attention. We all snap our heads in that direction as the door softly opens. A woman with an earpiece stuffed into her right ear, the kind with a spiraled cord that disappears under the back of her shirt, pokes her head between the door and doorframe. She winces, then finds my sister.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but we have an issue we need your help with.”
“I’ll be out in a minute, Hannah.”
The woman, apparently named Hannah, anxiously glances around the room. “It’s sort of an emergency.”
“Okay.” Julianna runs her hands down the front of her dress before leaving the room, but not before she brushes past me. She stops and wraps her small hand around my arm,giving it a squeeze. “This will all work out. We’ll get through this.”
“It doesn’t exactly feel like it right now.”
“This is Rome Montgomery, remember? You said it yourself. If this rivalry has taught us anything, it’s that our family name won’t allow us to be defeated. He won’t win.”
I close my mouth and nod.
Julianna gives me a weak smile before leaving, and her absence is felt immediately.
I must appear to be on the brink of falling apart because Treena is now looking at me as though she’s worried I’m going to snap. She could be right. My head feels like it’s going to explode and paint these bland walls with crimson.
“Your sister is right, Mr. Capuleti,” Treena says. “Just go out there and act normal.”
“Right.” I laugh sarcastically. “Like I can just go out there and pretend my entire world isn’t about to blow up.”
My world is about to change the second I step foot out of this room. The paranoia of secretive glances won’t just be in my head, they’ll be real.
I try not to let panic set in, but I know it’s too late. My palms are sweaty and the floor shifts underneath my feet. I’ve fought for years to keep myself together and not let my past dictate my future. I’ve built a life for myself and my magazine, focusing on what I need to do to succeed. Now, Rome Montgomery is threatening to ruin it all over a stupid article I had no idea was even published.
Treena’s phone rings from her pocket. She plucks it out, reads the screen, then looks up at me. “I need to take this. I’ll meet up with you later at the end of the event.”
I nod in acknowledgement, and she slips out the door, leaving Vanessa and me alone.
I adjust the cuffs of my suit and shake out mynerves. If I’m going to walk back out into the ballroom feeling like I’m knee-deep in legal metaphorical horseshit, I need to at least do it with my head held high.
Then an idea occurs to me.
I tug my phone from my pocket and type out a quick yet massive email to my entire writing staff to meet with me first thing Monday morning. I don’t care if Vanessa and her team of lawyers are working the investigation. I’ll work my own and figure out who the anonymous writer was. We’re set to meet anyway to discuss a story idea for an editorial column I think will catapult my magazine to the forefront in a city where it’s easy to slip into the background.
After hitting send, I brace myself for the fallout of tonight, knowing I’m basically marching straight into the lion’s den that is my sister’s auction.
“I need to get going as well,” Vanessa says, walking toward me. She holds her briefcase in front of her, the top of her full breasts swelling beneath the gap of her open blouse.
I don’t tell her about my email to my staff or how I’ll be secretly conducting my own investigation, too.
“I’ll walk you out.” I don’t waste any more time rejoining the auction. I’m ripping off the Band-Aid, so to speak.
I swing the door open and step out into the hallway, only to immediately crash into a delicate frame that has me knocking her off her feet. I’m quickly surrounded by blonde hair, various shades of bright yellow, and a sweet floral scent that makes my stomach clench in delight.
