Then she’s gone. I hear her giving quiet instructions to her staff before the front door closes.
I sink to the floor among Claire’s scattered clothes, drawing a sweatshirt to my chest. Tears come without warning, and this time there’s no one here to witness them, no one to fold my pain into boxes or hold me. I already regret sending Athena away and I don’t know how to face her again, after I’ve thrown her kindness back in her face. The loneliness crashes back in, even sharper than before. Now that I’ve started crying, I can’t seem to stop, and all I can think is I don’t know how to carry on from here.
FOURTEEN
ATHENA
I adjust the drape of my white jumpsuit in the mirror, running my hands over the dramatically flared sleeves that fall around my wrists. Tonight isn’t about business. Tonight I need to lose myself, to shed the weight of the past few days in my underground sanctuary, not as a host but as a participant. The wide legs sway around me when I walk, swishing against my bare feet.
I haven’t heard from Ruby since she threw me out, and her car remains in the driveway. I feel guilty for upsetting her. Even though I know what we did was necessary, I might have pushed too hard, too fast. Grief has its own timeline, and I of all people should know better than to force it.
Zeus sprawls across my bed and yawns, then watches through half-closed eyes as I prepare for the evening ahead. His tail twitches occasionally in what might be judgment or might be approval—it’s hard to tell with him. Unlike most cats who demand attention, Zeus merely allows it, bestowing his affection like a monarch granting favors.
The white hat collection fills an entire wall of my closet—wide-brimmed hats, gambler hats, porkpie hats, fedoras,panamas in various materials, and even a few top hats, each one chosen to complete my image. I select a fedora, then open my jewelry drawers and choose a set of heavy gold bangles. Each piece tells a story—some from my grandmother’s collection in Athens, others acquired in Vegas.
A light comes on in Ruby’s office. She stands at her window, her hand rising in a tentative wave. It’s an awkward gesture. Is she apologizing? She’s wearing something black. A nightgown, maybe? It’s hard to tell from here.
I wave back, our eyes meeting across the space between our houses. The moment stretches, loaded with unspoken words. Then she drops her hand, and I turn away from the window. I need to stop worrying about Ruby, stop trying to control what’s beyond my control. If she wants my support, she’ll come.
“How do I look, little prince?” I murmur to Zeus, fastening the bangles around my wrist. “Want to come downstairs tonight? Party with me?”
He blinks slowly, supremely uninterested in my human affairs. The club holds no attraction for him—he’s seen it all before and found it wanting compared to the simple pleasure of claiming my entire king-size bed for himself. Sometimes I think he understands more than he lets on.
I make my final adjustments in the mirror, ensuring everything is right. In my world, details matter.
My phone buzzes—Robert, head of security. “Ms. Stavros? Your neighbor is at the gate. Ms. Walsh. She wants to come in.”
I freeze. “Ruby?”
“Yes, ma’am. She seems…determined.” There’s a pause, and I can hear the uncertainty in his voice. We have strict protocols, and Ruby’s appearance has thrown them into question. “How would you like us to handle this?”
Through the window, I can see Ruby’s home is dark now, and my mind races through the possibilities, the implications. “Bring her to my home office,” I decide. “Make sure she doesn’t encounter any of tonight’s arrivals.”
“Understood.”
I head downstairs to my rarely used study. Dark wood panels line the walls and Greek antiquities rest in lit alcoves between them. A massive desk dominates the space, its surface unmarred by the usual casino paperwork. I lean back in my chair and prop my feet on the desk, crossing them at the ankles. Tonight I’m off duty, so to hell with my manners.
Robert appears in the doorway with Ruby. She’s wearing a simple black cocktail dress with a low cleavage, her auburn hair sleek and gleaming. Makeup accentuates those striking green eyes but can’t quite hide the shadows beneath them or the slight redness that speaks of recent tears. She’s beautiful and broken, like a Greek statue missing its arms, and the damage only makes her more compelling.
“Thank you, Robert,” I say, dismissing him with a nod. “Please close the door.”
Ruby stands, her fingers twisting around a bottle she’s holding. She’s nervous, yet there’s determination in the set of her jaw, in the way she meets my gaze directly.
“Ruby, I feel terrible—” I begin, but she cuts me off by raising her hand.
“No,” she says. “I’m the one who needs to apologize. I shouldn’t have sent you away like that. I panicked, and I’m sorry.” She takes a deep breath, moving farther into the room. “You were right about everything. I need to deal with Claire’s ghost in the house, and I’m very, very grateful for your help.”
I study her face. The past few days have clearly taken their toll—the kind of emotional exhaustion that comes from finally facing what you’ve been running from. “How do you feel?”
“Like I’m drowning in loss,” she admits, sinking into the leather chair across from my desk. Her dress rides up slightly as she crosses her legs. “But I’m trying to embrace it. I haven’t allowed myself to cry much since Claire died, but I’ve been crying nonstop for the past few days.” One hand rises to her throat, fingers playing with a gold chain.
“That’s normal,” I say softly, watching her fingers against her collarbone. “It will get better from here. You’re not holding it in anymore. You’re letting it out.”
“You sound like you know what you’re talking about,” Ruby says, tilting her head. Her eyes search my face with an intensity that makes me want to look away. There’s something different about her tonight—a recklessness born of exhaustion and grief.
She holds up the Scotch I brought to her house. “Scotch for truth, right?” she says, a hint of challenge in her voice.
The flutter in my stomach surprises me. I’ve never had trouble admitting to myself that I find Ruby attractive—I’d have to be blind not to—but acting on it would be complicated. She’s my neighbor, she’s grieving, and she’s clearly not in a stable place right now.
