Carlos’s eyes flick between us, understanding dawning. “Ah, I see.”
Slayer turns our way as well. “Rhodes,” he acknowledges, voice cool. His arm slides around my waist, a physical claim that contradicts his earlier indifference.
“Slayer. Congratulations on the album. And on finding such a multi-talented companion.”
I sense both Sterling and Slayer are confused by Carlos’s comment. They have no idea about my concert at the marketplace. But neither asks him to explain.
I feel caught in a strange triangle of intense male ego—Sterling proprietary, Slayer possessive, Carlos intrigued.
“If you’ll excuse us,” Slayer says, tightening his hold on me. “We were just about to cut the cake.”
“Of course.” Carlos produces a business card, offering it to me. “If you ever decide to explore that voice of yours, Ms. Bismark. My door is always open.”
Before I can take it, Slayer intercepts, pocketing the card himself. “I’ll hang on to this for you, darling.”
Carlos retreats with a knowing smile, leaving an awkward silence in his wake.
“Opportunistic bastard,” Sterling mutters.
Slayer shakes his head. “Always trying to poach talent.”
I look between them. “I’m just the girlfriend, remember?”
Neither man responds to this, turning instead to the elaborate cake.
As Sterling signals for the confection to be cut and served, I notice Valentina watching me with new interest. It’s as if she’s reassessing a competitor she’d previously dismissed.
I take another glass of Champagne when the server offers, needing its liquid courage.
Across the restaurant, I spot Paul setting up at the DJ booth, replacing the previous DJ for the afternoon set.
He works here too?Our eyes meet briefly, and he offers a discreet wave of recognition.
At least someone here sees the real me.
Conversation resumes around our table. Sterling discusses the yacht he’s chartered for tomorrow’s press conference.
Then the conversation turns to Valentina’s impressions of Greenwich, Connecticut, during her exchange-student days.
As they speak, I feel increasingly like a ghost at my own belated birthday celebration.
The Champagne bubbles through my bloodstream, warming me from the inside—and loosening the tight control I’ve maintained all day.
I glance again toward the DJ booth, where Paul is now in full swing. I can’t help but bounce along as the crowd responds to his infectious beats.
I feel a genuine smile forming, along with an idea.
Maybe this pretend birthday deserves a real celebration after all.
CHAPTER 27
SLAYER
It takes all my concentration, but I keep a sharp eye on Bix as Valentina tries to monopolize my attention with stories of our high school days.
Turns out, she did go back to Italy and marry that prince her parents intended for her. They’re divorced now, she says.
Which must be the reason she’s floated back into my life so suddenly.
