The weight of this responsibility presses on my shoulders as I weave between glamorous partygoers, feeling more out of place than ever.
“Bix, is that you?” calls Rafe, coming up to me with a friendly wave. “Headed back to the hotel so soon? I’ll walk you.”
“No. Stay at the party. I’m perfectly fine. It’s just across the street, anyway.” I attempt a smile.
“No way. I’ll escort you,” he says, taking my arm. “My mama raised me to be a gentleman.”
I glance back at the party, spotting Slayer in conversation with Valentina, his head bent close to hers, smiling. Something in my chest constricts. But I force my attention to Rafe. “Slayer spoke of your mother. Seems she’s left quite a mark on him.”
“Yeah,” he says with a slight chuckle. “She’s pretty special.”
I think of my own mother. Cold. Distant. Distracted.
“What makes her so?”
“Hard to say,” Rafe says as we stroll under the streetlights. “Iguess when it comes down to it, she was a cool mom. Laid back. Accepting. I guess that’s the word.”
Rafe turns quiet for a moment, his eyes distant with memory
“She loved complementing our achievements, no matter how small. Making me, my sister, Sue, and especially Slayer feel on top of the world. His own mom… Well, she couldn’t be bothered.”
I picture a younger Slayer, hungry for approval that never came. “What was Slayer like when he was a kid?”
“Like he is now, I suppose.” Rafe’s lips quirk into a half-smile.
“He was a brooding kid well before he was a teenager. Rebellious. Challenged authority. Always in trouble at school. I suspect he was never kicked out because he was such a genius.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s gifted. Especially in math. Mom convinced him to compete in national and international competitions. When he won the International Mathematical Olympiad, our principal was so proud he put out a press release.”
“Impressive. Slayer’s full of surprises.” I try to reconcile this image with the furious man who just threatened to cut me out of his life. “Have you met his ex-wives? His girlfriends?” I ask, unable to stop myself.
Rafe nods, his expression carefully neutral.
“What were they like?”
“Now that’s something for Slayer to tell you. Why do you ask?”
“Because I love him too. I don’t know how much you know about me, what I’m doing here this weekend...”
“Yes. He told me. You’re supposed to be his fake girlfriend. Something about a publicity campaign playing sunshine to his rain. And from what he told me, you have been.”
I sigh. “Meaning I’m doing a good job lightening his bad-boy image for the press through my interviews?”
He shakes his head. “No. I mean you’ve banished the shadow that’s been chasing him. He’s lightened up. Mom would say his aura has changed.”
I manage a smile and a nod.
“Tell me what’s troubling you,” Rafe says after a moment, takingmy hand. “It’s probably a misunderstanding. Slayer can be like that. He speaks quickly, without thought.”
I nod, wanting to believe it. “You’re right. It’s probably a misunderstanding. It’s been a long day. And he’s under pressure about his concert tomorrow.”
“That’s the spirit,” Rafe says, as we enter the marble lobby of the hotel. “Shall I walk you to your room?”
“Thank you. But I’m fine.” The words are automatic, a shield I’ve learned to deploy. I look at Rafe a long moment before I lean into him and give him a kiss on each cheek. “Goodnight.”
He turns to go, then pauses, looking back at me, silhouetted against the lobby’s golden light. “By the way, I think you’re good for Slayer. Really good.”
