“Thank you for your concern, Cassidy. But I think I’ll decide for myself who Daniel is and what this relationship means.” She turns to me, and something in her expression makes my chest tight. “He’s not perfect, neither am I, but what we have is real, and it’s ours. Why don’t you find some other place to dump your bitterness?”
Cassidy’s eyes narrow. “How romantic. Let’s see if you still feel that way in a month.”
“Let’s,” Bailey says evenly.
For a moment, no one moves. Then Cassidy laughs.
“Well. This has been enlightening.” She sets down her champagne glass. “Enjoy your evening, Daniel. Bailey.” She emphasizes Bailey’s name. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.”
She walks away, heels clicking against stone. The moment she’s gone, chatter creeps back into the room, but Bailey and I barely participate. Thankfully, the others seem to sense we don’t want to be disturbed. When Bailey tugs at my jacket a while later, complaining of exhaustion, I don’t argue. I don’t even bother with goodbyes. Instead, I guide her through the back door, away from the noise, letting the evening dissolve behind us.
The elevator ride back to our rooms is suffocating.
Bailey stares at the doors, jaw tight, saying nothing. I can feel the tension radiating off her in waves.
“You didn’t tell me she’d be here,” she says finally.
“I didn’t know.” It’s the truth. “I swear, Bailey, I had no idea she’d show up. She just always stirs up trouble.”
Her voice softens. “Then maybe you should tell me what kind of trouble.”
The elevator doors open to the penthouse before I can answer. We walk down the corridor toward our adjacent rooms. My gut tightens.
Cassidy’s reappearance isn’t a coincidence. The way she saidfiction… does she know something? What is she planning?
“Daniel?” Bailey has stopped at her door. “Are you okay?”
“Fine. Just tired.”
She studies my face. “You’re lying.”
“Get some rest. We have an early flight tomorrow.”
I disappear into my room before she can argue.
Before I can admit that I’m terrified of losing her to the mess I’ve created.
13
Bailey
Iwake up to London rain pelting the hotel windows and a knot of anxiety in my stomach that won’t dissolve no matter how much coffee I drink.
The investor summit resumes at ten, and all I can think about is Cassidy. Her smile last night was venomous, but then again, why? Whatever happened between her and Daniel to make her this vengeful?
Daniel knocks on my door at nine thirty, already dressed in a charcoal suit.
“Ready?”
“Do I have a choice?”
His jaw tightens. “Bailey—”
“I’m ready. Let’s go.”
The morning session drags. Presentations about market forecasts and investment portfolios blur together while I sit beside Daniel, hyper-aware of every breath he takes. His hand occasionally brushes mine when he reaches for his water glass.
At lunch, he announces we’re attending the afternoon press mixer.
