I turn my head to him, pitching my voice low so no passersby can overhear. “Before we go in, I want to thank you for doing all this for me.” My eyes begin to burn, but I take a breath and pull it back. “Even though you’ve created a lot more work for me.” I let out a cathartic laugh. “You don’t know how grateful I am.”
He studies my face. “We’re a team.” His mouth moves into a sly smile. “And for the record, I would have done it without all the fancy hotels.”
“Are you serious?”
He pokes his elbow into my side, talking out of the side of his mouth. “Come on, Jess, you’re the CEO of a TechRumble finalist company; you’ve gotta get better at negotiating.” He downs his glass of champagne in one swift movement before grabbing another from a passing tray.
I roll my eyes with a laugh. “Trust me, I’m never doing anything like thiseveragain.”
“Sure, you keep telling yourself that. But I know you, and I think you secretly love a high-risk, high-reward move. Taking risks is what life is all about...” He trails off, a glint in his eyes as they drag up to a theater box on the second-floor balcony.
My mouth goes dry as I follow his gaze and catch sight of Dominic Odericco. The ceiling fresco frames him like a god. Renaissance angels and clouds surrounding him in heaven as he presides over his mortal subjects. My nerves kick up into high gear as I realize Oliver must already be here too.
Like he can sense it, Dominic’s eyes flick to Spencer.
The sense of authority makes me shiver. “Wow, what did you do to piss him off?”
Spencer laughs and shakes his head. “Oh, that’s not his pissed-off face.” He says it so casually I don’t know how to respond.
“Did you ever in a million years think we’d end up here?” Spencer muses, his attention remaining fixed on Dominic.
“I thought the graduation disco was the peak of luxury.” My bright pink eyeshadow to match my A-line poofy pink dress with platform heels still gives me shivers every time I see the photo.
As we step arm in arm farther into the building, my eyes widen at the full orchestra placed on a tiered stage; the rhythmic tune of violins and cellos echoing across the walls makes it feel like I’m stepping back in time. Waves of black tuxedos interlaced with fine silk, velvet, and tulle flow around us as we take in our surroundings.
We pick up cheese and fig canapés before an Italian man approaches Spencer and drags him away to meet his new founder friends. A twinge of something that feels like jealousy briefly etches on my chest, but I’m coming to terms with the fact that if they knew the truth, I wouldn’t be accepted into the Vienna Boys Club with open arms anyway. And there is no point in wasting energy desiring something that will never love you back.
When we get home, the first thing we need to do is put together a plan for how to transition Spencer out of the CEO position and me in. But whenever I think about stepping back into the role, my gut twists. It wouldn’t be like it was before.All the extra eyes on Wyst have been fantastic for the future of the company; we’ve received more press and online traction than I ever thought possible. But when I imagine going back to the place I was in three months ago, being all consumed by the work, having no work-life balance, no room for anything or anyone else in my life, anxiety fizzes in my blood like the edges of crashing waves.
While Spencer holds court with his adoring fans, I head to the bar to get a stronger drink. I need to feel like I’ve gained that ticket money back somehow, and the open bar feels like the best place to start. The fresh Negroni stings against my tongue as I take my first sip. The bar spans the length of the hall, with waiters rushing to get everyone’s order as fast as possible.
The swell of music begins and the crowd descends onto the dance floor, men in tails and their dates following along like multicolored ducklings. Stunning women with twinkling jewels and fabulous dresses spin and twirl around their partners. The colors blend under the soft lights on the dance floor like the aurora borealis.
I lean against the bar and glance left at the dispersing crowd to find a pair of hazel eyes already on me. A pang of longing hits me. His dark hair looks shorter than normal, in a slicked-back formal style instead of its usual undone effortlessness. His tuxedo fits him perfectly, the black-and-white contrast pulling all the attention to his tall form and broad shoulders. My core aches and I swallow as every other person in the room melts away. I wanted to slow my feelings down, but I think I’m done for. I want to approach first, to run into him and kiss away the apprehension on his face. To spend the night in his arms. He’s surrounded by people I recognize to be major players at Odericco Investments, but at this point, I don’t care. All eyes are on Spencer tonight, not me. The competition is nearly finished; the decisions have likely already been made. I hold my breath and cross the floor toward Oliver. It’s time. I want him to know the truth because I want him to know me, to tear down the barrier even if it means risking how I think he feels about me.
“Hi,” he says, a slight furrow on his brow.
“Hi,” I breathe out, finally feeling something close to relaxed.
“You look...” He studies my dress, swallows, then glances at the managers around him. “A word I can’t say in front of colleagues.” His smile leaves goose bumps all over my body.
“So do you,” I say, giving him a shy but knowing smile.
We stare at each other for a few quiet moments, chests breathing deep, before I can’t take the heat of his gaze. I look away before his eyes consume me completely.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, studying my face.
My lips do their best attempt at a reassuring smile as I swallow my pride. “Can we talk somewhere alone? Before the winners are announced?” I have to tell him.
He looks down, then flicks his hazel eyes up to me. “I have to do something first, but I can meet you in ten minutes. Dom should be finished using the study now. Wait for me upstairs and we’ll talk in there.”
“Isn’t it VIPs only upstairs?” I ask, gesturing to a sign that says exactly that.
He winks at me. “I’ll make sure you’re on the list.”
I swallow and nod, heart palpitating as I watch him walk back to his colleagues. Glancing up to the gods of the theater,the red swags hanging in scalloped edges over the sides of the boxes. “Okay, see you there.”
Is it right to tell him here? After tonight, I might never see him again. I will get this done and he can hate me and we can go home to our separate lives. A clean break.
