Either way, I have to find Oliver. I have to end this before I cause any more damage.
Chapter 27
Business Account (WYST) BALANCE: -£4,986.78
Personal Account BALANCE: -£1,915.30
My heels click against the stone stairs as I run to find Oliver. Malcolm’s offer, if you can even call it that, replays in my mind like a siren. Handing over half of Wyst to Malcolm is ridiculous; I’d rather burn the whole thing to the ground.
Multiple sets of footsteps echo up the stairs behind me. I freeze, fists ready at my sides to physically fight off Malcolm if I have to. But instead of the man I assumed would be hunting me down, two security guards appear at the end of the hall.
“Miss, can we see your pass, please?” one of the men says, holding his hand out to me.
I run to the next door, banging on it like my life depends on it. Oliver answers, still in his full tuxedo but his bow tie undone around his neck.
“Can I come in?” I ask, a relieved smile plastering my tearstained face; he doesn’t smile back. At that moment, my stomach sinks, the weight of my mistakes threatening to push me through the floorboards. Everything I’ve done, everythinghe doesn’t know I’ve done, has created this invisible chasm between us.
One of the men steps forward. “Miss, if you don’t have a pass, you need to leave this area immediately.”
My head swivels back around, shooting a pleading look at Oliver.
He studies me a final time, and with a bobbing throat, he says, “She’s with me.” He pulls a shiny black lanyard out of his jacket pocket with one hand, placing the other on my arm. It’s not a comforting touch, just a formality he is reluctant to take part in.
The man looks at him and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, sir. There must have been a misunderstanding.”
Oliver ushers me into the room, hand still gently gripped on my forearm. “No problem,” he says to the two men. He still hasn’t looked me in the eye but he leads me into the room. “Have a good evening.”
“Good evening, sir,” the men both say, voices overlapping each other.
Neither of us breathe as he shuts the door with a click. I watch as it disappears into the paneled wall, giving the illusion of a secret entryway. The smell of leather and old books hits my nostrils; I wish it was his peppery scent.
A gigantic curved oak desk with a green leather top sits in front of closed gold sash curtains at the other side of the room. Ornate clusters of settees and grand leather lounge chairs are scattered around the room. A wooden bar covers the corner with sparkling crystal decanters like diamonds atop a crown. Oliver said it was a study, but it feels more like an old-schoolsmoking lounge. Gold sconce lights cast an orange glow over the never-ending shelves of books. The orchestra’s music swells through the minute cracks around the door like ghosts howling a collective memory.
My heart rate slows when I finally lean against the door. A minor sense of relief that even though tonight has been a complete disaster, at least I’m not actively being held against my will or being thrown out of one of the fanciest venues in the city. Glancing down, my hands are still shaking as I turn the lock to make sure if Malcolm manages to follow me up here, he’ll be caught by security before he can reach us.
“Here.” Oliver takes a glass bottle of water from the bar, undoes the cap, and hands it to me. He goes to speak further but stops himself, relaxing his rising shoulders. “Drink that, then explain why you’re up here.”
My stomach clenches; he’s pissed. I told him I wanted to talk, but no less than sixty seconds later, I was dancing with a man I’d told Oliver I never wanted to see again. I analyze the situation from his perspective; from the balcony above, all he could see was me talking, dancing, and smiling with the man who ruined my life like we were old friends. There is no way from up there Oliver would have been able to see my hands shaking or the tears glazing over my eyes. He wouldn’t have been able to hear the harsh words being spat at me. My head pounds when I remember Malcolm’s lips so close to mine as he dipped me on the dancefloor. Based on his reaction to me now, Oliver must have left the moment he saw the disgusting scene. If he’s acting like this, he must not have witnessed me slamming down on Malcolm’s shoe and legging it for the exit.
Then again, Oliver could be just as pissed about me runningaway and ignoring him for two weeks, for being weird with him yesterday at the final round, or bashing his door down and making a scene with security. Maybe all of the above. Either way, I owe him an explanation for everything. And I deserve every consequence that comes next.
My throat bobs as I gulp down the water, using it as an opportunity to get my thoughts together. He doesn’t say anything, just paces the room, hands in his pockets, waiting for me to begin.
“Thank you for staying,” I say in between breaths.
His jaw ticks. “I’m here with Dominic. I can’t leave until he does.”
My chest sinks as I nod. “Right.” I take another long swig of the bottle, wishing it was something stronger. “We need to talk about some stuff.”
He spits out a laugh, opening a decanter of amber liquid and pouring it into a glass. “Yeah, no shit.” He paces the floor, the ice in his glass clinking as he moves. “Let’s just get this over with; you’re back together with your ex?”
I almost spit out the water onto the parquet floorboards. “What? Why would you think that?”
“You practically sprinted out of the apartment the other week when things between us started getting...” He stops himself. “Then you act all aloof yesterday like you’re hiding something from me. And then tonight, you’re laughing and dancing with him at the ball. You let him kiss you. What the hell else am I meant to think?”
I replay the events of the past two weeks. To an outsider’s view, it does look as simple as that. Iwishit was as simple as that.
“Surely, you understand where I’m coming from here, why I’m confused as hell,” Oliver adds, knocking back his drink and running a hand over his face. “I’ve spent the past two weeks running through the dinner at my place, wondering where I went wrong. What did I do to make you bolt like a spooked horse.”
