Still not looking at him, I catch the set of Declan’s shoulders go stiff in my peripheral and wait for him to start swinging. To tell the truth, I wish he would because maybe it’s what I need. Maybe I need to get the piss beat out of me. A concussion might scramble my brain enough to help me start thinking clearly.
Instead of picking me up and dropping me on my head, Declan just stands there, empty glass in hand, watching me while I watch Millie like he’s waiting for me to do something stupid.
Still talking, her escort shakes his head while Millie reaches back and pulls his hand from her waist. The relief I feel is ridiculously short-lived when he dips his head to graze his mouth against her temple before leaving her alone.
I don’t even realize I’m moving until Declan shifts his considerable frame into my path. “Don’t do that.”
“Get the fuck out of my way,” I growl, barely squeezing it out around the clench of my jaw.
“Sorry, man—can’t do that.” Declan gives me a head shake,his tone telling me he isn’t really sorry at all. “I lost the coin toss, remember?”
“So that’s what this is?” I ask, tracking Millie over his shoulder. She’s on the move, draining her champagne flute before exchanging it for a fresh one on her way out onto the terrace. “You’re my fucking babysitter.” Something thin and silver flashes outside my line of sight and I look down, just in time to see the wink of it again, catching the light as she walks.
The anklet I gave her.
She’s wearing it.
That means something, doesn’t it?
It means?—
“No.” Dec gives me a head shake. “I’m your blocker.”
When Millie disappears from sight, I flick my gaze to his face before narrowing it to a glare. “My what?”
“Your blocker.” Throwing a quick look over his shoulder, Declan lets out an irritated sigh. “Look—you think I don’t know how fucking lucky I am?” Looking back down at me his expression softens slightly. “You think I don’t know that every goddamned day with Tess—with our children—is a fucking gift? I know—trust me,I know.” Leaning in, he lowers his voice. “Her father knows you’re here—he’s watching you and if he sees you charging off, after his daughter, he’s going to have his security team throw you off the balcony before she even knows you’re here.”
Over his shoulder, I watch as a stunning redhead in a black, backless dress steps onto the terrace, a few moments after Millie.
Straightening himself, Declan brushes his baseball mitt-sized hands down the front of his suit jacket. “So, yeah—I’m yourblockerasshole,and you’re gonna play it cool. You’re gonna wait and you’re not going anywhere near Millie Blackwell until I fucking say so.”
FIFTY
I’ve been standing here, alone, forabout twenty minutes now. Not long after Henley went back inside, the emcee called everyone to the adjoining room so they could start the auction. Listening through the open door, I hear my mother’s auction number announced over the PA system as the winning bid. That makes five out of seven lots so far. The emcee jokes that my father is going to have to buy another penthouse just to house my mother’s winnings and everyone laughs.
I know I should go inside.
That I should be in there, sitting next to Curt, laughing right along with them. Showing them that nothing that’s happened over the last few months bothers me. Thatthe fact that the woman—my cousin and best friend—who inexplicably made it her mission to ruin my life is being welcomed back into the fold as we speak, means nothing.
Instead, when Curt came out here looking for me, I hid. Pushed myself behind the row of tall, potted shrubbery that lines the ballroom’s exterior wall. I watched while he walked the length of the terrace—even looked over the side of it like he thought I might’ve jumped rather than face the fact that Paige and Dean are here together.
Because he knows.
Everyone must know by now.
Must’ve seen them together and concluded that once again, Millie Blackwell is playing second chair to her beautiful, back-stabbing cousin.
Not finding me, Curt stepped back inside. A few seconds later, my phone started vibrating in my clutch. Pulling it out, I find a text waiting for me.
CH: Are you okay?
Tapping out a quick reply, I hit send.
Me: I’m fine. I’ll be back in a few minutes.
I meant it. I had every intention of walking into that auction room with my head held high but every time I try, I imagine Dean sitting at the back of the room with Paige. I can practically see her whispering in his ear, hand in his pants under the table. Stroking him like she did at my rehearsal dinner, while she tries to talk him into the nearest bathroom so she can give him one of her infamous blowjobs.
If I saw that, I reallymightjump off the balcony.
