"No. My father's here and someone's been feeding him lies about Isla. Who would do that?"
Harrison's expression shifts. Guilty.
"Harrison. What do you know?"
"I didn't think—" He stops. "Look, Vivienne mentioned to her mother that you were serious about this girl. Her mother plays tennis with your father. I think that's how he found out you were at the gala together."
"That's how he knew to come. But someone told him specific things. Conversations Isla supposedly had. Things she supposedly said about me."
"I don't know anything about that. But…" He hesitates. "Tyler's been acting weird tonight. And his date, Chelsea? She's been circulating, talking to people, asking questions about Isla."
Chelsea. Tyler's date. The same girl who was bitter that I won the auction instead of Tyler.
"Where is she?"
"I saw her heading toward the restrooms maybe five minutes ago."
I find Chelsea in the hallway outside the women's restroom, touching up her makeup.
"Sebastian! Having a good night?"
"Cut the bullshit. What did you tell my father about Isla?"
Her smile falters. "I don't know what you're?—"
"Don't lie to me. He said someone overheard conversations. Someone told him Isla was bragging about landing a Thornhill. That was you, wasn't it?"
Her face flushes. "I was just being honest about what I heard?—"
"You didn't hear anything because she never said it. You made it up."
"I didn't make anything up! She—" Chelsea stops. "Fine. Maybe I filled in some blanks. But everyone's been thinking about it. She's obviously using you. I was just trying to help you see that."
"Help me? You potentially destroyed her reputation and our relationship because you were jealous?"
"I wasn't jealous! I was trying to save you from making a huge mistake." She crosses her arms defensively. "Tyler should have won her. You humiliated him by bidding so high. This was supposed to be payback."
"Payback." I'm vibrating with rage. "You ruined, you might have just ruined everything because Tyler's ego couldn't handle losing an auction?"
"It's not just about that. You're Sebastian Thornhill. You're supposed to be with someone appropriate. Someone from our world. Not some scholarship student who?—"
"Get out."
"What?"
"Get out of this gala. Now. Before I have security remove you."
She stares at me, shocked. Then grabs her clutch and stalks away, muttering about how I'll regret this.
I don't care about her. Don't care about Tyler or his wounded pride. I only care about finding Isla and fixing this.
I pull out my phone and call her. It goes straight to voicemail.
Text:Isla, where are you? I need to talk to you. It's important.
No response.
I search the ballroom again. Check the bathrooms, the coat check, the lobby. Nothing.
