After the men continue to fight over me, Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome steps in front of the stage and offers, “Eighty thousand dollars.”
My eyes practically bug out of my head at the extravagant offer, and the whole room goes silent as they stare at the man, who effectively shut up Brody Farrell and the real estate agent.
“Eighty thousand going once…going twice…” The announcer pounds his little wooden gavel on the podium. “You, sir, have won a date with the lovely Victoria Ciccone.”
I stand awestruck in the spotlight as the handsome stranger grins at me and then walks off into the crowd as if he didn’t just bid an exorbitant amount on a date with me.
“Next up is CiCi Baruthe. Can we bring CiCi up on stage, please?” the announcer asks the audience.
I take it as my cue to get the hell off this stage, and my legs are suddenly wobbly as I make my way down. Brody Farrell is waiting for me, and he extends his hand to help me down the last few steps.
“Thank you,” I tell him. When I try to pull my hand away, he holds on tighter and draws me in closer.
“Victoria, I know our fathers have their differences, but I’d love to take you out sometime.”
I can see my father seething over the interaction. If he was a cartoon, smoke would definitely be shooting out of his ears right about now. Turning my attention back to Brody, I say, “I don’t think that would be a good idea right now.”
His hopeful face morphs into anger as he releases my hand quickly as if I just burned him. “You’re gonna regret sayin’ no to me,” he threatens menacingly before turning on his heel and stalking away from me, followed by three of his goons.
I stare after him as an icy chill dances up my spine. That was terrifying and downright uncalled for. I can date who I want, and I definitely don’t want to get mixed up with the family my father is always trying to conquer and undermine.
After spending the next half an hour searching for Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome and having no luck, I escape outside the double doors to the backyard. The patio overlooks a grand, manicured lawn and the Nicoll Bay in the distance.
It’s dark and quiet out here, and I feel like I can actually breathe. I take in several deep breaths, inhaling the cool, night air. I’m so thankful this is my last party of the season. I don’t think I could do one more charity gala even if I wanted to.
Wrapping my arm around one of the large pillars, I rest my head against the hard surface and stare out into the distance. The moonlight reflects over the calm water, and I’m taken aback by the beauty of it all.
As a soft breeze blows, I get a whiff of familiar cologne. Turning, I see the handsome stranger sitting on a chair, staring out at the same picturesque view I am.
“Trying to hide so you don’t have to actually pay for our date?” I joke.
A slow, lazy grin pulls up at the corners of his mouth, but he doesn’t turn to me. He must have known I’ve been here all this time. “I’ll be happy to let you know that I already paid for it. And I’m nothiding. I’m simply avoiding a pretentious asshole.”
“There’s only one of those in there?” I ask with mock surprise.
He chuckles in response. “There aremanyactually, but one in particular was getting under my skin.”
“Ah, I see.” I stare at him, drinking in every feature. He looks just as handsome as he did the other day in the coffee shop. The stubble lining his strong jaw is a little thicker, making him appear older.
“You know my reasoning now. What’s yours? Why areyouout here?” he asks.
“I hate crowds,” I confess.
My admission seems to surprise him. “So, why do you attend so many of these parties then?”
My brows crease in confusion. That’s twice that he’s said something to indicate he knows me…or knows about me. Perhaps he’s seen me in the tabloids just like everyone else in this city. And it’s really disappointing if that’s true, because he knows the fake persona that’s portrayed to the public, not the actual girl standing here in front of him right now. “You know, you sure do know a lot about me. And I don’t even know your name.”
Standing, he walks slowly over to me. “Damon. Damon Romero.”
He towers over my petite frame when he’s near, and I find it hard to breathe when he’s this close. He’s so brutally handsome that it almost hurts to look at him, but I find myself getting lost in his eyes. Eyes that seem so otherworldly and oh so familiar. I instantly know who they remind me of, and I have to force myself from saying his name out loud.
Arlo Rossi.
The color is an exact replica. And I would know…I spent many years staring into them, memorizing them.
For a moment, I allow myself to wonder if this is what Arlo would have looked like if he had lived a full and long life. They both share the same eyes and same dark shade of hair, but Arlo remains a little boy in my mind. A young boy frozen in time. Maybe he would look completely different from this man now.
The sad thing is…I'll never know, because he died the night of the fire. That was the worst night of my life, and it still invades my thoughts and dreams often.
