“You did wonderful on stage,” Maven said, smiling at me brightly. I thought I saw something calculated in that smile when she turned to Nathan. “As did you, Mr. Black.”
“Truly. You’ve been amazing, Mr. Black,” Grace gushed. “The donors are eating this up. We’ve already been asked if the gala will be an annual event. They love the holiday cheer of it all.”
Maven nodded enthusiastically. “Sweet Dreams wouldn’t be what it is without you. We’re so lucky the team brought you in this season.”
Nathan preened just a fraction, the tension in his shoulders easing as he accepted the praise. “That’s very kind of you,” he said smoothly. “It’s been a team effort.”
“Well,” Grace said, looping her arm through mine before I could react, “we were hoping to steal Ariana for just a minute.”
Maven leaned in conspiratorially. “There’s a photo booth set up near the back, and we really want pictures of the women who put this whole thing together. You know — for memories.”
Nathan hesitated.
I felt it immediately — the way his grip tightened at my back, the way his gaze slid to my face, sharp and assessing. It was a silent question, a thinly veiled warning.
My pulse kicked up, my smile threatening to crack.
Then he laughed lightly, glancing around at all the affluent people he desperately wanted to impress who were very obviously watching him. “Of course,” he said, gracious as ever. “Go ahead, darling. Have fun.”
His hand slipped from my back with a kiss against my temple, but his eyes didn’t soften when they found mine.
“Just don’t take too long,” he added, voice pleasant, pleasant, pleasant even as it sent chills down my spine. “We’ll need to get back on stage soon to announce the final number of the night.”
My chest constricted as I managed a nod.
Grace squeezed my arm. “We’ll be quick,” she said breezily. “Promise.”
Maven added, “You won’t even miss her.”
They didn’t give him the chance to change his mind.
They threaded their arms through mine, steering me away with laughter and light chatter, the sound of the crowd swallowing us as we moved deeper into the room.
“You okay?” Maven asked quietly once we were out of earshot.
“What?” I replied automatically. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
The words came out flat. Empty.
Grace clicked her tongue softly. “Ari. Don’t do that. Not with us.”
I opened my mouth to argue, to insist I was okay, really, but my lip betrayed me, trembling before I could stop it. Heat burned behind my eyes, and suddenly everything felt too tight — my dress, my chest, the night itself.
Maven stopped walking. Grace did, too. “Oh, honey,” Maven said, her voice so full of concern it broke me. “Come here.”
They wrapped their arms around me, quick and fierce, like they were afraid I might vanish if they didn’t hold on. It took every ounce of willpower I possessed not to completely fall apart in their arms.
They see it.
They seeme.
I inhaled shakily. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or fucking terrified.
“Okay,” Grace murmured. “Okay. You’re okay. All right? We’re here. You’re not alone.”
I didn’t know what to do, what to say. I stood stock-still where they held onto my arms after pulling back from the hug.
Maven glanced over my shoulder, scanning the room. “He’s not looking.”
