The three brothers fall into easy banter that speaks of decades of shared history. I watch them, fascinated by how different they are, yet how seamlessly they connect. It’s clearthey aren’t biologically related, but the bonds between them seem stronger than many blood relationships I’ve witnessed in my career. But holy shit, I can’t believe he isthatAaron from college. Did he pick Parras Law to find an attorney to shadow because he knew I worked there? I have so many questions but tonight is about his brother, not our past.
“So, Minji.” Axel turns his attention back to me. “Aaron tells me you’re a divorce attorney. That must give you an interesting perspective on relationships.”
“It certainly teaches you what not to do,” I reply, taking another sip of champagne.
“I bet. Ever handle any athlete divorces? Those can get messy.”
“Client confidentiality prevents me from discussing specific cases,” is my automatic reply.
“She’s not going to spill tea, Gray,” Aaron interjects. “Unlike some people, Minji understands professional boundaries.”
I catch the pointed look Aaron gives him, and Grayson has the grace to look slightly abashed.
“Speaking of professional matters,” Aaron begins. “I want to have some alone time with Minji.” His hand presses more firmly against my back, steering me away from his brothers. “Excuse us.”
As we move through the crowd, I can’t help but smile. “They seem nice.”
“They’re menaces,” Aaron mutters, but there’s undeniable affection in his voice. “I should never have mentioned you to them.”
“And what exactly did you mention?” I ask. I wonder if he is going to lie.
Aaron stops walking and turns to face me. “Well, I know you heard the slip up with Grayson.”
I nod.
“You probably don’t remember me, but we knew each other in college,” he begins. “You were my TA for chem, and then—” He hesitates. “Then we spent two months together. Until you ghosted me on Valentine’s Day.”
The floor seems to tilt beneath me. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. “You remember that?”
He gives a soft, hollow laugh. “Of course I remember. You made quite the impression.”
“That’s…” I struggle to find the right words, and I don’t want to seem like an asshole. “Well, I guess it wasn’t a lasting impression since you got engaged. Shouldn’t you be?—”
A commotion near the entrance draws our attention. A woman in a form-fitting black dress walks in, surrounded by photographers and, I assume, admirers. Even from across the room, I can see she’s stunning. She’s tall and slender with dark brown skin and an aura that commands attention.
I feel Aaron stiffen beside me, his hand dropping away from my back, almost immediately, as if I burned him. I glance up at him, and his expression has transformed completely. Gone is the warm, intimate gaze, replaced by something hard and distant.
“Aaron?” I call him, but I’m met with nothing but silence.
As if pulled by a magnet, he walks across the ballroom, weaving between people, directly focused on her. When he reaches her, there is a moment of stillness, and then they fall into an embrace. Not the stiff, air-kiss sort of hug you give a networking contact, but something that’s somewhere between a reunion and a reckoning. Her arms drape around his neck, and she leans in to say something in his ear. He doesn’t smile, but he also doesn’t move away. I feel something twist in my stomach.
Who the hell is that?
There’s a hot, prickly shame that comes with being the person left standing alone at a party, even if you’re technically nobody’s date. The current conversation in the room has shiftedentirely; everyone is craning their necks, trying to get a read on the pair. She must be someone of importance, not only to Aaron but to everyone in this room for the most part.
“That’s Vanessa Moreau,” says a voice beside me. I turn to find Grayson, watching the scene with a frown. “Fashion designer, philanthropist, and Aaron’s ex-fiancée.”
“Ex-fiancée?” Who would have thought she would’ve shown up right after he told me about her in the car? As always, the odds are in my favor.
“Yeah.” He scoffs. “They were together for years, most of their twenties.” Grayson’s eyes never leave from where Vanessa and Aaron are standing—it must’ve been one hell of a breakup. The two are deep in conversation, heads bent in the way of old secrets and a history that can’t be faked or outgrown.
I downed the rest of my champagne. “How long ago did they…”
“Four years,” Grayson says. “But it was ugly. No one really talks about it. They haven’t been in the same room since. Well, until now, I guess.” The way he says ‘ugly’ makes me wonder what kind of carnage two beautiful people could inflict on each other. I want to ask, but I remember I have no right to any of this. I’m the interloper, the plus-one, the footnote to a reunion. “Nessa must be having a change of heart now. Probably wants to get back into his good graces, but I’ll never let that happen.”
I observe the two from across the room. Her hands move lively and free in the space between them. He leans in slightly, his attention completely on her. My chest feels suddenly tight. I know I shouldn’t care, especially after enduring an ex who hoarded mistresses like collectibles. Still, I find myself gripping my glass too tightly, recalling how Aaron looked at me in that tiny dorm room twelve years ago. Before Vanessa, before bestsellers, before tonight.
Grayson clears his throat, and I realize I’ve been silent too long. “You okay?”
