She rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle she didn’t sprain something. “Most unrealistic thing I’ve heard this year.” Then, more seriously, “So you know about the whole thing? How’s heholding up? Those fucking articles—I swear—people just love making him miserable.”
My eyes flicked to Sebastian. To anyone else, he looked the same as always—composed, untouchable, perfectly put together. But I could see it. The faint shadows under his eyes. His hair was getting longer, like he hadn’t had time to maintain it. The tightness in his shoulders even when he stood still. Stress clung to him. It was unsettling seeing him like this—scrambling, carrying too much, looking one bad turn away from drowning in it.
“They’ll figure it out,” I said. “Ash, Elena… everyone at the company is pulling their weight. And if they can’t resolve the freeze, they’ll find another way to absorb the hit.” I said it with complete certainty. Because I believed in them. I believed inhim.
“I’m sure they will.” Her eyes lingered on me. “Did he get Oli on board?”
I opened my mouth to admit I had no idea when she edged closer, leaning in.
“Incoming,” she murmured.
“We all know each other. Don’t be weird.”
Sebastian was already walking toward us, smirk firmly in place and aimed at Aria. “Well, well, well—if it isn’t my favorite oathbreaker?”
Aria laughed. “Gosh, you’re still such a geek.”
“You got the reference, though,” he said, wearing that ridiculously attractive, warm smile as he hugged her. “Please tell me you’re turning your back on my brother and coming back to me.”
“Not a fucking chance,” Henry said, appearing out of thin air. He handed an empty glass to a waiter and grabbed a new one in a single smooth motion. His date—a beautiful Spanish womanwhose name I wasn’t a hundred percent sure of—stood beside him.
Aria stepped back. “Plus, you can’t afford me anymore,” she said, eyes on her former boss.
“Ican barely afford her,” Henry muttered, half hidden behind his glass.
Aria shoved his shoulder before extending her hand to Luca. It was curious how nobody seemed to know he existed until recently.
A second later, Raúl and Mateo joined us, and once the introductions wrapped up, I took a quiet sip of my drink just as Luca tightened his hold on Sebastian’s arm.
Interesting.
Luca always seemed to get a little more territorial when I was around. I caught one of the glares he shot my way and had to fight the urge to smile. I was guessing he’d found out I was working under his boyfriend. That probably hadn’t gone over well.
I hid my amusement behind another sip of my drink.
Mateo ended up beside me, looking smart in a linen suit with his shoulder-length, dirty-blond Viking hair down. He also looked a little sad, gaze drifting to Henry, who downed his entire drink in one go. Something was definitely off there.
“It is an incredible piece, Mateo,” Luca said.
“Thank you. Do you like sculptures?” Mateo angled his body toward him.
Luca nodded. “All art.”
I scoffed under my breath. Truth be told, it sparked every one of my insecurities. Luca, I’d learned during my light stalking, was an art major—just like Charlotte. So not only was he older and attractive, but he was cultured and smart too, and that really rubbed me the wrong way.
I tried to tell myself most of what he said sounded generic.
“I like art that forces you to take up space with it,” Luca added, turning toward the massive sculpture. “Pieces that don’t just sit in a room—they change the way the room behaves. Yours reminds me a little of Serra, the way it reorients you without you noticing.”
Mateo’s brows lifted, a small smile tugging at his mouth. “That is very high praise. Thank you, Luca.”
Fine. That might have been a little impressive.
Sebastian hummed, eyes still on the sculpture. “It does take up the room. There’s no denying that.”
“Ash is not big on modern art,” Luca said, his palm casually pressed against Sebastian’s stomach.
“That’s not true. I’m very appreciative of the work of Iris van Herpen and Issey Miyake,” Sebastian said, deadpan—like he hadn’t just named two fashion designers at an art exhibit.
