She grips my arm as we glide down the stairwell. It takes me a full minute to place the melody, then it clicks— “With or Without You” by U2 is playing.
I sing the bridge in my head. The nerves soften into a smile as I lose myself in the familiar song. Aidan stands at the bottomof the stairs, wearing that boyish grin that would once undo me with one look. Even Mr. Whitmore is fixated on his wife. With every note, I feel myself melt away.
Maybe this isn’t all bad.
Each lyric puts me at ease. We make it to the end of the staircase when my heels catch onto the hem of my dress. My balance wavers from a different pair of eyes on me.
His shaggy brown hair is perfectly styled as he stands at the edge of the crowd in his black suit. The music softens as everything dims around him.
He is standing there, just a few feet behind Aidan. When my eyes lock on him, everything slows to a glacial pace. The music. My steps. The world. Everything except my heartbeat.
Mr. All or Nothing is here in New York.
Both are waiting for me patiently at the bottom of the stairs. Aidan’s hand reaches for me as I make it to the last step.
“Care to dance?”
I nod, slipping my hand into his as we glide along to the dance floor, his hand cupped together with mine as we put ourselves into position. With all the dance lessons we have had over the last four years, we easily fall into place.
Every time Aidan spins me, I try to find those green eyes in the crowd.
Maybe he was a ghost, or maybe it’s the lack of oxygen going to my brain from this tightly corseted dress?
My hands slide around Aidan’s neck as we pivot from a sharp formal tango posture into something slower, softer.
Taking baby steps. One forward. One back.
“I miss you.”
“I miss you too, Charlotte,” he whispers.
I don’t think we have spent this much time together in weeks. Every thought bubbles up inside me. On the verge of erupting, he spins me again.
And there, his emerald eyes jump out at me, watching me intensely from afar. Holding my gaze as he’s daring me to look away, until the song ends and Aidan and I break apart.
“Do you mind if I speak to Mr. and Mrs. Fairchild over there?” Aidan asks, his eyes already scanning the room.
“Of course,” I say, forcing a smile as he drifts off to the couple. A drink magically appears in my hand as I step off the floor.
The Fairchilds are probably high on the list of people Aidan’s dad prepped him in advance on his meet and greet tour for the night. A list with a set of individualized talking points: updates from CEOs, connections to high-level players and the kind of instrumental money that danced in the subtext of every conversation.
Because even for them, a party wasn’t just a night to have fun, but a strategic gathering for business.
Aidan wears a measured smile. I’ve seen it before since it’s the one that he pulls out for these special occasions that shows with one single look, I’llagree with anything you say.
A glow is radiating off my pendant as soon as Aidan walks off into the distance. I drift to a lonely tabletop in the corner, knowing Skye must be close by.
Unconsciously, trying to find those green eyes again.
Chapter nineteen
Audrey Rayburn
I’ve always been drawn to the background players in this industry. The ones quietly doing the real work in Hollywood.
As a planner, my mind is always spinning. Crafting the idea, managing the concept, orchestrating everything from start to finish.
I never imagined orchestrating my own love life. Aidan is far into the distance, talking with someone with a fancy title and Holden is somewhere in the crowd, watching me from afar.
