“Fucked,” I finished for him. “Totally, completely, irrevocablyfucked.”
“Accurate. But the point is, we’ll figure it out,” he said, his expression softening a little.
I hated that so much of this fell on his shoulders. It didn’t seem fair.
With that sense of dread and uncertainty hovering around us, we all left the conference room. My brothers went back to their executive suites. I went for a long walk.
Outside in the fresh Chicago air, all I wanted to do was call my best friend, my oldest friend. All I wanted was to talk to Ford, to tell him what was going on. He was more than just my friend…he was my hero. In all the years I’d known him, he’d always been the one other person (besides my brothers) that I could depend on. He’d always been there for me, and would go out of his way to come to the rescue and fix whatever problem I had. I trusted him completely.
But I couldn’t trust him with this.
Not just because Stefan had made us promise to keep it secret. But because I knew that this was one thing that Ford couldn’t fix. Maybe nobody could.
Emzee
Chapter 1
Thankfully, what Ford couldn’t fix, champagne could. At least temporarily.
I snagged a glass of bubbly off a passing tray, wishing that I could have stayed home and taken a nice bubble bath instead of getting dressed up to celebrate a woman who didn’t even tolerate me, let alone like me.
But I hadn’t come here for the birthday girl.
I had come for her son. For Ford.
As usual, the Malone family had gone all out for their matriarch’s birthday. Ford’s mother never saw an extravagance that she didn’t immediately want for herself, and this party was no exception. It was black tie, of course, and the waiters were all gorgeous young men, wearing bespoke tuxedoes and carrying around equally expensive glasses of booze.
Even though fancy shindigs like this weren’t really my style, I’d accepted the invitation hoping it would at least be fun. Beyond the endless flow of snazzy alcohol, these parties were legendary for how completely ridiculous they could get. The Malones knew everyone in Chicago—everyoneworth knowing, as they say—so when they wanted to celebrate, things had a tendency to get crazy. Plus, there were always good anecdotes in the making, like how last year’s soiree had ended in a million-dollar wager over a Connect Four game between the intoxicated CEOs of the city’s two biggest hospitals.
The paparazzi would be waiting outside in droves afterward, hoping to get a shot of some drunk socialite or a couple investment banker bros throwing fists on the sidewalk.
I could already tell tonight was going to be epic, and that was even if no one did anything outrageous. The dinner would be a sit-down affair, as nothing so vulgar as a “buffet” would be appropriate for one of the wealthiest families in Chicago, and no doubt we’d be served the priciest gourmet cuisine money could buy. Followed by, I prayed, equally prime desserts.
Along with the glasses of Dom, there were silver platters circulating, each one covered with tiny, perfect hors d’oeuvres. I passed on the escargots de Bourgogne (snails aren’t my fave, to be honest), but took full advantage of the latkes with caviar, brie en croute, and prosciutto-wrapped shrimp tartlets.
Like a glutton, I ate it all, down to the last crumb. I knew Ford’s mother probably wouldn’t touch a single morsel all night, and took perverse pleasure in knowing that she would probably hate the fact that I was enjoying her birthday food so much.
She didn’t want me there, judging by the way she was glaring from across the room. She’d never liked that Ford and I were friends. My family’s money was new, hers was old, and that was enough to make me trash in her eyes. On top of that, she was likely upset that Ford had brought me as his date tonight instead of his very, very longtime girlfriend, Claudia.
Or rather, his nowex-girlfriend.
I couldn’t say I was sad about the breakup. Even though Claudia and Ford had been together for years and their families had been pushing them to get married almost from day one, I’d never gotten along with Claudia. It was a feeling that was entirely mutual.
She didn’t like me because I was friends with Ford, and we had the kind of close friendship that someone like Claudia said was inappropriate between a man and woman. Not that she was jealous of me, or suspected any kind of infidelity. No, she made it perfectly clear that she didn’t consider me any kind of threat whatsoever…she just didn’t like that Ford spent so much time with me. That he and I shared more common interests than she and Ford did.
In my personal opinion, Claudia was a snobby, judgey bitch with no sense of humor.
Always had been.
I smoothed down my Givenchy gown. It was one of my favorite dresses, a sleek, form-fitting number with one long sleeve. The other sleeve was a simple strap that went across the bodice, then crisscrossed down the fabric in an edgy-artsy subtle design. And of course, my combat boots. Though the floor-length hem mostly covered them.
I also wore a gold bangle pushed up over my bare forearm and a pair of diamond briolette drop earrings that I’d had for years. Even still, I was probably the most modestly dressed woman in the room. The birthday girl, of course, was dripping in jewels, making sure to show every single one of her guests the chunky new diamond bracelet her husband had gifted her.
No doubt if Claudia had been in attendance, she would have been hanging all over Ford, dropping hints that she’d like a bracelet like that. Maybe even a ring to match. Wink, wink.
Ford and I hadn’t talked about it, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if that was one of the main reasons they broke up. I knew Claudia was intent on settling down, and had been especially pushy about them getting engaged ever since her best friend had gotten married last spring, but he’d been dragging his feet for a while.
When he told me they’d split, I’d practically jumped for joy. Then I’d felt guilty. Because the real reason I’d been happy that he’d kicked Claudia to the curb had nothing to do with the fact that Claudia didn’t like me or that Claudia was a sanctimonious mean girl.
