“I know.”
“Why does Valerian care?”
“I don’t know. Maybe they’re fucking or something.”
“Or in love,” adds another.
“God, I hope not. Remember what happened last time?—”
Valerian drags me away before I can listen to the rest of their conversation.
“What was that?”
My vision disappears again. Safe to say the alcohol has officially made its way into my bloodstream.
All I can do is laugh.
Valerian clenches his jaw. Sticks his face in mine. “This isn’t funny, Joy.”
“Have a sense of humor. It is a little.”
“No.”
“It looks like I’m not the one you need to keep an eye on.” I look at him pointedly. “Congratulations. Now everyone is gossiping about us. Maybe even the camera crew will?—”
“The camera crew do what I pay them to do. I’ll make sure they don’t report this.”
“And how will you stop this information from getting out of the room?” I arch my eyebrow. “Pay for everyone’s silence? Like you paid your maid and butler?”
“Stop it.”
I tilt my head, trying to read his face. I’m good at reading faces, just like I’m good at reading books. But with Valerian, it’s different. He’s impossible to read. Which tells me he’s been protecting himself for years. Maybe even decades.
“Did you love her?”
Valerian works his throat, sighing. “What are you talking about?”
“You knowwhoI’m talking about. Igor’s mother.” I narrow my eyes. My vision is starting to straighten out. “You never told me much about her, other than that she died. That’s it? What happened?”
“We’re not having this conversation, Joy.” Valerian takes one long look at me and disappears back into the crowds.
Fuck him.
I swallow the lump in my throat. His inability to talk about her means there’s still something there.
He’s still carrying the grief around.
And I’m not about to get involved with another emotionally unavailable man.
I’ve been there and done that. Got the T-shirt. Whatever.
The alcohol does laps through my system. I hold onto the banister, keeping myself stable as the room starts to spin again.
But when I gather composure, I don’t feel better. There’s a pit in my stomach and it’s growing in size by the minute. I watch Valerian shake hands, interacting with his guests. He cracks smiles, nods, listens to every word.
He has charm. Charisma. He makes every single fucking person in this room feel special.
Including me. But none of it will ever be real.
