“That’s right,” I said. “Trying to steer things in the right direction.”
Hugo took a sip of champagne. “Rumor has it you might be facing a few challenges.”
Before I could respond, a sudden stir of movement across the crowded gallery drew my eye. A figure gleamed red, like a flame in the dark. For a second, I could have sworn it was Andrea. As if a girl like that would be wasting her time in this cloud of complacency and obscene wealth. She’d said she liked to paint, so that must be what had made me think of her. It was vaguely annoying that she was still rattling around in my head.
I checked myself and refocused on Hugo. “Yes. If the right people could be convinced of our direction and stability, it would certainly help.”
“Stability,” Hugo repeated, tilting his head. “A commodity we value highly in my field.” He gave me a measured look. “You’ve always had… spirit, Liam. It’s served you well at times. But after everything, one can’t help wondering if you’re ready to stay the course. People will want to be sure you’re steady—not just brilliant in flashes. And as you know, all change carries inherent risk for those supporting it.” He looked away, as if this was a conversation he’d rather end.
“Gentlemen, Miranda, I must excuse myself.” Dex nodded to the group. “I have a few more pieces to view tonight, and I have another event to get to.” He tapped me lightly on the shoulder, then disappeared into the throng. It was getting busier by the minute, the room louder and more crowded than it had been only ten minutes before. From the other side of the hall came raised voices—sharp, urgent, not the drunken kind. The sound prickled the back of my neck, though no one else seemed to notice. I refixed my attention on the minister.
“Hugo, I completely understand.” He was uncertain, that was clear. My tiny window of opportunity was closing in front of my eyes. “I think if we could perhaps set aside some time to discuss—”
Then, out of nowhere, I felt a sudden, sharp pain, as if I’d been struck by a piece of shrapnel.What thehell—
I looked down to see a gold three-inch heel impaling the soft leather of my shoe, and by default, my foot. The heel rose up into a shapely calf and fine-looking thigh encased in a red silk dress. Dark hair swung against bare shoulders. My assailant was focused on something across the room, where the shouting had come from—there was a blond woman clinging to her arm and looking in the same direction. They were giggling nervously, out of breath.
“One moment, Hugo,” I said, holding up a finger and trying not to grimace. I turned back to the lady in red. “I’m sorry, my foot seems to have got stuck under your heel. Do you think you could—”
The woman turned and looked down at my skewered toe before raising her eyes slowly until her gaze locked onto mine. Recognition was quickly replaced by a mix of shock and something I couldn’t quite place. She jumped backward.
“Andrea?”
Fuck. Itwasher.
The blonde tottered forward slightly, pushing Andrea toward me again. I caught her by both shoulders, fingers pressing into her warm skin. The group stepped back to give us space, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her. The woman in front of me was nothing like the corporate sales rep I’d last seen in the Novexia offices.
“Who’s your friend, Liam?” Ben nudged me in the ribs, but I barely heard him.
Andrea and I stared at each other, the tension between us a live wire humming through the room.
Out of nowhere, two security guards in black suits appeared behind her, comms wires curled behind their ears.
“Excuse me, miss.” The guard’s tone was cold, and my jaw tightened. He was already reaching for Andrea’s arm.
“This area’s for guests only. I’m going to have to ask you and your friend—”
He took half a step closer, but I was already there.
The guard’s arm hung in the air. I moved between them quickly, dropping a hand to the small of her back as if I’d done it a hundred times before. The heat through the silk was a jolt of hot energy.
“She’s with me,” I said, even enough to be mistaken for polite—except it wasn’t.
The guard’s eyes flicked to mine and faltered. Andrea was staring straight ahead, but I could feel her tense. I’d just lied for her—and we both knew it.
“Mr. Roth.” The guard stepped back, looking uncertain. “We were told they entered without credentials. There’s a call out—”
“Apparently, you have the wrong information,” I said. “These are my guests. We arrived… separately.”
No going backnow.
He hesitated. I looked him dead in the eye. “I said, she’s with me.”
He paused, then nodded. “Apologies, sir.”
They turned to each other, speaking into their headsets.What in God’s name had Andrea done?If they dragged her out now, it would be my name in the papers. My credibility on the line.
And still—my hand stayed exactly where it was, as if we’d practiced it.
