Page 97 of Trust Fund Baby

“Doesn’t want to be named,” Roxie repeated, as if she were putting the pieces together, and now her words were aimed directly at me.

The air between us stretched taut, a wire pulled to its breaking point.

I forced my grip to loosen on the champagne flute I still had done nothing with and forced my voice to stay steady. “Maybe he doesn’t want to be the story,” I said evenly, holding her gaze. “Maybe he wants the focus to stay on the people the food bank and restaurant serve.”

Roxie’s chin lifted a fraction, her eyes narrowing. That was always her superpower with me—seeing the cracks in the armor, even when no one else could. I might have been standing there in my tuxedo, every inch the Whittaker heir, but she looked at me like she knew exactly who was underneath, the new version of myself.

Hallie cleared her throat softly, trying to ease the pressure. “Rox, why don’t I show you the donor wall before the speeches start? You’ll want to get a shot of it. I think it’s my best work.”

But Roxie didn’t move right away. Her gaze lingered on me, sharp and unflinching, before she finally shifted back to Hallie. “Sure,” she said smoothly.

As she let Hallie guide her away, her camera swinging, I caught one last glimpse of her expression. It wasn’t indifference anymore. It was curiosity. And somehow that might have been the most exciting part of the entire night so far.

37

Roxie

The flash of my camera caught the edge of the brass nameplate, its engraved letters gleaming beneath the chandelier’s glow. I adjusted the lens and took another shot, trying to focus on composition instead of the knot in my stomach.

My mind had been a mess since the moment I laid eyes on Sebastian tonight. Part of me had wondered what it would be like when I saw him again. Especially after I read every email he’d sent me over the past six months. Even though he’d thought I wasn’t getting his messages, they were a testament to the effort he had put in to be better, to change, and tonight felt like the perfect encapsulation of who he’d become.

Over the past week, I had gone through what felt like every emotion as I tried to rearrange my understanding of who Sebastian was and to work out whether the growth I was seeing was enough.

The donor wall stretched the length of the ballroom. Polished plaques were mounted against deep walnut panels. Each one honored the families and corporations who had contributed to the East Side Food Bank. Through my viewfinder, the names blurred together. Only one burned sharp—the Whittaker name, centered at the top.

“Looks good,” Hallie said, crouching next to me with her little point-and-shoot. Her deep-burgundy dress draped over her, a perfect fit that showcased her figure, and I was fairly certain James hadn’t stopped staring at her all night.

I snapped another picture. “Funny how you volunteered me for this job. Come to think of it, you were the one that suggested we cover the food bank.”

Hallie’s lips curved into a guilty smile. “Well, I knew it was a story that we’d want to cover, so I made an executive decision.”

I lowered the camera, narrowing my eyes at her. “An executive decision, huh? That wouldn’t have anything to do with Sebastian being behind all of this, would it?”

Her smile only widened, smug as ever. “Payback’s a bitch, isn’t it?” She winked at me, reminding me of the night I’d schemed with Sebastian to shove her and James back together at Whiskey Locker.

I groaned, shoving playfully at her shoulder. “Hallie Woods, you are unbelievable.”

“And you love me for it,” she shot back, rising to her feet and smoothing her dress. Then her grin softened as her gaze drifted across the ballroom to where James and Sebastian stood with a cluster of finance men. “Besides, you and Sebastian needed to be in the same room again. You’ve both been impossible—him pestering James about you, you dropping his name every chance you get without even realizing it. James and I decided we needed to simply cut out the middleman.”

I scoffed, but my racing pulse gave me away when I thought about the instant I saw him. The tuxedo, gleaming cufflinks, and the way his gaze met mine as if no time had elapsed.

“I’m not sure I know him anymore,” I murmured, more to myself than to her.

The man I remembered wouldn’t have involved himself in anything like this. Despite his good heart, Sebastian had always been more interested in the next party, the next drink. But the man standing across the ballroom, stealing glances at me, seemed like someone else entirely. Someone that had worked on himself. Maybe even someone that had truly changed.

Hallie’s voice gentled. “Maybe you should try, Rox,” Hallie said gently. “He hasn’t had a drop of alcohol in over six months. This food bank? It was his idea start to finish. He pitched it to his dad, fought for it, and then gave everything he had to make it real. He’s already planning other projects, too. He’s making Whittaker Holdings into a company that is no longer just about profits, but also about a purpose.”

“He does seem … different,” I admitted. Different. The word tasted almost dangerous, like something that could tip me over a cliff if I wasn’t careful. It almost tasted like hope.

“All I’m saying is, don’t walk away before you’ve even given him a chance to show you who he is now,” Hallie urged.

I wanted to argue. To insist I wasn’t interested. But my throat caught around the words, and all I could do was nod faintly.

Once I finished taking pictures of the donor wall and Hallie had gone back to James, I slowly drifted through the crowd. Or maybe I was being pulled.

Somehow, I found myself only a few feet away from Sebastian by the balcony doors, which was the same spot I had noticed him earlier. The golden light from the chandelier danced across his tall frame, drawing my gaze with every turn of my head. For once, he didn’t project the image of the carefree heir to Whittaker Holdings, unburdened by the troubles of the world. With earnest eyes, he watched the crowd, the names being added to the donor wall, and the interactions, as people pledged to his foundation for the food bank.

The moment his eyes lifted and landed on me, the soft murmur of the ballroom quieted, as if everyone held their breath.