Page 114 of Frosted Fakes

Gabby was holding court at a table near the front, surrounded by her usual entourage. There was a new face among them: a man who looked like he'd stepped out of a cologne advertisement, all cheekbones and brooding intensity. Raul was her mother’s new beau, and, Julia had to admit, he was very handsome. He was also, unpredictably, very funny and the few times she’d met him, she’d found that she enjoyed his company. So that was a thing.

Gabby, of course, was staring directly at Julia with an expression that could curdle cream.

Julia sighed. She’d known her mother would be here, after all, Gabby was nominated for the same award that Elliott was. Her mother had asked her to sit at the table at the front, and been offended when Julia had said no. But what Julia hadn't expected was how little it bothered her.

A year or two ago, she would have felt guilty. Would have wondered if she should go over, smooth things over, apologize for the slight. Now she just felt… tired of it. And a little sad that her mother couldn’t appreciate that Julia had to be by Elliott’s side.

Jamie stood up. "Getting a drink. Anyone want anything?"

A chorus of requests followed him to the bar. Julia watched him go, then watched with interest as Gabby intercepted him halfway there.

The conversation was brief. Gabby gestured toward Raul. Jamie's eyebrows climbed toward his hairline. He nodded, patted Gabby's arm, and escaped to the bar.

When he returned, he was shaking his head.

"What was that about?" Shay asked.

"Apparently I shouldn't be jealous of Raul." Jamie set down the drinks. "She hopes there are no hard feelings about how things ended between us."

"How things ended?" Elliott repeated flatly. "You mean when you dumped her."

"In Gabby's version, I believe she let me down gently." Jamie shrugged. "I decided not to argue. Life's too short."

Julia snorted. Across the room, she caught her mother's glare again.

Old Julia would have looked away.

New Julia raised her glass.

Not just because she wanted to make a point. She hoped that her mum and Raul would last. For once, Gabby seemed to have found someone who courted just as much attention as she did, someone who stood up to her. An equal, perhaps.

The lights flickered once, twice. A hush fell over the room.

"Ladies and gentlemen," a voice announced, "please take your seats. The ceremony is about to begin."

Elliott's hand found Julia's under the table and squeezed.

Here we go, Julia thought.

THE CEREMONY WAS, Julia had to admit, slightly boring.

Not that she'd ever say so out loud. Elliott was nominated. Elliott's book was up for Best Cookbook of the Year. Julia would sit through a million hours of publishing industry speeches if that's what it took.

But there were a lot of speeches.

She was halfway through mentally reorganizing her revision schedule for her nursing finals when she heard it. A sharp intake of breath. A chair scraping back. The particular quality of silence that meant something had gone wrong.

Julia's head snapped toward the sound.

At Gabby's table, a young woman, early twenties, dark hair, the slightly hunted look of someone who worked for a demanding boss, had gone pale. Her breathing was rapid and shallow. Her hands were gripping the edge of the table like it was the only thing keeping her upright.

Panic attack. Classic presentation.

Gabby was already on her feet, fluttering around the girl like a distressed butterfly. "Bridget, darling, just breathe. You need to breathe. Why aren't you breathing? Someone get her some water. Bridget, look at me, you're making a scene…"

Julia was moving before she'd consciously decided to.

She crossed the room in seconds, weaving between tables, ignoring the curious glances. Bridget, her mother’s new PA, apparently, was hyperventilating now, tears streaming down her face, and Gabby's hovering was making everything worse.