Page 83 of Toxic Kiss

A nervous flutter takes flight in my chest as my stomach flips. I try to quell it, but what I really need is a cold shower and to spend the rest of my life on the other side of the planet.

We walk through the doors, and it is as if we are transported to a different world. This is the kind of place that doesn’t just whisper wealth, it screams it in gold accents and quiet exclusivity. Crystal chandeliers dangle like frozen fireworks from vaulted ceilings, casting a soft glow over white linen tables. The cutlery is so polished it gleams. Velvet upholstery covers chairs in midnight blue and hugs the room in rich curves. Soft jazz floats from a grand piano. Every scent, from truffle oil to aged burgundy, clings to the air like perfume.

My father loves to dine in places like this, while I avoid them at all costs.

Cy walks beside me, his hand resting on my lower back. We draw stares from everyone that we pass. Correction, they are staring at Cyrus Vale, rockstar. They don’t care who I am.

I glance at him, silently telling him to back off. But he ignores me even though I know he can see me. Turning a corner, we walk into a more private area with only a few tables. The maître d’ seats us at a table bathed in soft candlelight. It feels warm and welcoming, romantic even, save for the Ice Queen sitting there.

“I’ll be right back,” Dad says and heads to the bar.

I don’t blame him for needing a drink. He is married to Anita after all.

Cyrus pulls out my chair, and I stare at him as if he’s been hit over the head. What the hell has gotten into him?

Once I sit, he parks himself beside me, smirk firmly in place. This dinner feels more like a game of Risk rather than a business meeting. It is a war of glances and comments that are meant to spur me into a fight.

Anita gives me a tight smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Well, that’s a…daring dress, Haven,” she says, the condescension bleeding through with every word. “It’s very social media manager meets reality television desperation. I suppose bold choices suit you best.”

“Mother, if you’re going to start this again, Haven and I are leaving,” Cy says, and my mouth drops open.

“What? I am paying Haven a compliment,” she says.

I place my hand on Cy’s to keep him from jumping in, and Anita’s lips press so tightly together that you can’t see them anymore.

“Thank you, Anita,” I say, smiling sweetly. “I almost wore pearls and judgment, but then I remembered that’s your style and I didn’t want to copy you.”

Cyrus snickers, and Anita shoots him a glare.

She hasn’t changed a bit. It was so frustrating growing up and feeling like no one saw how she gaslit me and manipulated every situation. It was insanity for me, and no one noticed or cared.

“Ah, there’s that wit. A little rough around the edges, but earnest. I do admire how comfortable you have become in the job and how quickly Cyrus seems at ease with you. Even considering your questionable history. And I do think it is sweet that you care so much about his career that you’re willing to play up the tragic love triangle angle.” She chuckles.

Cyrus tenses beside me.

“What is she talking about?”

“I was going to tell you, but I haven’t had a chance. Apparently, the video of you collapsing and me running onto the stage to get to you has gone viral. My father wants us to play it up for the cameras. The whole star-crossed lover trope.”

Cy’s face screws up, and I’m sure it is the same look that I gave my father yesterday.

“And you’re okay with this?”

I shrug. “I’m not happy about it, but I can see the merit. Sales are up again today. You have three songs in the top ten.”

“I don’t care about that. I want to know how you feel,” he asks.

I swallow, but just then my father returns with a bottle of expensive scotch. I glare at him as he sets it near Cy, but Cy doesn’t take his eyes off my face.

“We’ll talk about it later,” I say, as the waiter approaches.

He hands out the menus, and I’m thankful to have something else to focus on, even for a short time. Anything other than the ballet of insults around the minefield is preferable.

The waiter keeps his attention on me as he lingers by my side to give the specials. He is handsome with warm chocolate eyes, and I blush when he smiles at me. Cyrus shifts closer, his shoulder brushing mine as if reminding me he is beside me.

Please…like I need reminding. He is impossible to forget. I’ve tried and failed every day for five years, and he’s still in my bloodstream.