Chapter 96
ERICA
1 smiled, nodding to whatever the woman in front of me was saying, though my mind had long since wandered
and of course, we had to re–do the whole lobby because the client just decided they wanted a warmer aesthetic, whatever that is,” Mrs. Kensington huffed dramatically, sipping from her flute of champagne. “Seriously, I told my husband if one more client has a last–minute meltdown, I’ll become
painter instead. At least the canvas doesn’t give back lip
I smiled politely, although my focus had already shifted to the next group of people waiting to greet
That was the thing with Aiden’s parties–everyone needed a moment, a word, a little recognition. A half of them didn’t even really care apart from the fact that I worked for him. I was a stepping stone, an introduction to the man himself.
who I was
Which was okay. I’d learned ages ago how to move through these kinds of circles. Smile. Nod, Talk enough that you don’t get left behind.
Such as now
That does sound infuriating. I said sympathetically. “But I guess the end product had to have been lovely. Aiden said the Kensington project turned out really well,”
Mrs. Kensington primped obviously delighted by the reference. “Oh, Aiden’s much too nice, she rhapsodized, but she wasn’t exactly denying it either. “But that’s neither here nor there! You have to tell me who is this winsome young man you came with!”
My smile didn’t even waver. “A friend.” I replied lightly.
Mrs. Kensington’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. “A good–looking one at that. And politely dressed. Your father must be over the moon.
Ah, there it was. The sneaky jab, the reminder that I had always been supposed to marry well and yet had not done so at all.
I maintained my smile. “My father and I don’t precisely see eye to eye on my personal life,” I replied slickly. “But I’m glad you were impressed with the suit on my friend. I’ll be happy to pass the compliment along
Mrs. Kensington blinked at my wry reply, then laughed in surprise. “Oh, you are quick, dear. Just like your mother.”
I smiled politely, avoiding the knot in my stomach. I didn’t want to think about my mother today. Or ever.
With a few more polite words, I made my escape and floated over to another group of guests. This time, a group of three executives engrossed in
discussion
I’m telling you, the market is evolving” a graying man of considerable height was saying, shaking his head. The demand for high–tech residential space is outstripping commercial architecture. If we don’t shuft now-
“Ah, but you forget,” the second man, a younger sharp–eyed man, broke in. The commercial market is still where the real money is. Diversifying into residential might be agamble.”
I slipped into the conversation with case, chipping in my two cents when necessary, making them believe I cared more than I did.
And yet, all the while, my mind wandered.
Particularly, to him.
Cillian
I hadn’t intended to seek him out, but my eyes had flashed in his direction more than once this evening. He was difficult to avoid–tall, broad, unapologetically commanding And that accursed glare
On my dair
I didn’t know what to do with i
I knew Cillian didn’t get along with me. We argued all the time, snapping at one another over nothing. He thought I was annoying I thought he was insufferable. That was the basis of our dynamic, and it had worked just fine
But then I showed up at the party, and he had looked at my date like he wanted to strangle him with his own he
Why
Chapter 96
I made no sense,
Cillian didn’ă care who I dated. He wasn’t even supposed to be here tonight. He had gone out of his way to say he wouldn’t come.
And yet, there he was
And I was still thinking about him.
Frustrated, I excused myself from the group and made my way toward the bar. I needed a drink. Something strong
I settled onto a stool and signaled the bartender. “Whiskey, neat
The bartender lifted an eyebrow. Long night“:
I gave a dry laugh “Something like that.”
I stood there brooding again–this time on my date.
He wasn’t bad
Honestly, that was the best I could say about him. Not bad.
Nice. Handsome in a clean–cut, unremarkable way. He could carry on a conversation, and he dressed well in a suit.
But that was all.
There wasn’t a spark, a thrill, anything that made me edge in closer rather than counting down the minutes until I could excusably get up and leave.
1 had known it within the first ten minutes of driving here.
And I had verified it the second I saw Cillian’s glare across the room and felt… something.
Not excitement, necessarily. But something.
And that something disturbed me. It horrified me. The knowledge that seconds of his harsh scrutiny sent sparks of nervous energy up my spine while an entire evening with a decent guy didn’t was not a happy one. I was probably broken.
I took my drink and sipped it slowly, feeling the burn settle me.
I needed to snap out of this. I wasn’t supposed to be thinking about Cillian. He was obnoxious, arrogant, and infuriatingly snubborn.
But also infuriatingly, annoyingly–irrefutable.
And perhaps just perhaps that was the issue.
