My pulse races with the way she looks at me. As if saying the wrong answer now will stay with her forever. I’m weak in this moment. Weak for her and the thought of her walking away.
“I’ll be there when you answer, and whatever you tell them is what I’ll say.”
“What if I tell them that we’re together. That we’re … an item?”
“Like I said, whatever you tell them, I’ll agree with.”
* * *
The host,a socialite in the elite circles Kelly entertains, lives at another ritzy house a twenty-minute drive away. Not quite as expansive as Ella’s home, but it’s up there.
And it’s crawling with guests. Expensive cars are parked along the half-circle drive. Music pours out into the front gardens. Chatter is heard from the house and even those gallivanting in the yard. It’s a sight to behold. The sheer luxury and expense of the evening doesn’t hide behind a curtain. It creates a spotlight for itself.
We haven’t been out of the car thirty seconds when my phone buzzes for the first time.
Damon’s name is displayed on the screen. I don’t have time to check it this second. I need to be aware of what's going on around us and aware of how Ella’s behaving. And at this very second, she’s ahead of me, in the chaos of the crowd. The sky is pitch black and with everyone around her blurring, she peeks over her shoulder, eyeing me with a happiness I haven’t seen from her. One that lights up everything around her.
The phone buzzes again a second later.
Cade.
“Z,” she calls out, turning around but not stopping her stride. As she twirls back around, she reaches out for me to take her hand. Hers slips into mine and my phone slips in my back pocket. Let us at least get settled. There’s nothing to report just yet.
“How are you?” I check with her as she squeezes my hand.
“Excited,” she confesses with a beautiful smile, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “You?”
“I’m happy you’re happy.”
There’s a photo op at the front entrance and Ella poses without me, then pulls me in behind her for a shot. A photographer calls out, “Who’s the gentleman?” She ignores the question, choosing to wink at him instead.
“Cheeky girl,” I tease when she takes my hand again. She’s delighted, mischievous and it’s a thrilling sight.
As soon as we’ve relinquished our coats at the door check, a clutch of women I don’t recognize descend on Ella, greeting her with shrieks and hugs and so much touching that I angle myself closer to her to give her some breathing room. Her face is lit up with exhilaration, color in her cheeks and a glint in her eyes.
She glances at me. I put my hand on the small of her back and lean down to speak into her ear. “If this is too much, give the signal.” Three fingers directly over her lips, the tip of her middle finger resting on the tip of her nose, means I’ll immediately intervene.
“I know,” she whispers and takes a step ahead of me. I stay back, letting her readjust to something that I’m sure has been familiar all her life. It’s almost as if she’s the client once again. I’m here to protect her, to shield her. I’m here to offer her comfort if she needs it.
And judging by the sweet laugh that she utters from her lips, she doesn’t need me. Not in this moment.
As she looks up at me from under her lashes, my phone buzzes again.
There are more people than I expected. I try to refocus to keep an eye on all of them in relation to Ella.
Another message. I glance down at my phone and see both Cade and Damon are checking in. There’s no emergency, nothing to cause alarm.
I text them back, everything going as planned.
A light touch on my arm draws my attention. It’s Ella, her dark eyes searching my face. “Can we go somewhere and talk?” Something’s off.
“Of course.” My answer is irrelevant. Ella’s attention is quickly drawn away.
“Ella!”
Trish pushes her way through the crowd to get to Ella’s side and wraps her up in a giddy hug. “People are waiting for you. Come on, let’s go.”
“Who’s here?” Ella asks.