He stares at me for a moment. I notice the subtlest hint of his shoulders dropping at the loss of contact. Or perhaps I simply imagine it, my desperation for him to feel this growing connection between us forcing me to see things that aren’t real. Then he fixes his expression, that flirtatious smirk I remember from the first time I saw him crossing his mouth.
“I suppose that would be a bad thing.” He holds his elbow out for me to place my arm through. “Come on, Princess. Time to get you to the ball.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
During my first month at the magazine, Viv insisted I attend the opening of an art installation at an eclectic little gallery in SoHo. It was the most upscale event I’d ever attended. Waitstaff in tails and gloves. Men in beautiful suits. Women in gorgeous gowns. And Champagne flowing like it grew on trees, which I suppose one could argue it does, since grapes are grown on vines and Champagne comes from grapes.
Nevertheless, that gallery opening was mere child’s play compared to the posh and glamour of the annual Red, White, and Blue Gala. Anyone who’s anyone is here. And if you don’t get an invitation, you’re not someone worth knowing.
Which is why my already antsy nerves are even more so, considering the importance of tonight, especially for Julian. As the newcomer to this elite group, all eyes will be on me. Because of that, I need to do everything in my power not to embarrass him. As long as there’s not a pool nearby, I think I’ll be okay.
The gentle sounds of a jazz band fill the air as Julian leads me through the foyer of a magnificent home situated on the beach. I expected this to take place at a function hall, but I’ve once again been proven wrong. Why rent a hall when you can show off the grandeur of your home in front of several hundred of your closest friends? That’s all life in the Hamptons seems to be. One giant competition. And this place is the crown jewel. It’s like a mansion straight from the Gilded Age. Lush tapestries. Grand staircases. Painted ceilings. Now I really do feel like Cinderella.
We follow the flow of guests, smiling polite hellos every few feet before emerging into a large ball room. Waitstaff are in abundance, circling the room, carrying trays of Champagne and hors d’oeuvres. I tilt my head back, admiring the intricate detailing on the ceiling.
“It’s like the Hall of Mirrors in Versailles.”
“La Gallérie des Glaces,” Julian says in the perfect French accent. “You’ve been?”
I look back to him, laughing slightly. “No. I’ve never been out of the country. But I’ve always dreamed of visiting Europe, particularly Paris.”
“You’ve never traveled abroad?” He sounds genuinely surprised by this fact. I suppose in his circles, it’s an odd occurrence.
“Can’t say as I have.”
“You were with Trevor for twelve years and he never took you?”
I open my mouth to defend him, but Julian interrupts me before I can utter a word.
“You can’t tell me he didn’t have the money, because I know what that firm pays their attorneys. He could have afforded it.”
My eyes shift nervously around the room. Have I really been so blind as to overlook so many of Trevor’s shortcomings? “We’ve both been so busy,” I respond, but my words lack any conviction.
“You need to go to Paris. Everyone should experience the city once in their lives. There’s nothing like it anywhere else in the world.” The more he speaks, the more excited he becomes. There’s a boyish gleam in his eyes as his obvious adoration for the City of Lights shines through. “When the summer is over, I’ll take—”
I quickly hold up my hand. “Don’t.”
He scrunches his forehead, perplexed by my sudden change in demeanor. “But—”
“No.” I lean toward him, my voice nothing more than a low whisper. “I can pretend to be your girlfriend all summer. I’ve agreed to that much. But I won’t do the fantasy game with you. I won’t have you making me promises you have no intention of fulfilling.”
“Who said I have no intention of following through?”
“Me. That’s who. You’re so accustomed to being able to just hop on a chartered jet and fly off to Paris for lunch. That’s not my reality. That will never be my reality. It’s already difficult to remain grounded when I’m surrounded by all this.” I wave my hand around. “I don’t need you making this any harder than it has to be.”
I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, fighting against the lump in my throat. I wish I hadn’t revealed this vulnerability to him, but this is challenging enough. The more I remind myself that this is nothing more than a fantasy, the easier it will be when the dream ends.
“Guinevere, I…” He shakes his head, running a light finger down the curve of my face before cupping my cheeks in his hands. He rests his forehead against mine. It’s such a tender moment, one I wish were real. “I’m sorry. I guess I got swept up in the moment. I didn’t realize…”
“It’s okay. But I feel like some lines have been crossed that I may not have originally anticipated. Don’t get me wrong,” I add quickly. “The past few days have been great. Better than great. And you’ve been…great.” I laugh. “Better than great.” My eyes turn back to his, serious again. “And that’s why I don’t want to blur the lines anymore. It will only set ourselves up for failure. At least me. Because, at the end of the summer, you’ll walk away without a single look back, and I’ll still be picking up the pieces of a life I don’t even recognize right now. Years down the road, we’ll both remember this summer and smile. You from your palace overlooking Central Park, and me from whatever apartment I can afford, which will probably be somewhere in New Rochelle. Hell, one day, maybe I’ll be able to tell my kids about the summer I experienced a real-life fairy tale. But that’s all this is. Just a fairy tale. Not real life.”
He opens his mouth, his expression pensive as he gazes at me. I can almost sense him wanting to tell me I’m wrong, that the fairy tale can be real. That this doesn’t have to end after the summer. Instead, he blows out a long breath, nodding.
“I can respect that. I know what it’s like to be surrounded by constant disappointment. I won’t lead you on. No more fantasies.”
“No more fantasies,” I repeat, a pang in my heart at the idea.
“No more fantasies,” he says once more, then pulls back, smiling a small smile. We return our attention to the party, everyone oblivious to our emotional exchange. Resuming the roles we’re here to play, he links his hand with mine. When a waiter carrying a tray of Champagne passes, Julian swipes two flutes, handing me one.
“For the record…” He lifts his glass and I do the same. “I know you’ll soon meet someone who will give you the trip to Paris you deserve.” He sips the effervescent liquid, his eyes unwavering as they remain glued to mine.
“I hope so,” I murmur absent-mindedly.
“Evie!” an excited voice exclaims as I’m about to take a sip.
I search for its source, seeing Sadie and Christopher gliding toward us. That’s exactly what it looks like. As if Sadie is walking on air, everything about her poised and put-together. She looks as stunning as I expected she would, wearing a pale white silk gown that hugs her slender frame. Her brown hair is pulled into a bun at her nape, a few strands framing her face. And around her neck is a dazzling diamond necklace that must have cost a small fortune.
“Oh, my goodness…” Grabbing my hand, she spins me around almost in the same fashion as Julian did earlier. “You look incredible. This dress…” She shifts her attention to Julian. “Dana?”
“Who else?” he answers with a laugh.
“Who else indeed. She truly is the best. You’d better keep your eyes on this one tonight, especially around Ethan.” She laughs, indicating she’s simply making a joke, but Julian knows it’s not.
He shifts, wrapping an arm around my waist. For once, I’m certain it’s not just for show but his innate need to protect me. The fear streaming from his eyes when he saw Ethan around me last night was far too real to simply be an act.
“He has a thing for the ladies. That’s probably why Sonia left him.”