VANESSA BELMONT
Fiona would always be his first choice. I'd learned the hard way that he would always prefer his white moonlight over me, a mere business-related relationship. I didn't need his words. His actions said enough.
"We have that charity auction on Friday, right?" I asked, forcing my voice to stay light.
"Yes. It's at the Echelon, but not in the same ballroom as our engagement dinner." He studied me, his expression as unreadable as ever. "Should I expect you and Oliver to create another disaster at my hotel?"
The Jangs owned the Echelon, which was something I hadn't considered before encouraging Ollie to behave badly. Guilt prickled at me, but I shoved it aside. Nathan didn't get to judge me—not when he was still wrapped around Fiona's finger.
"I'm sorry if the fire alarm prank caused you trouble," I said, not entirely meaning it.
"Are you?"
I pinched my fingers together. "A little bitty bit."
"Maybe I should punish you," he murmured, his voice dropping low. Before I could react, he pulled me flush against him. My breath hitched as he dipped his head, his lips millimeters away. My traitorous heart hammered against my ribs.
I'm so screwed.
Just as his mouth was about to brush mine—
His cell phone rang.
Reality crashed back in. What was I doing? Didn't I want Nathan to dump me and take the penalty for contract cancellation? I wanted freedom, right? Right!?
I pushed out of his arms, putting space between us before I did something stupid—like kiss him senseless. It's not fair, I railed at him silently. In my first life, he didn't give a damn about me. Why, in my second life, was he acting like he ... well, liked me?
Nathan glanced at the phone screen, his jaw tightening. He answered, his voice clipped. After a pause, he said, "Don't be afraid. I'm on my way." When he looked back at me, something like regret flickered in his dark gaze. "Vanessa..."
"See you at the auction." I gave him a careless wave and bolted from the kitchen before he could see the tears welling in my eyes. I hurried up the stairs and I retreated to the sanctuary of my bedroom. Henry was stretched out on my bed, his golden eyes half-closed. Oh to be a cat.
The moment the door shut behind me, I pressed my palms to my face, exhaling shakily.
I don't want him, I lied to myself. I really don't.
But the truth was worse.
I did want Nathan Jang.
I wanted him forever.
***|***|***|***|***
VANESSA BELMONT
The cocktail party preview for the charity auction was in full swing by the time I arrived. The Echelon's biggest and grandest ballroom, called the Infinity, glittered under crystal chandeliers. Guests mingled, champagne flutes in hand, their laughter blending with the soft strains of a string quartet.
"You've been staring at that sapphire and diamond necklace for a while," said a familiar male voice.
I looked up into the face of Carver Haynes, who'd been my very first crush in middle school. I never confessed, and even wrote him love letters that I never sent. But 14-year-old me didn't have the courage to tell Carver I liked him.
We stayed friends until high school graduation then drifted apart. I went to college and found a new crush (Nathan) and he went abroad to finish his education.
Carver was the heir to the Haynes Group, which was impressive, but not quite as impressive as the Jang Group. The only other Ash City family that outdid the Jangs was the Thorne Collective, the number-one ranked family in the area.
Carver had blond hair and blue, blue eyes, and a killer smile aimed right at my damned face. I melted a little because wowzer.
"I forgot how hot you are," I blurted.
His grin widened. "I didn't forget how hot you are, Neenie."
His gaze wandered over me, lingering on the cleavage of my dark red dress with its bell sleeves and flared, knee-length skirt. I wore diamond jewelry, and pinned up my hair. My makeup was dramatic with swoops of eye shadow, winged eyeliner, and diamond accents. I stuck with the red lipstick because I loved the color and, to be honest, I liked the way Nathan couldn't keep his eyes off my mouth.
And it turned out Carver liked my lipstick, too.
But here's the thing. I still liked Nathan Jang. Argh! Annoying! Flirting with Carver felt wrong, and that irritated me because damn it, wasn't I trying to break it off with Fiona's dog licker? That's right, Brother Nathan, I thought crossly, you're a dog licker.
Carver stepped closer. "You outshine those jewels." He nodded toward the necklace. "Do you want it?"
"I'm engaged to Nathan Jang. You buying me jewelry is not appropriate." I sipped the bubbly. "If I want it, I'll get it for myself."
He leaned down, his breath warm as he whispered in my ear, "Are you sure you want to marry Nathan Jang?"
"Are you offering another option?"
"Yes," said Carver. "Me."
"Oh, ha, ha."
"I'm serious, Neenie. It's not like you're in love with Nathan." Carver considered my expression, which I supposed showed my true feelings about my fiancé. "Ah. I suppose it's more like Nathan is not in love with you."
"We're a business marriage. Reciprocal feelings aren't part of the deal."
Carver extended his hand as if he wanted to touch my face. I stepped backwards, out of reach. He dropped his arm.
"My company's value matches his. And I ... I like you."
I wanted to hear those words when we were in middle school. Maybe things would've been different for me. "Carver, you liked fourteen-year-old me. Twenty-three-year-old me is a pain-in-the-ass."
"I happen to like that about you." Carver's gaze snagged mine and in those baby blues, I saw his yearning. For me? Me? The dumbass who got a pencil eraser stuck up her nose and had to go to the hospital for extraction. That's the girl he liked?
"I would treat you like the queen you are. I would be faithful, Vanessa. Because if I have you, why the hell would I want anyone else?"