Page 50 of When Glitter Meets Gold

Amber sits bolt upright, like a sparkly corpse shot with electricity. Her arm wedges between Francis and I as she points at a large cluster of bodies gathered beside an eight-foot statue of Aphrodite. I take one step forward to confirm that the man she’s pointing at is Jack.

“No, Sara.” Another voice comes from over my shoulder. Drew steps in beside me. “Thatis J Vandenberg.”

I barely have time to collect my jaw from the floor before an almighty shriek comes from over my shoulder.

I twist and watch in horror as Amber begins to tumble off her stool.

“Timber!”declares a nearby drunk.

“Amber!” I curse as her legs splay above her body, producing a perfectV.Several gasps echofrom all sides as her siren-red underwear flashes like a red flag signaling danger.

There’s nothing anyone can do, apart from wait for the almighty crash that follows her tragic departure from the stool…

21

JACK ‘J’

Jhad finally made his way to Magdalena Nicolo. She’s an esteemed journalist in her sixties from a well respected newspaper most people would trade an organ in exchange for a good review from. J tempted her with a small fortune to remain at the bar for the night so she’d be able to experience all the riches Midas had to offer.

By eleven, she’d already made a couple of vague comments to suggest her approval. And now she’s talking about the beauty of the statues and how much they remind her of her late grandparents’ art collection. “Romantically nostalgic”is the phrase she uses.

J’s signature smirk makes an appearance at the prospect of seeing those words crop up in her review. He’s already mentally picking out the frame he’ll immortalize the article in.

However, his dream bubble of making the headlines is violently ruptured by piercing cries followed by a thump with gonglike qualities. Everyone in the vicinity halts their conversations to gawk at several frenzied bodies scramblingto peel a woman from the floor, before finally hoisting her back to her feet.

A muscle in J’s jaw tightens as he watches her waddle like a newborn foal. Staggering, and pawing at the bar with clumsy outstretched fingers. A man with a solid build supports her waist until she’s able to steady herself. She twists on the spot, emerging victoriously like she’d struck the final blow to a dangling piñata. She takes a bow, lapping up the cheers from several onlookers—as well as flipping off those who sneer at her—all while a photographer documents the entire charade.

Magdalena turns to J, a look of concern followed by intrigue sweeps across her dark features as she waits to see how he’ll handle the outburst.

“Excuse me, Magdalena. I need to check if everyone’s alright.” The muscle in his jaw practically vibrates as he grinds his teeth. Carefully straightening his tie, he heads for the upsurge of bodies surrounding the girl.

With the knowledge that his every move is being scrutinized, he forces a neutral expression as he cuts a path through the crowd and continues to move toward the scene.

To his relief, by the time he reaches her, most people have turned their backs and are distracted by waiters who are carrying trays of champagne flutes topped with golden tufts of cotton candy.

When he discovers that she’s accompanied by none other than Sara and that guy she was with earlier—the one who was apparently in her hotel room in Maine—he can’t help but crank his neck to the side while taking a long-drawn breath.

“I hope no one was hurt?” J grits out. “Perhaps we can get her some water?” He signals to the bartender who’s already working on the task.

“She’s fine,” Sara replies, a sheepish grin on her face. “She just had a little too much. Sorry, I hope we didn’t cause a scene.”

A scene.J’s eyes darken. A scene is no doubt exactly what they intended to cause. For what, an insurance claim? Publicity? Kandi’s sure to be close by, orchestrating the whole thing.

“I’ll go get her a cab.” The guy from earlier, the one with the flashy dentistry and muscular stature calls whilst hooking an arm around the drunk girl and guiding her away. He’s closely followed by another shorter guy in the most luminous green suit he’s ever seen.

Which leaves just him and Sara. She’s looking up at him, wide eyes blinking an apology.

“Time to drop the act,” J growls at Sara. “I know what you’re doing.”

Sara shakes her head. “What act? I really am sorry. Why is this such a big deal, Jack?”

“Don’t call me that.” Frustration rises in his voice. “You don’t get to use that name anymore. In fact, you and yourfriendsneed to leave.”

“What?” Fresh confusion spills onto her features.

“I mean it Sara,” he says firmly, his voice raised. “You’re trouble. Take it somewhere else.”

She blinks, visibly startled by the order. She opens her mouth to say something but stops herself. Her eyes dip to the floor, then back to J one final time before she’s creating distance between them and disappearing into the crowd.

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