Page 106 of From West, With Regret

I haven’t told West that the number has continued to call me. At first, it was just a few times a week. After the car followed us from Emily’s private gallery showing, the calls stopped.

I didn’t think much of it after they stopped and decided to not let it take space in my head. The caller never leaves a voicemail, and they don’t do anything other than let it ring until they decide to hang up. I shut my phone screen off, and West is immediately pulling me into his side when I reach him, dissolving the icy chill at the back of my neck.

He gives me a warm kiss. “Enjoying your night?” he asks, bringing his mouth to my ear. His lips graze my earrings.

I shiver, heat pooling between my thighs. I clear my throat and pull away. “This is just as much your night as it is mine. Without you and this bar, my pieces wouldn’t have a place to hang.”

“She has a point, West,” Selene chimes in.

“I agree,” Emily says, admiring the walls. “Your work is just as exceptional as I thought it would be.” Her silver dress shimmers under the bright lights of the bar. She’s different than the first time we met. I guess Emily adapts to fit into every situation she’s in.

The man beside my sister catches my attention.

“Hi,” I say to the man with Selene. “I’m London, Selene’s sister.”

“Adam,” the man says, giving me a small smile. “It’s nice tofinally meet you. Selene has told me so much about you. Congratulations on your gallery.” His eyes shift to West. “To you as well.”

“Thank you,” we both say in unison.

“Adam is one of the editors for the New York Times,” Selene adds, but her smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

I tilt my head, unsure why it doesn’t sit well with me.

“No shit,” West blurts out, his mouth pulling into a smile under his short beard. He’s growing it out again, and I can’t say I’m disappointed.

“Yeah.” Adam laughs.

“Excuse me?” A shout from the other side of the bar causes the four of us to snap our heads up. “Are you seriously trying to charge me for a drink? Do you even know who I am?” the woman shouts again from the area of the bar.

The room is packed wall-to-wall with guests, making it nearly impossible to see more than several feet ahead of me. I roll onto the balls of my feet, trying to get a better view of the person shouting. The voice sounds familiar, and when I catch sight of her brown hair, I know exactly who it is.

I fall back onto my heels, feeling like a heavy bag of sand is sinking into the pit of my stomach.

“Your mom is here,” I tell West.

He lifts his chin, looking over the heads of the guests.

“Would you excuse us?” he says to Emily, Selene, and Adam.

His hand is already wrapped around mine, pulling me through the crowd and toward the bar.

When we reach his mom, she immediately turns around, spotting us.

Her hair is swept up into a French twist, bits of her brown hair framing her face. She’s still just as pretty as the last time Isaw her at Heath’s funeral, but the light in her eyes is gone. She only looks at me with indignation now.

Her eyes narrow with scrutiny before she’s looking up at West.

“Congratulations, son,” she clips. “Why are you charging for drinks tonight? This is a charity event.”

“I didn’t think you were coming,” he says quietly, ignoring her question.

She casually shrugs a shoulder and looks around. “Of course, I would.” Then she lifts her eyes to his. “I’ve always celebrated my children’s successes. Why would tonight be any different?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” West says, clenching his jaw. “Maybe because the last time we saw each other you accused me of stealing money from an account I didn’t even know existed.”

His hand tightens around mine, and I wrap my free hand over his, steadying him.

Glenna’s eyes fall to our joined hands. She has yet to look at me again.

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