Page 79 of Well, Actually
“Ray, I’m sorry to interrupt, but there’s a small issue with the pastry chef,” a woman in a catering uniform says, materializing at his side. “We need you.”
Ray’s gaze whips between me and the staff member, and he lets out a groan of frustration. “Dammit. Okay, this conversation is not done,” he says, pointing at me as he walks backward toward the kitchen. “I need more information. In fact, you both are forbidden from speaking to each other until I’m back and we’re in a safe place with a cold bottle of pink wine because Irefuseto be the last to know the details.”
“Whatever you say.” I salute his frown.
“Tell me everything,” Aida demands as soon as his back is to us.
I giggle like a schoolgirl, trying to figure out the best way to condense all of these feelings for Rylie into something that makes sense. I open my mouth, but Aida’s face falls, her eyes going wide like a prey animal being cornered. “What’s wrong?”
“William,” Aida hisses.
“William?” There’s a tap on my shoulder, and I spin around, mind doing somersaults as I come face-to-face with my boss. “William,” I croak. “What are you doing here?”
He arches a thick, black brow at my less-than-couth greeting but otherwise doesn’t react, taking a moment to watch me squirm.
“Soundbites is a substantial donor to the organization,” he says as if this should be obvious. “Keeps the zillenials off our backs about less-savory channels of funding we have. It’s good to put a face forward at events like this. My mother is here too.” He takes a sip of blood-colored wine, then nods over the rim to an approaching Landry. He waits until she has joined us to ask, “And what areyoudoing here, Miss Kitt?” His tone makes it obvious he knows exactly what I’m doing here.
“I… I…”
“Our best friend is catering,” Aida supplies. “Ray Williams. This is his first big solo event, so we purchased tickets to support him. Isn’t the food wonderful?”
“Quite,” Landry says, pursing her lips as she looks at a passing tray of hors d’oeuvres. “A bit heavy for my liking, but I’m sure there’s an audience for every dish.”
I’m still too surprised by their presence to speak, and Aida swoops in to save me again. “Plus, mastermind Eva here thought it might be a good chance to pin Rylie down. He’s good friends with EI’s founder, Lilith Flores. Had her on his podcast recently.”
Aida subtly steps on my toes with her heels, and I straighten, nodding rapidly. “Yes. Exactly. Just trying to scope him out. So many people here.”
William makes a low sound before taking another sip of wine. “Isn’t that him approaching with two glasses of champagne?”
“My, my, what a choice of suit that is,” Landry murmurs, letting distaste play across her features.
My hackles raise, and I want to snap my jaws at her foreven hinting that he looks anything but handsome. I spin around, gut sinking as I clock Rylie approaching us. His smile is broad, a lasso right around my heart, and my body can’t decide if it wants to panic or swoon. Reading something in my expression, his grin sinks and eyebrows furrow. A second too late, he registers Landry and William over my shoulder, too close to make a beeline to safer ground.
I can see his mind working, trying to determine how to play this, what’s already been said. I give him a hopeless, desperate look that conveys my only thought:I think we’re fucked.
Rylie’s reached my side now, and I’m so attuned to his face—spent so many of my recent nights studying every flicker of muscle and emotion—that I don’t miss the protective edge to his posture, the lines of his dazzling smile poised to drop to a scowl, the quick way his silver eyes assess William like he’s sizing up an enemy general, ready to go to battle at a moment’s notice.
“Mr. Cooper,” Landry says, giving him a beatific smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “I see your profound digestive issues have subsided.”
“A medical miracle,” William mutters.
“Who doesn’t love an impromptu gut cleanse?” Rylie counters jovially. “It’s great to see you two again. Eva, Aida.” He nods at us. “You both look lovely this evening.”
William rolls his eyes, taking another sip of wine as we mumble our thanks. “Oh, good, we’re keeping up the ruse. Do you need a moment to compose a reason you’re over here? A good explanation for the extra drink?”
Rylie’s mouth firms into a straight line. “Didn’t think thesetwo should be without a drink when the wine is so good and the evening’s purpose is so worthy.” He hands us each a flute. Mine almost slips through my shaking fingers.
“Of course,” William says in a clipped voice. “Now’s the part where you try to convince me of your good reasons for violating your contract. Feel free to add yours too, Eva. Wouldn’t want to silence our bleeding-heart feminist risking her career for a C-level internet personality.”
“Stop it.” I’m startled to realize I’m the one who said that so loudly. It’s hard to hear much over the pounding of my heartbeat in my ears.
William gives me a look of mild surprise, cold eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”
“I… I…”
Holy shit. This is myboss. This is mycareer. I can’t be snapping at the man who holds my future in his palm, especially not when his mother, my other damn boss, is right there to witness.
I look wildly at Rylie, expecting his panic to match mine. But he’s calm, a soothing, steady force that tells me he’s not moving from my side no matter what I say next. He’s in this. And dammit, I’m in it too.
