I secretly like it, but I can’t tell her that.
“Hell, yes, we’re hot.”
Wyatt’s waiting downstairs for us, dressed in a classic black tuxedo, and as soon as we reach him, we’re off, headed for the gala. At this time of night, traffic is light, so we quickly reach the hotel where the shindig is being held.
We’re helped out of the car, and once inside, I reach for a glass of champagne and look for our people.
“There’s our table,” Wyatt says, pointing to a round table where Levi and Jace are sitting, their heads together as they talk. “I’m going to join my brothers.”
“We’re going to mingle,” Lia says and takes my hand in hers. “Let’s find Joy and Starla. I bet they’re by the food.”
“I could use food.”
Sure enough, Joy and Starla are at the appetizer buffet, loading up tiny plates with canapes and crab cakes.
“I’m so happy you guys are here,” Joy says with a sigh. “I mean, I’ve been coming to these things with Jace forever, but it’s exhausting to try and make small talk when you don’t know anyone, you know?”
“We’ve got you,” Starla says. The pop star is dressed in a killer strapless green dress that has a slit up the side to her hip. Red-soled heels are the perfect touch. She turns to me, a wide smile on her face. “Wow, girl, you clean up nice.”
“It was all Amelia’s doing. I can bake a cake like a champ, but I’m worthless when it comes to makeup.”
“Good thing she has me,” Amelia says with a wink.
While the other three chat about dresses and hairstyles, I glance around the room, not expecting to see anyone I know. I love my brother-in-law, but I don’t walk in the same social circles as he does.
There’s a glass sculpture in the middle of the room that I immediately recognize, and I wander away from the others to check it out.
Vivid red, orange, and yellow; twisty, swirling shapes that reach for the ceiling. I’d recognize the work anywhere.
This is an O’Callaghan piece.
I stand and sip my bubbly drink, examining the craftsmanship in the glass, then notice a discreet plaque that says it’s part of the silent auction.
I’m positive that I can’t afford it. His pieces go for thousands, sometimes hundreds of thousands of dollars.
My family is wealthy, but that’s out of my price range.
But maybe, just maybe I can put in a bid.
I wander over to the silent auction bids and see that the sculpture is already well into the six figures and kiss that dream goodbye.
Someday, maybe, I’ll own one of Kane’s pieces.
I shrug a shoulder and turn to walk away, almost colliding with a broad chest.
“Oh, pardon me,” I say. When my eyes travel up the strong chest and over the recently shaven square jawline, I look into mossy green eyes.
Kane O’Callaghan.
“We meet again,” he says with a small smile.
“It seems we do.” I take a deep breath, and the smell of someone’s perfume fills my nostrils. My lungs immediately tighten. As much as I want to stay and talk with him, ask him a million questions, I have to get to a restroom.
I need my rescue inhaler.
Damn it!
I take two big steps and begin the mental speech to talk me down from a full-on panic attack.
You’re fine. You’re breathing fine. Slow breaths, Anastasia. It’s just a little perfume, that’s all.
I try to smile his way, and then turn away again. I guess if I have a full-on asthma attack here and now, there are roughly forty-seven doctors who can save the day.
I walk into the women’s restroom and open my clutch, pull out my inhaler, and take a long pull off it, relieved when the albuterol fills my lungs. I immediately feel relief.
See? You’re fine. All better. No reason to panic.
Let’s not even consider the fact that this is the second time in two days that I’ve managed to make a fool of myself in front of Kane.
I stuff the inhaler back into my clutch and walk out of the restroom where Kane is leaning against the wall, his hands in his pockets, looking casual and calm as he watches me walk through the door.
“Was it something I said?” he asks.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to rush off.”
“All better?” His lips turn up in that half-smile.
“Better.” I nod, not wanting to get into my medical issues. “That piece you donated is stunning.”
“Thank you.” He slips a hand out of his pocket and reaches out for mine. “Dance with me.”
“Dance with you?”
He quirks an eyebrow. “Please.”Chapter Two~Anastasia~Okay, so the man has moves. It shouldn’t surprise me that someone who creates such amazing works of art can also lead a girl around the dance floor. With one palm firmly planted on my lower back, and the other clutching my hand, Kane keeps his eyes on mine.