It hadn’t been an apology, but the acknowledgement had closed some gaps inside him. No matter what he’d done, what mistakes he’d made. He hadn’t deserved to be left behind. No child deserved that.
Cela stepped up behind him, laying her hands on his shoulders and dragging him out of his thoughts. She leaned over to peek at his laptop. “What’cha working on?”
“There are some buyers interested in the company. I’m setting up meetings.”
“Still stuck on that, huh?” she asked, her opinion clear in her tone.
He sighed. He’d come a long way in the last few days, but he still didn’t think he could spend the rest of his life running 4N. He’d started the company for Neve, and now every day he went in, he’d be reminded of how he’d failed her. How he’d never be able to help her or add a gold “found” plaque beneath her photo on the wall. It all seemed so . . . pointless now. “I think it’s for the best.”
“Can you take a break from it?” she asked, stepping around him and sinking onto his lap. “I thought all three of us could bust out of these walls and go out tonight. Pike has tickets to a swanky record release party.”
He frowned. “I don’t think I’m ready for any parties, angel.”
“Come on,” she protested. “There will be alcohol and we can get all dressed up. It will do you good to get out for a while. Plus, I have a dress Bailey lent me that shows a lot of leg.”
The pleading look on her face was more than he could handle. So much for the dom having all the power. One look like that and he was fucking toast. He pushed her hair behind her ears and cupped her face. “Fine. But only because you promised me leg.”
She laughed and kissed him. “Good. Now go put on a suit, so I can drool over you all night, too.”
He smiled, even with all the sadness still sitting on his shoulders, Cela could manage to cheer him up. “You’re getting mighty bossy, slave girl.”
“No worries. You can punish me later.”
“Brat.”
“You know it.”
—
Cela was way too excited about this party. Foster was trying his best to be peppy, but really, he’d been to these record shindigs with Pike befor
e and had never been all that impressed. Hopefully, he and Cela could have a few drinks, stay for an hour, and head back home.
Pike had lined up a limo and had asked Cela’s friend Bailey to come with them. The girl seemed absolutely beside herself sitting next to Pike—her hands constantly smoothing the material of her dress, and her gaze regularly sneaking over to her date. Pike had told Cela he’d made it clear up front that he was only taking Bailey as a friend. Cela didn’t seem bothered either way, but Foster knew Pike wasn’t going to mess with a friend of Cela’s—especially one so young and starstruck. Even he had his limits.
They pulled up to the place where the event was being held, and Foster was surprised to see the grand entrance of Hotel St. Mark through the window. He nodded toward the building. “Hey, look at that. What are the chances?”
Cela just smiled and grabbed his hand. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
They climbed out of the limo and headed toward one of the ballrooms. The hotel, of course, looked the same as it had when he’d taken Cela here that first night, but God, so much had changed. He’d sauntered into that hotel that evening looking for a fun, kinky night with his sexy neighbor. Never would he have guessed he’d end up here again with Cela on his arm as his girlfriend.
Cela guided him through the lobby toward the back of the hotel, where the ballroom was located, but before they stepped through the doors, she turned and gave him a quick kiss. “Just remember, if you want to be mad, take it out on me later. But right now, I need you to smile.”
“What?”
She tugged him through the door and into a room buzzing with people. He was still trying to process what her cryptic comment meant, when he saw the large banner above the stage on the far end of the room. 132 Lives Saved—Thank You, 4N!
He froze, his feet fastening to the floor. “What the hell is this?”
Pike stepped up behind him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Welcome to your party, bro. You’re a hero.”
Heaviness landed in the pit of his stomach. Hero. That was the last thing he was. “Cela . . .”
She bit her lip, her expression anxiously expectant. “Remember, smile. You can make me pay later.”
He ran a hand over the back of his head, fighting the urge to stride right back out. But before he could say anything else, his assistant, Lindy, hurried over to him like a whirlwind of fluttering hands and smiles. She threw her arms around him. “I’m so glad you came!”