She smiled, looking down at it. “Thank you. It was a gift.”
“Oh, well, whoever he is has excellent taste.”
She eyed me, taking in my dress. When she spotted the necklace, she turned more toward me. It seemed Stacy was right. If I looked like I was someone to be envious of, she’d be more willing to talk to me. Something about always wanting what we couldn’t have and if you acted like you were someone, others believed it. I never realized how much reverse psychology went into dressing people.
“I could say the same about your man.” She lifted an eyebrow, motioning toward my necklace. I leaned in conspiratorially.
“He has great taste. I couldn’t believe he got it for me. I’m kind of scared to wear it. I’m not used to these types of events. Plus, it’s from my boyfriend, and my husband doesn’t know.”
Her eyes went wide at that, and just like I’d hoped, her smile became bigger. “It seems we have something in common.”
“Oh?” I asked, taking the drink from the bartender.
She leaned closer, whispering. “I’m here with my boyfriend, too.” She raised her eyes at the word, making sure I understood.
“Well, to boyfriends with good taste,” I cheered, raising my glass to hers. “I’m Loren.”
“Gabriella.” We both took a sip, turning to look out at the crowd. I caught her looking over, eyeing me occasionally. Her blue eyes stood out from her mask, and I felt terrible for lying to her, but I had to remember the bigger picture.
“Have you ever been to something like this?” I asked when she grew quiet.
“Occasionally, though this is more luxurious than most of the things I get toted to.”
The therapist part of me picked up on her sadness, and I fought to not pull that string. “Oh?” I asked, losing the battle with myself. “That sounds suspiciously like unhappiness.” She tensed, and I berated myself for stepping over the line. “Shit, sorry. I have a knack for picking up on people’s emotions, but I’m crap about staying in my lane, so to speak. Ignore what I said,” I rambled, losing the calm tone I’d been imploring. I cringed, looking over at her.
Something in either my words or expression eased her, and she let out a low chuckle. “I don’t know why, but I like you, Loren. You’re not like most women at these places, even though you’re by far prettier than any of them.”
I smiled at her compliment, but it did nothing to quell the pit in my stomach at using her secrets against her. “Thank you. That’s kind of you. I’m sorry I pried. It really is one of my worst traits.”
“I might regret this, but you seem like you genuinely care, not one of those women who are only nice to me so they can get close to my date. But I guess you don't need to when you have a man like yours.” She lifted her eyes over my shoulder, and I turned, finding Sax watching me. I waved, turning back, a look of love on my face.
“Yep, you’re not using me,” she assessed, deciding something. I bit my lip, hating myself a little. Atticus said the family he was creating was different, so maybe that meant I could be a different type of Queen too.
“Actually, I was. But I can’t. Please, if you follow me somewhere private, I’ll explain everything. I think we could help one another, Gabriella.” She tensed at my words but nodded, following me. I could feel my shadow watching, so I knew he’d know where I was going and tell the others if they needed me.
I couldn't use this woman. She was innocent for the most part. While I disagreed with her choice to sleep with a married man, it didn’t mean I wanted to embarrass or shame her. Perhaps there was a way for us all to help one another.
Stepping under the rope that sealed off the upstairs, I picked up my dress and climbed the steps, which was exceedingly harder to do in these heels. By the time I made it to the top, I was cursing my decision, but I couldn’t deny how much quieter it was.
“Okay, talk,” she said, her kindness gone as she placed her hands on her hips, staring daggers at me.
I took off my mask, hoping it would let me show my sincerity. “My name is Loren Mascro, and I’m married to Atticus Mascro.” At the name, she tensed a little but held her own, making me like her even more. “Actually, I have five husbands, but we won’t get into that. I was supposed to get you to talk and then blackmail you with a secret I know,” I admitted, swallowing. She crossed her arms, her eyes conveying all the ways she would hurt me. “But that’s not who I am. I’m a therapist by trade, and, I hope, a good person. I don’t know what difficult things you’ve dealt with in your life, but I can hear a broken soul. You’re hurting, and I can’t add on to that. I won’t.”
“So, because you think you know my story, you’re what? Offering me therapy advice? You’re crazier than I thought.” She turned to leave, and worry climbed my throat, desperate to spill out.
“Wait, no, that’s not it. A man is coming here tonight, and he’s evil. He’s hurt my family in so many ways. We threw this event to put the right people in place at the right time to stop him.”
“And how do I play into that?” she asked, turning around.
“This man has acquired significant wealth and prestige, and if he gains political connections, he will be unstoppable. I know your secret, but I won’t use it against you. If you need help, though, I can do that. But it’s your choice.”
“What did you hope to gain from me?” she asked, stepping closer. “I’m a nobody. I’m just here to look pretty.”
“Oh, Gabriella, you’re so much more than that.” I took her hand, squeezing. “I know you want to go to school, and you started being an escort to pay for that. Then things happened, setting you behind. I’m not one to judge your choices, but I’d like to help you have different ones if you want them. I’ll help you regardless of what you decide. It’s not an either/or decision.”
She observed me, looking me over from head to toe. I pleaded with my eyes for her to trust me. “I still need to know what you wanted from me,” she said, standing her ground.
“Fair.” I nodded. “My husband is brokering a deal with your date, the mayor. If he needed some persuasion, then that was where you came in.”