I’d spent the past two days since my call with Vivian planning the date, and my nerves were a humiliating wreck. I hadn’t been this nervous since I was a high school freshman asking out the most popular girl in school.
I pushed my hands into my pockets while Vivian returned Greta’s hug. An irrational plume of green smoke curled through me.
Hell must be frigid if I was jealous of my damn seventy-four-year-old housekeeper.
“It’s good to see you, too,” Vivian said, her voice warm. “Not working too hard, I hope.”
“No, just making sure myboss—” Greta raised her voice even though I stood less than five feet away—“doesn’t mess up any more than he has. It’s a full-time job,micetta. Not for the faint of heart.”
Fucking Greta.Every day, I questioned why I hadn’t fired her yet.
An awkward silence bloomed.
Vivian glanced in my direction and quickly looked away. My already raw nerves shredded into ribbons.
“Well,” Greta said, obviously realizing she’d made things more uncomfortable than intended. “I’ll let you two get to it. I’ll be in the kitchen.”
She patted Vivian’s hand and glared at me as she passed.
Don’t fuck up,her eyes said.
My scowl deepened. Like I needed her to tell me that.
“Should I be wary of the fact the date is at your house?” Vivian asked.
I’d told her to dress comfortably, but even in a simple cotton sundress and sandals, she was so fucking beautiful it took my breath away.
Our house.“Not unless you’re scared of food and a good time.”
“You have a high opinion of your date planning skills.”
“You’ve never complained.”
She rolled her eyes, but my mouth curved at her faint smile. It was progress, no matter how small.
“So.” I cleared my throat as we walked toward the den, where I’d set everything up. “The Legacy Ball was a hit. The whole city’s buzzing about it.”
“They’re buzzing about Veronica Foster’s appearance more than anything,” she said. “Who could’ve guessed she has such good vocals?”
Most socialites who dabbled in the arts “succeeded” due to nepotism, not talent. Veronica was a surprising exception.
“You did,” I said. “You gave her a slot after watching her tape. I’m sure Buffy’s happy.”
“Yes. My reputation lives to see another day.”
Another awkward silence thudded between us.
Lau Jewels’s stock had plummeted to record low levels after a deluge of bad press. Vivian wasn’t too affected yet—I’d made sure of that—but she wasn’t immune to the whispers and speculation.
Things I had a hand in fomenting.
Guilt pierced my gut.
I’d played a Hail Mary at the ball Friday night. Part of me had expected her to slap me and storm off, but another, uncharacteristically idealistic part had hoped she would hear me out.
And she had.
I didn’t know what I did to deserve it, but I was fucking taking it.