“Hugo St-John.”
I tensed, my cheek twitching at the sultry voice coming from beside me. I turned my head slowly to see her, Cecilia Hanover, standing by my seat, looking as ethereal as she had always been.
I stood up and grabbed her hand, kissing the back of it.
“Cecilia, you look absolutely stunning,” I said with a little bow.
“I heard you were in London but I never received a call,” she chastised while giving me a flirty smile. “I didn’t think you enjoyed classical music. It must be fate.”
Fate…I wanted to snort. ‘Fate’ was like ‘coincidence’—words spoken by limited, lazy minds to explain things they couldn’t explain.
Words that women like Cecilia were overly fond of.
I all but wanted to tell her the truth. It was not fate that had brought me here, but a woman who haunted my dreams, feeding an obsession I wanted to smother. An obsession that became only too real when Hardings coveted her, making me realize that he could offer her almost as much as I could.
I let my eyes wander behind Cecilia and stopped at the next tier down. Ava was a little further than I would have liked but she was sitting down, laughing at something Hardings had said. My hand twitched with my desire to hit him.
Jealousy… what an ugly thing; but Ben was right—it was so powerful.
I concentrated on Cecilia again as she was going on about my lack of communication. It was the perfect opportunity. Cecilia was at the top of my father’s ‘perfect bride’ list.
She was wealthy and with more noble blood than us, meaning that if we were to marry, we’d be taking another couple of steps closer to the top, which was something my father often hinted at.
I’d given it a try with her a few years back, actually. Cecilia had been the closest thing to a relationship I’d ever had. I’d seen her regularly and almost exclusively for seven months when she had gone for an internship at Vogue’s offices in New York, but she'd gotten way too intense. When I saw an email exchange between her and my father, I’d cut my losses and ran away.
Jealousy…My eyes trailed back to where Ava was. Maybe Cecilia was the answer. Maybe I could get a reaction out of Ava and maybe…
“I missed you,” she said with a small smile, resting her hand on my cheek.
Maybe Cecilia was the relationship I needed to forget my addiction to Ava. It would be easy for us; we were perfect for each other, at least on paper. If I could ever make it work with anyone, it had to be her.
“Have dinner with me.”
Her eyes widened with surprise. I could not blame her. I had barely acknowledged her existence for the past two years.
“When?”
I shrugged. “When are you free?”
“Whenever. I can make it work.”
I couldn’t help but smile smugly. She was addicted to me. Ava was the only one who didn’t take what I had to offer. The simple thought made my mood darken a little at the reminder of her rejection.
“Sunday night?”
She grimaced, visibly torn. “I’ve got a presentation to do on Monday. It's ready but it just needs a few tweaks.”
I waved my hand dismissively, almost thanking heaven to be handed the perfect excuse for my plan.
“I’ll handle your presentation. So, what do you say? My place at 8 pm?”
“I’ve never been to your penthouse,” she said, now rubbing my arm slowly.
“It’s time to remediate the situation, don’t you think?”
Her smile widened. “I could not agree more.”
I nodded and sat back down, pretending to be engrossed by the man settling behind the piano as the lights dimmed.