Page 33 of Buttons

Her eyes widen slightly; she wasn’t expecting resistance. “I’m only trying to help,” she murmurs, though she doesn’t release his arm.

“I don’t need your help managing my family,” he says, extracting himself from her grip.

“Julian,” I say quietly, “there’s nothing to manage. I’m not coming back.”

Frustration flashes through his eyes. “You’re being irrational. This is an emotional response to what was a simple misunderstanding.”

“What misunderstanding was that?” I ask. “The list where you ranked women like products? Or the years you spent criticizing everything from my hair to my nose to the way I interacted with your clients?”

“That was eight years ago,” Julian hisses. “I chose you in the end, didn’t I?”

“Yes,” I say, my voice steady despite the ache in my chest. “And then spent every day since reminding me how I didn’t quite measure up to the perfect woman you had in mind.”

Carmella steps closer again, her hand sliding around Julian’s waist. “Julian, we should find our seats. The program is about to begin.”

Julian pulls away from her touch, irritation now plainly visible on his face. “Stop it, Carmella. This isn’t helping.”

“I’m only trying to—”

“I said stop.” His voice carries enough for nearby heads to turn. Julian never loses control in public—it’s his cardinal rule.

Rather than feel satisfaction at seeing him rattled, I feel a hollow sadness. For years, I believed Julian Plaza was a man who knew exactly who he was and what he wanted. But now when I look at him, I see a man desperately trying to maintain an image that’s beginning to crumble around him.

“So touchy-feely,” I say. “Shame you were never that way with me.”

Thankfully, the host takes the stand, letting me off the hook from continuing my conversation. “Ladies and gentlemen, if you’ll please take your seats.”

“This conversation isn’t over,” Julian says, his voice low and urgent. His eyes actually show emotion right now, which is surprising.

“Yes, it is,” I reply simply. “It was over the moment I walked out the door.”

I turn on my heel, but he reaches out and grips my arm to stop me from leaving. When I glare at his hand touching me, he quickly releases it. “I miss the kids. How is Leo’s project turning out? Has Meredith looked at the pictures I’ve sent her yet?”

“They’re fine, and they miss you, too.” I’ll admit, the children need more than phone calls from their father, and I do appreciate that Julian is not using them against me. So far there hasn’t been a legal battle over custody, but it’s still nice to hear him care at least a little bit, rather than the apathy he’s given the last few days.

For what it’s worth, he looks relieved.

Carmella takes advantage of the distraction to reclaim Julian’s arm. “Our table is center front,” she says, tugging him gently in that direction. “We should go. They’re starting”

Julian hesitates, his gaze still locked with mine. I see the calculation behind his eyes.

“Go,” I tell him. “Your perfect seat at your perfect table with your perfect date is waiting.” I inject just enough emphasis into the word “perfect” that he can’t miss my meaning.

He flinches almost imperceptibly, then allows Carmella to lead him away as the host starts talking. As they move toward the front of the room, I notice his hand no longer rests on her back.

I turn and head in the opposite direction, toward a table near the back, which is, ironically, the area Julian would have preferred. My steps feel lighter than they did when I entered.

Chapter 13

The Pioneer

CARMELLA RUIZ AND JULIAN PLAZA: REUNITED AND IT FEELS SO GOOD By Lilly-Ann Devereaux, Senior Society Columnist

Must we even feign surprise? When destiny flirts with the elite, it conjures scenes far more decadent than fiction. And let me tell you, romance girlies are swooning over this new development.

Last night’s gala revealed what insiders have long whispered: true love, it seems, can wait in the wings until the perfect spotlight. Carmella Ruiz, once a freshman liberal-arts major with dreams of diplomacy, has matured into a statuesque beauty and savvy event organizer. Meanwhile, Plaza—known for steering a billion-dollar portfolio—appears to have found both muse and strategic partner in her.

In the ballroom, their intimate reunion looked both like a rekindled romance and a corporate merger of heart eyes. Sources say Julian originally wanted to marry Carmella, butfor whatever reason, opted for his allegedly estranged wife, Elowen Plaza. Was it an arranged marriage gone wrong?