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“Not at all.” I buckled my seat belt, and he shut the door.
As he walked around to the driver’s side, my phone sounded with a ringtone I hadn’t heard in forever.
A text message from Hayden.
Currently Being an Asshole: Call me before you leave my gala. We need to talk.
That was it.
No, “I’m sorry for being an ass and ignoring you.” No, “I’ve been a bad best friend lately,” not even a “Please forgive me.”
I turned off my notifications and looked over at Simon as he cranked the engine. I didn’t want to think about Hayden for the rest of the night, and I wasn’t calling him for shit.
“Tell me about your latest trip to Florida, Simon …”
Twenty-Seven
PRESENT DAY
Penelope
The flashing lights from the cameras nearly blinded us as we stepped out of the car.
As always, a lush red carpet lay underneath a covered awning that stretched from the valet lane to the gala’s tree-lined entrance.
“Welcome to Hayden Hunter’s Annual Children’s Charity Gala,” a tuxedoed host greeted us at the door. “Name and affiliation, please.”
“Simon Gaines.” Simon squeezed my hand. “I’m one of the multimillion dollar donors.”
“Are you sure?” He shook his head. “You’re not on the list, sir. Could it be listed under your company’s name, instead?”
“The Simon G. Fund, perhaps.” Simon shot me a confused look.
“It’s not under that one either, I’m afraid.”
“Try Penelope Carter,” I said, and the host’s eyes met mine.
“You already know that you’re on all of Mr. Hunter’s lists, Miss Carter,” He smiled and lifted the velvet rope. “You and your date can follow the silver signs to the V.I.P. section.”
“Thank you.”
“That’s weird,” Simon whispered. “I personally delivered my donation check to Hayden.”
When was this? “He probably forgot to tell Sarah to add you,” I said. “That, or she wrote it down too fast and couldn’t read her own handwriting. That happens a lot with her.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
We made our way through the mirrored hallways, and my jaw dropped to the floor once we set foot in the ballroom.
Thousands of twinkling white lights hung from the glass ceiling, perfectly arranged to frame the ice skating rink design on the floor.
The words for tonight’s theme—Dreams are Forever, were etched onto the champagne glasses that sat atop passing waiters’ trays.
“This is phenomenal,” Simon looked as in awe as I did. “Did you give any input on this?”
“No.” I noticed a walkway of ice sculptures in the form of skaters’ poses. “Hayden didn’t tell me anything.”
“There are snowflakes falling over the dance floor.” He pointed out. “Well, glitter maybe.”
“Allow me to grab us something stronger from one of the bars.” He kissed my cheek. “I’ll be right back.”
I barely noticed him leaving.
I stepped onto the “rink,” pressing the front of my heel on top of a snowflake that was trapped under the glass.
I squinted at the tiny words that were frozen onto the ridges, but I couldn’t quite read the whole phrase.
Still unmatched at twenty-seven?
“There he is!” “That’s him over there!” “Get his picture, would you?” A chorus of voices from behind made me look up.
At the center of the floor, Hayden posed for a picture with Lawrence.
Dressed in a custom black suit and diamond cufflinks that put every other man in this room to shame, he instantly became the center of attention.
Flashing his perfect smile, he performed his staged laugh for the press as Lawrence gave him the usual signal.
He made brief eye contact with the photogs while they snapped thousands of pictures, and then he looked over at me.
Blinking a few times, his lips parted as he slowly looked over my dress. His gaze roamed my body up and down, and my body betrayed me with a reaction.
With every second that passed, my heart raced a brand-new rhythm—picking up speed each time his eyes returned to mine.
I tried my best to turn away from him—to focus on something else in this stunning room, but he was the best thing in it.
Looking me over one more time, he posed for a final picture before walking my way.
“Good evening, Penelope,” he said. “It’s good to see you here.”
“Is it?” I snapped out of my haze, refusing to forgive or forget his past few weeks of assholery. “Given how you’ve treated me lately, I’m shocked you even want me here.”
“Of course, I want you.” He lowered his voice. “I think I’ve made that somewhat clear. Did you get my text?”
“Yes, I got it.” I shrugged. “I’m planning to text you back a few weeks from now since that seems to be the timeline we’re going with these days. Right?”
“You tell me.” He narrowed his eyes. “You started it when you got a boyfriend.”
“If you had a girlfriend, I’m sure it’d be the same.”
“I guarantee that it wouldn’t.”
We stood still glaring at each other, ignoring the sounds of clicking cameras around us.
