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He wasn’t what she expected.
New York Minute
Sorry, folks. No Ry-cky sightings today.
¯\_(?)_/¯
Chapter Sixteen
“Noah Prince is engaged? To someone else? How can that be? He’s been with you for years!”
“No, Daddy, remember? We broke up.” Vicky pinched the bridge of her nose with one hand as she held the phone to her ear with the other. Maybe she shouldn’t have mentioned Noah’s upcoming nuptials. She knew he didn’t pay close attention to society news these days, but she’d been afraid word would seep down to Florida eventually and had wanted to get ahead of it. It was clear, however, from her father’s reaction that what rated as earth-shattering news in Manhattan didn’t even register in his circle of wealthy, semiretired, golf-playing septuagenarians.
Which made it even less likely he could possibly have gotten wind of her “relationship” with Ryder. Something she was definitely not going to bring up now. She counted her blessings. There was something to be said for a man who had his finger on the pulse of little more than a dry martini these days.
Her father cleared his throat awkwardly. “Oh, yes, that’s right. Well, are you okay with this, Pumpkin?”
“I’m fine, Daddy.”
“I still don’t see why you need to attend the engagement party.”
“Noah is still my business partner. And the family are still dear friends.” She knew he wouldn’t argue with that. After all, Cheryl had been her mother’s best friend. Not only that, but for Lawrence Ashby, semiretired meant he still retained the reins of his own multibillion-dollar company. He knew full well the importance of maintaining good relationships with powerful business connections.
“Nevertheless,” he said firmly after a pause, “you ought to protect your heart, Pumpkin.”
She felt a rush of warmth for him. She knew it wasn’t easy for him to show affection, to talk to her about her feelings. But ever since they had lost her mom, when it really mattered, he had tried. And she loved him for it.
She wanted to let him know she really was going to be all right. It was still too early, and she was too unsure about Davis to make any promises, but she could hint at it, she supposed.
“Actually . . . there is someone. We’re not exactly seeing each other, but I think we might be soon.”
“Oh?” Her dad sounded excited. But then he tempered his tone. “But does he make you happy, Pumpkin?”
Strangely, the memory of Ryder trying to coax her into the fountain at Lincoln Center popped into her head. But she brushed it away.
She thought, instead, of the text Davis had sent her overnight. True, it had arrived at four in the morning since he’d been somewhere over the Pacific when he sent it. And it had been only a few lines, but it had been there to greet her when she woke up. And anyway, the point was he had been thinking about her.
“Yes, Daddy. I think he does. Or he will,” she amended. After a moment of reflection, she added, “We suit each other.”
“Hmm.” Her father grunted noncommittally. “And would I like him?”
She smiled to herself, thinking of Davis, his refined manner, the respect he commanded, his quiet charm. “I think you would, Daddy.”
“Well, all right, then. I still think you’re crazy to be attending this evening, but I won’t keep you. I know you’ll be wanting to do your hair and pick just the right jewelry and whatnot as you ladies do.”
Vicky remembered her mother confiding in her that her dad had no sense of what went into meeting the expectations of being a society woman. After all, all he needed to do to attend a formal event was shave and throw on a suit. She bit back a smile. “Something like that. I’ll talk to you soon, Daddy.”
“Bye bye, Pumpkin.”
She hung up the phone and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Right. Well, the press would be there along with half of New York’s elite—the people whose respect she’d need if she truly wanted to earn a name for herself. Time to choose just the right jewelry and whatnot.
* * *
Two hours later, Vicky entered the ballroom at the Prince Plaza Midtown. She wore an elegant gown in emerald satin, her hair smoothed into a neat chignon, makeup subtle and classic. Schooling her features into a pleasant smile, she was, she knew, the picture of graciousness and poise. On the outside. On the inside, she felt like she might throw up.
What she was nervous about she wasn’t sure. That the media would portray her as the poor jilted ex, putting up a brave front as she watched Noah get everything she’d ever wanted while she stood by with nothing? That she’d actually be the poor, jilted ex putting up a brave front as she watched Noah get everything she’d ever wanted while she stood by with . . . well, not nothing, but certainly less than she’d hoped for herself.
So far, she reminded herself. Less than she’d hoped so far. She and Davis were nearly an item. And she wasn’t here alone, she had Ryder.
