HADYN
“Stop glaring into the back of my head, Max,” I demand gruffly.
My best friend’s cold blue eyes get a degree icier, which is saying something because Max’s stare is already Siberian-levels of frigid. He’s standing behind me, staring creepily at me as I fix my tie in the mirror.
“I missed that,” Alistair says, walking into view. He’s wearing a crisp white shirt and black trousers. A black jacket is slung over his bent arm. “What is Stinton angry about now?”
“Something about Hadyn not saying ‘I love you’,” Darrel supplies, rising from the settee at the foot of the bed where he was slipping on his dress shoes.
Alistair scrubs his chin and looks between Max and me. “Oh. It’s that kind of party?”
“Shut up, Alistair,” Max growls.
I chuckle at my friend’s blistering expression. “Apparently, Max doesn’t understand me and Vanya’s love language.”
“I’m sure that I told you to admit how you feel. Instead of doing that, you went and told her you hate her?”
“In my defense, she said it first,” I mutter, fixing my tie.
“Real mature,” Max mumbles.
I’m the only guy in the room who’s free from the proverbial stick up his butt. I don’t expect any of these men, who came out of the womb trading stocks and bonds, to understand me.
“So you told her you hate her,” Darrel muses, “and she didn’t punch you in the throat?”
“Dawn would have run me over with a car,” Max mumbles.
I laugh.
Alistair grimaces as if he’s picturing a fate worse than death.
“You guys don’t understand. Vanya and I have our own thing going.” I turn and face them.
Like Alistair, Darrel and Max are wearing suits. We’re getting ready for the gala by ourselves because our women decided they wanted to get dressed together. Like this is the freaking prom.
The guys have been grumbling about the separation since they were informed of the change in plans.
I’m just as eager to see Vanya, but I’m not going to whine about it like they are.
“What happened after you told her you hate her?” Alistair asks curiously.
I’m not going to tell them I added ‘I despise you’ to the list of sappy crap that men say before sex. And I’m not going to tell them I slept with her either.
I may be a lot of things, but I’m not the type to kiss and tell.
Alistair recognizes it first. “She let you into her bed with that mouth?”
She let me into a lot of things with this mouth. I pull my lips in to hide my smile. “Do we have any more beer?”
“So it’s true then,” Max says, sliding a hand into his pocket. “Women really do take your crap and call it cake. Even Vanya.”
“Don’t be jealous, Max.”
He scoffs. “Vanya’s a friend. Not just to me. Dawn is attached to her. Protective. She doesn’t know you like that, so obviously, she’s going to side with Vanya if things go south. And if I have to choose a side, I’m going to choose my fiancée’s.”
“Decades of friendship thrown aside, just like that?” I shake my head in mock disappointment.
“I don’t want you to screw this up like you always do.”
“I’m not screwing this up. After last night, Vanya and I are good.”
Max gives me a dubious look which I ignore.
He doesn’t get it. Last night, Vanya was soft, pliable, eager. I anchored her back to me when she got too much in her head and she stayed there. She was right there with me.
“I. Love. You.” Alistair counts each word on his fingers. “That’s pretty freaking hard to screw up. I don’t see why you’d go with anything other than the obvious.”
Darrel just stands aside and watches me, but his stare is awfully judgmental.
I ignore them. Vanya and I are doing our own thing right now. This relationship hasn’t been following the rule book since the start. Dragging my feelings into the open is only going to make things more complicated than it needs to be.
Vanya knows how I feel. Of course she does.
Max’s phone buzzes. His eyes light up like the Fourth of July. “Dawn said they’re ready. They’ll meet us downstairs.”
It’s a stampede to the door with us elbowing each other and pulling each other back in order to get through first.
I’m second, right behind Max.
Alistair is third.
Darrel is fourth because he was the only one who didn’t fight.
We take the stairs rather than the elevator and burst through to the second floor.
My eyes cut through the hallway and land straight on Vanya.
My first thought is holy crap, she’s stunning.
My second thought is wait, why isn’t she wearing any of the dresses?
This fitted silver dress looks like a suit jacket without a shirt underneath. Her breasts spring out at the top like chocolate-toned water buoys bobbing on a still lake. The exaggerated square shape at the hips draws the eyes to the long, silver tassels hanging to the floor. On her feet are a pair of see-through heels. Way higher than the doctor recommends but I’m not going to scold her for it since tonight is a special occasion.
It’s an extravagant dress. Something only someone like Vanya could pull off.
I smile, but I can’t help the uneasy feeling that something isn’t right.
“Hey.” I walk over to her and kiss her cheek.
She glances away as if she can’t stand the sight of me. “Hey.”
That ache in my chest gets worse. “You look great.”
“Thanks.” Her eyes remain on something way beyond me.
“You guys ready to go in?” Alistair asks.
The door to the left bursts open and a mature-looking man wearing spectacles rushes out. “Sir, we have a problem.”
Kenya breaks away from her husband and gives the man a concerned look. “Ezekiel, what’s wrong?”
Alistair walks toward his wife and places a hand on her back. His expression is controlled, but the way he’s hovering close to Kenya betrays his anxiety.
“Mr. Sazuki was in a small accident,” Ezekiel says.
“Is he okay?” Vanya asks.
“No one was hurt, but he and his entourage are stranded while the police sort things out.”
Alistair narrows his eyes. “Send another car to collect him. In the meantime, find an orchestra to play until Sazuki gets here.”
“An orchestra? It’ll be almost impossible to get them organized and here in time,” Ezekiel croaks.
Alistair’s eyebrows drop low. “We promised the guests live music.”
“I can call someone,” Vanya says, stepping forward.
Every head swings to her. Including mine.
“I have a friend who’s studying classical piano. She can be here in,” Vanya checks her watch, “ten minutes.”
“Is she any good?” Kenya asks.
I speak up. “Vanya wouldn’t have suggested it if she wasn’t.”
Alistair thinks it over. “Okay. Call her now.”
I frown at his harsh tone.
Kenya elbows him in the side.
Alistair glances at his wife and then clears his throat. “Please. And I appreciate it.”
“No problem.” Vanya stalks away to call the café while the other couples slip into the ballroom.
I wait for her conversation with Dejonae to end and then walk up to her. Setting a hand on her waist, I ask, “What’s the verdict?”
“She’ll hurry over. She was wondering if there’s a piano in there.”
“Alistair mentioned that Sazuki’s piano is already in place,” I tell her. “All she needs to bring is her sheet music.”
Vanya nods and starts to walk past me.
I capture her hand and stop her. “Hey.”
“What?” Her gaze flickers to mine.
Again, I get an uneasy feeling. Something’s wrong, but I can’t put a finger on what it is.
Vanya looks impatiently at me. “Did you need something?”
“Are… are we good?”
Her eyebrows hike. The way I can’t breathe until she speaks is almost pathetic.
“We’ll talk later,” Vanya says finally.
I watch her glide into the ballroom alone and the pang in my chest becomes a physical ache. Should I ditch the gala and find a cardiologist? This can’t be normal.
I end up following Vanya into the gala instead of running to the nearest hospital. Whatever’s on her mind, I’m getting to the bottom of it tonight.
The gala’s filled with businessmen and beauty influencers. I know a few of the women from my contacts at the company, but there are plenty more whom I know more intimately. Those girls keep coming up to me, hugging me and trying to chat.
Vanya disappeared when the first girl showed up. I freed myself from the chick’s clingy arms without hesitation, but when I turned around, Vanya was gone.
My eyes cut through the gala. If I’d known there would be so many social media influencers in attendance, I probably would have bowed out. There are too many conquests from my past here.
Normally, I wouldn’t care. I never feel regret or shame about my reputation. I’m always upfront with the women I get involved with and I never promise anything I can’t deliver.
But this time, every girl that smiles at me makes me want to grab Vanya and run. If I can find her.
Servers in white shirts, vests and dark pants dip through the crowd with trays of wine. Max and Dawn are on the other side of the room.
Vanya isn’t with them.
She’s not with Sunny or Kenya either.
I turn around in a slow circle and that’s when I see her.
She’s escorting Dejonae into the room.
Vanya’s biggest chai supplier is wearing a T-shirt and jeans. I guess there wasn’t any time to change after leaving the café.
Dejonae looks up at Vanya with a nervous smile.
My wife dips her head and says something to her that makes Dejonae laugh.
Vanya’s glowing. When I see her grin at Dejonae, I realize that she hasn’t smiled at me like that since that day in the boutique.
I make my way over to Dejonae and Vanya.
The moment she sees me coming, Vanya goes cold. People who don’t know her call her ‘ice princess’. She can freeze you out in the blink of an eye and won’t lose a wink of sleep over it.
But she’s never turned that ice on me. It’s always fire. Always a heat and a snap that’s ready to burn me alive.
Vanya blinks and a quick, polite smile drifts over her face. But it’s too late. I know her. I’ve studied every one of her expressions since I was a kid. Something’s changed and not in a good way.
“Hey, Hadyn.” Dejonae grabs my attention away from Vanya.
“H-hey,” I say distractedly. “Uh, you ready to get this party started?”
“Bach isn’t exactly a party starter, but I guess so.”
“You’ll do great,” Vanya says, squeezing Dejonae’s arm.
As Dejonae takes a seat around the piano, she lets out a low whistle. “This looks expensive.”
Footsteps pound up the stairs. It’s Kenya. She’s lifting the skirt of her big, fluffy dress. Alistair’s holding her hand and telling her to slow down before she trips. Kenya doesn’t listen. She races up to the stage in record time. Even though she seems to be in a rush, she stops at the piano and offers her hand to Dejonae.
“Hi, sweetie. I’m Kenya Alistair. Thank you so much for helping us out on such short notice.”
“No problem.” Dejonae smiles.
“I’m going to do a little announcement and then you can start, okay?”
“Are you sure it’s okay for me to play this?” Dejonae points to the piano.
Kenya glances at Alistair.
He dips his chin. “It’s an emergency. I’ll explain to Mr. Sazuki.”
“Okay. Great.” Dejonae smiles brightly.
Kenya hustles toward the mike and quiets everyone down. “Hello and thank you for coming to celebrate Belle’s Beauty with us.”
As applause breaks out, I glance at Vanya. She gives Dejonae one more encouraging squeeze before heading down the stairs.
I hurry to catch up with her. “Here. Hold on to me in case you trip.”
“I’m fine, Hadyn,” she says bluntly.
I lean toward her. “Vanya, what’s wrong?”
Her eyes soften for a second.
“Hadyn, hai!” Someone shrieks my name in a high-pitched voice. A second later, I’m being dragged down into a full-frontal hug.
Vanya’s shoulders turn rigid. “You look busy. I’ll get a drink.”
“Wait, V.” I reach for her.
The woman who greeted me grabs my arm and holds it tight. “It’s been a while, Hadyn. Remember me? Becky? From college? It’s so good to see you.”
“Sorry. I don’t remember most of my college years.” I push her hand off.
Her eyes narrow. “Really? We were in the same art elective.”
I shake my head and try to take a step away.
She stops me by sliding in front of me. “Wait.”
“Look,” I snap, “I really don’t remember sleeping with you and even if I did, it wouldn’t matter because I’m a happily married man. Now can you let my arm go?”
She gives me a dirty look. “I was only going to say that our class is having a reunion. I’m organizing it and I wanted to know if you could come.”
“Oh. I—”
“Forget it.” She stalks past me. “Jerk.”
Without a second of hesitation, I turn around and go after my wife.
“Vanya. Vanya.” I grab her hand when she reaches for one of the sparkling ciders on the table.
She shakes me off. “What?”
“That wasn’t what you think it was,” I explain. The fear that’s clogging my throat is new. I’ve never felt this much desperation to clear things up with a woman before.
“I don’t care what that was, Hadyn. It has nothing to do with me.”
“She was just someone from college. She wanted to ask if I’d attend a reunion.”
Vanya wrenches her hand out of mine. “I said I don’t care.”
“What is going on?” I lean toward her and whisper, “I thought after last night—”
“Last night was a mistake.” Her words are as cold as her eyes. “Just like Vegas.”
I jerk back. There are bullet wounds all over my heart and she’s still got her hands on the trigger.
I never thought I’d be the pathetic sap who’d lose his mind over a woman.
But here I am.
Not just a sap but a whole damn bush of saps willing to do anything to stop her from slipping away.
Vanya tilts her chin up. “I don’t want to argue right now, Hadyn. This is a big night for Kenya and Alistair. And for Dejonae. Let’s talk when her performance is over.”
I want to grab her hand and force her to talk right now, but something tells me that would be a bad idea.
“Okay.” I step back.
She stalks past me, her tassels flying all around her legs. Every man in a five-mile radius checks Vanya out from the corner of their eyes. Why wouldn’t they? She’s glorious and kind and way more than I deserve.
I watch her walk away and take a chunk of my heart with her, leaving a big, gaping hole in my chest.
“Still think not telling her you love her was the right move?” a voice says to my left.
I glance up and notice Darrel leaning against a pillar.
The therapist hands over a drink. “I’ve observed you, Vanya and Max since you’ve been around.” He studies the inside of his glass. “You’re the lighter, happier side of that trio. You force them to do things that are out of their comfort zone. Force them to confront their feelings and release them into the world.”
“You don’t know Vanya or Max. No one can force them to do anything.”
“It’s not by telling them what to do,” Darrel muses. “It’s by example. You don’t lock things up the way the other two do. If there’s something you want, something you like, you chase it to the end.”
“Are you psychoanalyzing me, Darrel?”
“Making observations.”
“I didn’t realize this was your therapy center.”
“I didn’t realize that so many women have been in your bed. It seems like half of these, uh, talented young women in the room, know you personally.”
“I’ve never kept my past a secret.”
“No, but it is tricky when your past starts invading your present.”
I frown at him. “I don’t care about any of these girls.”
“You shouldn’t be telling me that.” He arches an eyebrow.
I glance at Vanya who’s across the room, talking to some of the guests.
“Why can’t you tell her that you love her?” Darrel asks me.
“Because I don’t want to hear that she doesn’t love me back,” I croak honestly. And admitting it out loud makes me feel like the biggest, stupidest idiot on the planet.
Darrel pats my shoulder.
“There you are.” Sunny gravitates to her husband’s side. She’s wearing a long, shimmery green dress with Mayan embroidery on the collar.
Darrel gives her a soft, intimate smile. He wraps an arm around her waist and drops a kiss on her forehead. “You enjoying yourself?”
“Yeah,” she says, biting down on her bottom lip like she’d rather be alone with him.
I clear my throat. “I’ll check if Sazuki’s arrived.”
“Alistair’s people are handling that,” Darrel says purposefully.
Sunny gives me a grim look. “Hadyn, I think you should talk to Vanya.”
“Do you know what’s going on with her?” I ask, hoping she can shed some light on what I did wrong.
Sunny shakes her head. “Not my place to tell.”
The music swells at that moment. Dejonae is pounding her life out on the keys. Sadness pours from every one of her notes. This song was a love letter written to the composer’s true love. Although he cared for her, they could never be together.
Restless and unsettled, I start to cross the room to get to Vanya. On the way, the ballroom doors burst open and a group of Asian men enter. They’re wearing suits and ties and they all follow on the heels of one guy in particular.
From his regal bearing, I know it’s Sazuki. He’s younger than I expected. Around the same age as Alistair. He’s tall and lean with a thick head of hair and sharp, angular facial features.
The way he scopes out Dejonae on the piano is almost wolfish and I instantly go on guard. From one man to another, that look never means anything good.
Dejonae’s fingers continue to move over the piano, completely oblivious to the newcomer. Her eyes are closed as if she’s in some other plane and her head is tilted back.
The guy pauses for a moment. And then he charges to the stage.
I’m moving toward them. To my left, Darrel is streaming forward too.
Max and Alistair are already ahead of us.
Sazuki and the bodyguards get to the stage first.
A murmur goes up from the crowd as the men in suits surround the piano, blocking Dejonae from sight.
Alistair tries to break in, but the beefy bodyguards don’t move a muscle.
“What the hell is going on in there?” Alistair hisses.
Darrel frowns over at him. “Is this Sazuki?”
“I thought you said he was a piano player, not a gangster,” Max mumbles. “What’s with the security?”
I hear a muffled conversation from behind the suits.
Vanya hurries to the stage and stands beside me. “Dejonae!”
A moment later, someone gets ejected from the circle of suits.
It’s Dejonae.
She’s trembling slightly. Her eyes are red-rimmed and she’s staring through the wall of human shields as if she can melt Sazuki’s face off with her fierce gaze alone.
“Are you okay?” Vanya runs to her.
Chest heaving, Dejonae scowls. “I’ve never met a man that rude in my entire life, but yeah, apart from that I’m fine.”
The guards part and form a straight line.
Sazuki appears again. His sharp eyes pierce Dejonae before darting away. In crisp English, he informs us, “No one is allowed to touch my piano.”
“That’s no excuse for throwing your weight around and scaring guests,” Alistair says brusquely.
“It’s okay,” Dejonae says, her voice shaking. “Don’t ruin the rest of the party on my account.”
I put my hand on her shoulder. “We can take them.”
That makes her smile. “I’m fine.” Her eyes lift to Sazuki’s. I swear I see smoke coming out of her ears.
Despite his cold demeanor, a corner of Sazuki’s lips ticks upward.
We leave the stage and, when I look back, I notice that Sazuki’s eyes are still on Dejonae.
“What did he say to you?” Vanya asks Dejonae as we gather in the crowd.
“Nothing I care to repeat,” she answers back.
Alistair takes the mike and gives a short introduction. Someone hits the lights. A lone spotlight shines on Sazuki’s bowed head.
The first note rings out.
And it’s enough to squeeze the entire room’s heart.
The second note grabs us by the throat.
When Sazuki puts all his hands on the piano, I realize why people would pay him millions for a chance to listen to him play.
Vanya’s eyes are stuck on Sazuki too. “Wow.”
“Wow is right.” Dejonae folds her arms over her chest and scowls. “Unfortunately.”
After the song, everyone climbs to their feet and applauds.
Dejonae glowers in Sazuki’s direction and then stomps away. “I need a drink.”
“Want me to come with you?” Vanya asks.
“No thanks.” Dejonae brushes her off.
I exchange a glance with Vanya. “What do you think he said to her?”
“It doesn’t matter what he said. What he did is more important.”
I get the feeling she’s not talking about Sazuki and Dejonae.
“Vanya.” I capture her hand.
She looks back with a glint of annoyance.
Alright. I’ve officially had enough of this crap. I’m done pretending there’s not a problem here.
“Meet me on the balcony in five minutes.”
She folds her arms over her chest, drawing my eyes straight to her cleavage. Her face is made up like a warrior’s. Her hair’s scraped back and her strong cheekbones glint like ice. She’s in a dress that could grace any catwalk in the world. And despite all that, she’s still got me reeling in irritation.
“Dejonae’s performance is over,” I remind her.
So what?” Vanya demands, stepping so close to me that I get a whiff of her sweet perfume.
I ignore the throb of longing that springs awake in my pants and focus on the conversation. “You obviously have something to say. So let’s put it out there.”
“If we leave, you’re going to pull me into a hotel room. You think I don’t know you?” She narrows her eyes. “I don’t have time for games, Hadyn.”
“Then stop playing them.”
“You’re the one making demands and acting like,” she realizes her voice is climbing, glances around with that stupid people-pleasing smile she always wears, and lowers her tone, “acting like the world revolves around you.”
My body tenses with the need to touch her, but I reign that impulse in like a pack of wild, untamed horses. She’s trying to push me into a fight right now, but I’m not going to take the bait.
“Five minutes.”
She looks me up and down. “What’s happening in five minutes?”
“You’re going to march that sexy, sparkly butt of yours out the door and onto the private balcony.”
Her eyes darken. She steps closer. “Or what?”
My brain is on the fritz. She’s standing toe-to-toe with me. Everything about her is trying the last of my patience. Her fragrance. The softness of her brown skin. The velvety cadence of her voice.
“Or I’m going to pick you up and carry you there. Not the way I did in Vegas for our honeymoon.” I lean down because I need to breathe her in. Need more of her scent. Need more of her skin. My voice drops to a whisper. “I’m going to pick you up and cart you over my shoulder.”
She scowls. “Why five minutes? Why not go caveman right now?”
“It’s so you can go and check on Dejonae. I know you’re worried about her.”
Her eyes narrow on me. She dips her chin once and stalks over to where Dejonae is chugging down champagne like tequila shots.
I walk to the balcony first. The moon is hidden behind the clouds, too afraid to show its face. The only light that dares to pierce the night are from the skyscrapers all over the city.
A shadow passes in front of the door and Vanya steps onto the balcony with me.
I shut the door behind her.
“Is that so no one can get out?” She points to it.
I clench my jaw. “Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“You’ve been avoiding me all day and ignoring my texts. Which is fine. I figured you were busy at the publishing house. But tonight, you can’t look me in the eyes. And you flinch when I touch you. I respect your right to be mad at me, but I’d like to know what you’re mad about so I can be better.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “There’s no ‘being better’, Hadyn. You keep acting like you want a family, but have you really stopped to think about what that means for your life? How much it’s going to change everything?”
“What have I been doing these past few weeks if not preparing for a family, Vanya?”
“I will not force myself into a relationship with someone because of a child. And I certainly won’t let one stupid mistake that we made in Vegas dictate my entire future.”
“Dammit, Vanya. Maybe it was a mistake that night, but it’s not one I regret. I would go back and marry you over and over again if you gave me a chance.”
She shakes her head slowly. “You’re speaking out of emotion—”
“Don’t. Don’t belittle my feelings for you just because you don’t want to accept them.”
Her eyes slip to the ground.
I stalk over to her, feeling the distance growing between us and not knowing how to bridge it. “Vanya, I love you. I’m in love with you.”
“No, you’re not.”
Everything inside me falls flat.
She lifts her chin and speaks coldly, “You like me because I’m the most convenient option. We’re already married. We already have a kid. You fell into this. But you didn’t choose me.”
“That’s not true.”
“We’ve been friends for a long time. You care about me and you care about Project Vegas. You mistakenly translated that to love. But I’m a grown woman, Hadyn. Not a child. And I will only accept love that is for me.” She taps her chest. “Not because of any other situation.”
Silence falls. Heavy. Final.
Vanya walks to the door.
“Is it that you don’t believe I love you,” I hiss, “or that you don’t love me back?”
Vanya goes still.
I march up to her, needing to hear her response.
“Vanya?” I prod.
Still she says nothing.
When I move in front of her, I notice her grimacing in pain. She’s got an arm around her stomach.
I grip her upper arms. “Vanya, what’s wrong.”
“Ah.” She folds over and hugs her stomach tighter. “It hurts.”
The blood drains from my face and my heart kicks into overdrive. “What hurts?”
“Ah!” She falls to her knees.
I’m panicking so hard that I start to shake. “Vanya!”
“Hadyn!” Her face twists in fear, pain and horror. “The baby. I think something’s wrong.”
