I have to say one thing about eccentric billionaires: they know how to throw a party. Or the professional team they hired do, but either way, this place is next level. Votive candles float in the massive swimming pool, a pair of swans strutting its perimeter. A jazz band is set up at one corner of the patio. Beyond the garden is an old-fashioned hedge maze lit with tiny twinkling lights, beckoning lovers to get lost in its winding depths, and I make a mental note to drag Justin back there later for a little late-night canoodling.
Plus, the food. Oh boy, the food.
I’m in heaven, staking out a corner of lawn right by the exit from the kitchens, so I’m first in line for all those trays of deliciousness. “Lobster roll?” one offers.
“Why yes, thank you.”
I snag two, and pluck a glass of champagne off a tray proffered by another waiter, then make my way through the crowd, feeling more relaxed than I have in days—weeks, even. Sure, it may not be a one hundred percent done deal, but I know in my gut the paper is safe thanks to Justin’s deal with Walter. And I’ve got the handsomest date at the party. All that’s left to do is enjoy myself, Daisy Buchanan style . . .
That is, without the car crashes, alcoholism, and violent deaths.
I find the man himself standing near an enormous ice sculpture talking to Walter and Suki, dashing in his tux. “There you are!” Suki trills when she sees me. She’s luminous in a long, ethereal white gown, her yellow-blonde hair braided into a complicated-looking crown on top of her head. “We were just asking your charming date where you’d gotten to.”
“I’m right here,” I smile, linking my arm through Justin’s. “Congratulations on the anniversary, you two!”
The four of us clink glasses, but Justin feels tense beside me. Poor guy. He’s probably on tenterhooks waiting to find out if this deal is going to fall through. I rub his back. “Everything OK?” I ask quietly.
“I’m good,” Justin replies, smiling tightly. “Let’s just get through the party.”
I look at him, concerned. “Is everything OK with the deal?”
“Everything’s fine.”
As reassurances go, it’s watery at best, but before I can press him any harder I spy Lucinda sashaying across the patio in our direction. “Pearl!” I call warmly, reaching out to steady her arm as she nearly trips over one of her dozen long, gauzy scarves. “How are you?”
“Oh, just fine, darling,” Lucinda purrs, half sex-kitten and half Miss Cleo. She’s laying it on thick, that’s for sure. “The stars are all aligning, can you feel it in the air tonight?”
“Is that so?” Justin sounds bitter.
“It is, darling,” Lucinda tells him. She reaches up and lays a hand on his face. “The stars are calling you toward happiness. All you have to do is make your way through the fog.”
Justin looks blank. “Let’s hope you’re right,” is all he says.
Lucinda saunters off to make her celestial rounds, and I feel another stab of guilt. This is ridiculous, I think to myself. It’s Justin. I don’t want to lie to him anymore. As soon as we get back to the city I’m going to come clean, tell him the whole ridiculous story over pizza and beer before making it up to him with a night of epic sex. There shouldn’t be any secrets between us.
And maybe he’ll find it funny.
Maybe.
For now, I just want to enjoy tonight. I take Justin’s hand as Walter makes his way to the top of the white stone staircase.
“I’d like to propose a toast,” he calls, raising his crystal champagne flute. “To my angel, Suki, my best friend and the love of my life. You’ve been my muse and my most trusted advisor since the very first day we met.” He smiles at her, true love radiating from his expression. “I believe it’s a first anniversary gift that’s traditionally meant to be made of paper, not your twentieth, but I’ve never liked to play by the rules. The Gazette is ours, my love. Well, a controlling stake, at least.”
I gasp, squeezing Justin’s hand in delight.
“We’re honored to be a part of the Gazette’s storied history as it enters a new era,” Walter continues, “led by a tenacious young CEO who’s deeply impressed me—and my advisory board—with his vision and good sense. Justin, I’m very much looking forward to a long and fruitful partnership with you and the Rockford Corporation.” He smiles out at the crowd, lifting his glass one more time as a cheer goes up and the band launches into an upbeat number. “Now let’s celebrate!”
I barely resist the urge to hoot like my dad at the deciding game of the World Series, I’m so happy. Relief floods through me like a drug. Walter’s on board to invest! The paper is safe. And now Justin and I can put this whole thing behind us and focus on what really matters.
The two of us.
I turn to him, but Justin’s gone. Is he at the bar, topping up our celebratory drinks? I lean up on my tiptoes, trying to find him in the crowd, but there’s no sign of him.
“Isn’t this fabulous?” Suki smothers me in a hug. “My Walter is so sweet, getting me everything I want.”
“The sweetest,” I say distractedly. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.”
I search the party for Justin, my confusion growing. He should be on top of the world, here with me. But when I finally find him, he’s alone on the veranda, looking contemplatively out to the sea.
“There you are,” I smile, handing him a glass of champagne. “I thought I’d come toast the guy who single-handedly just saved my favorite newspaper.”
Justin doesn’t smile. “My pleasure,” he says, holding the glass up in a sardonic salute before taking a big sip.
“What’s going on?” I ask. This should be the biggest night of his career—of both our careers. So why is he looking at me like he wishes I’d just slink back to Brooklyn already?
Justin only shrugs, his expression bitter. “You should know, shouldn’t you?” he asks. “Isn’t it written in the stars, Ms. LeFarge?”
Oh, shit.
My stomach drops.
He knows.
“Justin . . .” I take a step towards him, my heart racing. “Before you freak out, I can explain.”
“Explain what, exactly?” Justin asks harshly. His whole body is tense, like he’s barely holding his anger in check. “How you’ve been lying to me the entire time we’ve been together? Or how you used that ridiculous column to manipulate me to get what you wanted?”
“Wait a second.” I blink, taken aback. “Manipulated you? I never—”
“Trust your instincts?” he demands, quoting the column. “Stay the course? The hard road has the most rewards.”
“Please,” I beg him. “Just listen. Pearl disappeared when you took over the paper, that’s all. She literally went on a cruise and dumped her phone into the ocean! And her column was the one thing about the Gazette that everyone could agree was a positive, and I didn’t want to lose that. I was just going to cover for her until the end of summer.”
“So you just made it all up.”
“Like she did!” I protest. “And I wasn’t trying to manipulate you, I swear, I just . . .” I pause, guilty.
“Just what?” Justin’s face is steely.
I take a deep breath. “OK, I won’t lie—”
“For once,” he scowls.
I feel an ache. “It wasn’t a big evil masterplan, I promise. When I realized you were a fan of the column, I hoped maybe I could use the column to nudge you in the right direction,” I admit. “But only because everybody’s jobs were on the line. I would have done anything to save the paper!”
“Even lying to me.” Justin shakes his head, looking stormy. “I can’t believe I trusted you. I can’t believe I thought I was falling in love with you—” He breaks off, his voice rough and ragged as my heart aches. “But you’re no better than my father.”
That hits me hard. “Justin, no—“
“You think you can pull my strings and yank me around? Like I can’t think for myself!” Justin’s getting fired up now, and I can see the fraught emotion in his eyes.
“I’m sorry!” I protest. “But it wasn’t like that! The minute things got real between us, I stopped using the column like that,” I swear. “I would never have—”
“How am I supposed to know that?” he interrupts. “How could I trust anything you say to me ever again?”
“Justin—” I start, but he holds up a hand to stop me.
“You’re a liar and a fraud, Natalie, and you dragged me into it, too. Pearl’s column was just the first thing on a long list of shit that wasn’t real.”
That’s when someone clears his throat behind us.
I see Justin’s face change, and I know this can’t be good. But I don’t realize just how not-good until I slowly turn around and find Walter Vanderfleet himself standing not ten feet away, a cigar in his hand and a seriously unimpressed expression on his face.
Oh my God. He heard us.
He heard everything.
“Walter.” Justin’s face goes white. “We were just . . . uh . . .”
I can see him searching for an explanation, but there is none. “It’s my fault!” I blurt quickly. “Justin had no idea—”
But Walter holds up a hand, cutting me off. “I certainly don’t mean to interrupt what’s clearly a personal matter,” he says, brusque and businesslike. “But we should discuss the implications of all this for the Gazette—and for my investment.”
Oh, shit.
Panic floods my veins. I feel like I’m going to pass out. I’ve just ruined everything important in my life—everything I was working so hard to try and save—in one fell swoop.
And it’s all my fault.
Walter strides off, leaving us alone again. I turn back to Justin, reaching out to take his hand. “We can fix this,” I promise. It feels like I’m sliding down the edge of a mountain, desperate to find some kind of foothold. “You and me, we’re a team, right? We can—”
“Don’t,” Justin says, snatching his hand away. “There’s nothing to fix, Natalie. The paper, you and me—all of it is done.”
“Wait,” I beg, tears stinging in the back of my throat. Oh God, what have I done? “Justin, please—”
But he doesn’t stick around to hear my babbled apologies. No, he’s already walking away.
And he doesn’t look back.