Page 112 of Tame Me

Dain exits first and slides his hand into mine once I’ve got out of the car. The contact strengthens me, stirs me, my pulse regulates to match his—albeit a touch faster than normal for us both. He pulls me closer against his side.

‘Is it true you’re a father, Dain?’ someone calls.

Startled, I glance up. I spot a camera. Then another. Someone else calls his name. I look, but I’m aware Dain doesn’t. He knows not to.

I’m shocked. I realise how galling this must be for him—he’s so intensely private but his secret—Lukas—is known. And he’s being forced to be seen with me. To presentmein public. My pulse skitters but he keeps us both moving until we’re inside. I desperately try to slow my breathing but it’s impossible because there are people...so many beautiful people.

I blink. Swallow. Straighten.

The bar is sophisticated. Its decor features that luxurious green with discreet gold trim in sumptuous curves and heavy marble countertops. A gleaming display showcases some of the oyster, lobster and caviar they serve. Bottles of champagne line the back wall. There’s ice everywhere—the diamond kind as well as frozen water providing a bed for the ocean’s delicacies. I freeze on the inside. I thought I was used to billionaire bashes from my time waitressing at exclusive Queenstown venues but this is next level. While it’s intimate, there’s a raft of people present, each one obviously very important, very sophisticated. They’re the sleek elite. But they all revere Dain. They watch him, listen close, their bodies angle towards him—seeking his attention. I see it and understand it. Mine does the same.

And he’s just swept in—effortlessly stalking past the press, effortlessly commanding the entire place.

We’re offered champagne in fine crystal flutes. Dain introduces me but their names and faces are a blur in less than a second. Some are politicians. Some are society mavens. Some are models—at least they look it.

The noise of chatter renders words inaudible as I surreptitiously try to take it all in and note how they’re all staring not so surreptitiously at me. I feel like a lamb who’s been led into a wolves’ den. But that’s wrong, right? I’m just overwhelmed. Surely these people are nice and I’m being silly.

He doesn’t relinquish my hand and, full disclosure, I can’t help clinging onto him. But I don’t want to rely on Dain for my confidence. Surely I can handle this myself.

Only I’m in awe of everyone’s elegance. They’re exquisitely vivacious, effervescent yet refined. They glitter gracefully and it comes so naturally to them. My stomach sinks. Dain’s privileged and powerful and he should have a partner who doesn’t only hold her own but is anassetto him. I’ve an awful feeling I’m a liability. Any of the stunning women here would be a better partner for him than me. They’re all used to this scene and they don’t just handle it, they shine.

I’m suddenly grateful there’s a time limit because of the play. Dain introduces me to the director of the theatre and the head of fundraising and I really try to make their names stick in my mind. Mischa and Chloe. They ooze glamorous, effortless chic. We converse about nothing very much as perfectly attired waiters offer specially curated pairings of oysters and champagne. The shellfish have been prepared in several ways. The vibe screams understated, indulgent luxury but these people don’t even blink. They’re not just used to such rare and expensive nibbles, they’re connoisseurs of them.

After a while Dain gets collared by a man wanting a quick quiet word. From dinner with his parents, I know what that means. The guy wants money. Dain glances at me apologetically but I send him a smile of reassurance. I can do this. I don’tneedhim. I only have to listen and smile, right?

I talk more to Mischa and Chloe, but Chloe’s gaze follows Dain. My spine prickles and I can’t help looking her over. Her dress is beautifully fitted and clearly couture, her hair and make-up sublime, she’s wearing a stunning emerald pendant and her hands are beautifully manicured. My nails are neat but only because they’re seen in my videos. Hers are stunning.Allof her is stunning. She catches me staring.

‘Have you been to Dain’s island?’ she asks with a smile that makes me shiver a little.

‘Um...no. Not yet.’

What island? I didn’t even know there was an island.

‘It’s amazing.’ She nods as if she’s doing me a favour in telling me this. ‘You’re going to love it. Dain’s done such a wonderful job rebuilding the house there.’

And she knows because she’s been to stay? That’s...great, and all of a sudden I’m reminded of the water-skiing day. I’m the charity case again—the one who doesn’t really fit in.

‘Youmustget him to take you,’ she adds. ‘I prefer the helicopter to the jet. It’s faster.’

There’s a helicopter as well? I don’t ask. I just feel ignorant and increasingly out of place.

Our passion in the car on the way here was an ephemeral, false assurance. I shouldn’t care what any of these people think about me. Talia of a year ago wouldn’t have. But now I feel so very vulnerable. He’s more powerful than I imagined and I don’t think I can step up to this public plate and stand beside him.

‘It’s best when Dain is piloting.’ Chloe looks at me with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. ‘Did he fly you here from New Zealand?’

I know I’m not handling this well, but I’ve been around people like Chloe before. I smile and swipe out with my claws, just a little. ‘We were busy in the cabin.’

Her eyebrows lift ever so slightly. ‘With a crying baby?’

‘Actually, Lukas slept for the whole flight.’

‘I bet he’s very advanced for his age,’ Mischa says with a genuine smile.

‘Yes,’ Chloe agrees with venomous enthusiasm. ‘After all, his mother isveryclever.’

She takes another sip of champagne. Inhibitions are down and tongues are looser than they were when we first arrived and even the best manners in the world can be lost.

‘You make coffee, is that right?’ Chloe asks.

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