Page 127 of One Wealthy Wedding

“I have good memories there. Mostly with you.” I smile at him. “But lots of bad ones. And I didn’t leave much I care about, except some things of my mother’s. Her earrings. Her diary. I would have liked to have those.” My words trail off as my chest tightens. My mom. I don’t think about her except when I’m alone. I don’t talk about her except occasionally with Blair. And now with Theo. “It was her diary that made me want the company, actually.”

“Yeah?” We turn a corner onto a larger street. There are shops here, and planter boxes spilling over with bright flowers, people going about their day.

“Yeah. My grandma gave it to me. My mom wanted to run Peterson International too, but she didn’t know how to stand up to my dad. In it, she said she wanted a different future for me.”

Theo’s jaw works, and his hand tightens on mine. I can’t read him. Is he upset? At me? For me?

“Do you miss her?” he finally asks.

“Every day,” I say.

He stops in the street.

“What are you—”

He hauls me against his chest before I can finish speaking. His heart beats steady under my cheek. He’s clutching me like I’ll disappear if he loosens his arms, and instead of being uncomfortable, it’s wonderful.

I told him to be an asshole to me, and he responded with this. I should push him away, but I don’t. Instead, I relax into his embrace.

I let Theo hold me in the middle of the street, and for the first time in a long time, it feels like things might be okay.

38

Theo

Lorenzo invites us to a gala that night. It’s a pre-race party, and the world’s elite are gathered in Lorenzo’s palatial seaside home. He lives just outside of Monaco, on the part of the coastline that belongs to France. The house is perched on a cliff, with terraced gardens, a hidden pool, and swaying palms. I tuck Cat into my side as we exit the limo. She’s wearing the pink dress, and she looks absolutely delicious. Soft and kissable, if a little uncertain.

“Nervous?” I murmur. “We won’t know anyone here.”

“I’m worried we’ll be caught,” she says. “I hate lying.” A uniformed man opens the door to the opulent home.

“We’ll be fine.” I run my fingers over her arm, and she shivers.

“This is amazing,” Lane says in an awed tone. “Maybe I should try to act casual, but I can’t. I need to take photos. Cat, want to join me?”

They head off for the terrace, and I’m stuck in the ballroom with Miles, who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else.

Jonah is already leading Callie to the bar, his eyes only for her. Miles watches them go with a faint smile.

“Never thought I’d see the day,” he says with a tilt of his head toward our friend.

“You sound like a satisfied mother hen,” I say.

Miles snorts. “I’m happy. Is it so terrible to want the same for my friends?”

“I suppose not.” I scan the room, looking for Lorenzo. He’s in the corner with his wife, talking to a few younger couples.

“You think he’ll invest?” I ask, tipping my head toward him.

“I’m not sure,” Miles says slowly. “I think he likes toying with us. With you. And my patience is running low.”

Mine too, but I’m paid to keep things easy, not rile my partners up. “You sound like Jonah,” I say.

Miles grins at me. “How’s it going with Cat?” he asks.

“You’re a nosy bastard,” I say lightly.

“And you’re keeping secrets,” he says.

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