Page 32 of Dauntless

He smiled. “Yes, I did. It’s easier said than done.” He dropped his towel and came inside, then started soaping over my back.

“But we’ll get through it,” I said. “I’ll get through this negative press, and you’ll have Melinda.”

“And Angel,” he said softly. “I believe once she’s back here with me, her friends, and her family, she’ll get better.”

I nodded. In my heart, I wanted that too, which was why I decided to divert my attention to Angel’s homecoming show.

For the next few days, with Dane’s help, I was fully involved and partook in the event’s planning and production. The designers even agreed to include Perfetto’s makeup in Angel’s segment of Justus’ show. I was also at Bryant Park for an early walkthrough of Justus’ show. The practice wasn’t as glamorous as the final showing, but it kept me engaged. The energy was high at the show and time flew by quickly. The best part of being there was observing, and at times, going backstage with Angel’s mentor’s team. Thankfully, the subject of the video never came up throughout. Although correspondences from Stuart hinted that it was still circulating online.

When the rehearsal ended, I headed toward the place Tove had arranged for me to stand in wait for the car. Before the back of the hall, I was sure I saw Dane pass ahead of me. He had mentioned he’d try to meet me but had been busy with work and Melinda. I wondered if he had broken away to surprise me.

I weaved through the crowd to catch up to him. “Dane!” I called out, but he didn’t stop, he just kept moving with the crowd as if he hadn’t heard me. My brows knitted as I rushed to draw near him. He was about to cross into the open reception when I finally reached his side and touched his arm to call his attention. That was when I realized my mistake. The man had the same build with Dane, but he was older, his face lined and had grey hair at his temples.

I was deflated. “Sorry. I thought you were someone else,” I told him.

His silvery eyes widened, and a grin crossed his face. “You were looking for my son, Dane?”

I quickly grasped that he was Dane’s father, Walter Prescott. “Yes. Actually,” I introduced myself, and he did in kind by shaking my hand.

“I had hoped to run into him here. Since I hear there is to be an Angelica Browne show?” His voice raised questioningly, though I was sure he knew the answer.

Still, I nodded in agreement. “You know Angel?” I asked politely.

“I do,” he answered. “Such a shame what happened to her.” His tone was empathetic though there was no change in his cheery demeanor.

I shook my head. “Yes, it is. Anyway, it is nice meeting you.”

I was about to move off when he suddenly gripped my arm. His mouth twisted into a smirk. “Was it nice meeting me? From your sour expression, I’d say you believe the stories. There are many sides to stories. You, of all people, should know that now.”

I tugged out of his hold, and he let it go. The way he looked at me now made it clear he knew who I was before I introduced myself. He must have seen the video.

My face heated, but I kept my head leveled with his. “What I know is that it’s not over and I’ll have my day in court to make whoever dared to hurt me and any of the other women regret it.”

“Courts aren’t about justice, little one. They’re about money,” he said in a haughty tone. “Connections, too. I hope the best for you.”

I squinted. “I’ve got both, so I don’t need or appreciate your arrogance. They’ll regret the day they met me and anyone else who tries to hurt me. I was being polite because you’re Dane’s father, but you’ve worn out that courtesy. Now if you would excuse me.”

His nostrils flared. “Careful. Unlike Dane, I don’t enjoy hysterics. Control yourself and stop causing a scene,” he glanced around like I had brought attention to the two of us, but found no one looking in our direction.

“Gia,” One of the male head organizers came rushing out of the crowd. “Would you please come back in? We’d love to get your feedback.”

Walter strolled away, not waiting for my response, to join another group of suits, seamlessly blending in. If there is something I could take away from the conversation, meeting him, and his demeanor, it’s that if he could have his life back after ruining the lives of many, how would I fare against other powerful men like him?

Would The Agency win?

***

It took another week before I chose a salon and settled on a new hairstyle. My almost jet black wavy hair was lightened to brown and flat-ironed straight, so it hung just past my shoulders. I did a double take when the stylist held up the mirror, then was overjoyed. I immediately reached into my bag for my phone, took a selfie and sent it to Astrid. Her response came back quick.

Astrid: Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?

I literally laughed out loud.

Gia: LOL No seriously? Too light?

Astrid: Not at all. You look gorgeous, sophisticated. Chic, like a New Yorker ??

Gia: Already? I’ve only been here a couple of weeks.

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