Page 35 of Perfectly Wrong

Right, of course. You find your son’s girlfriend—who’s ten years older than him—coming out of his bedroom, and it’s no big deal. Yeah, right.

“For the love of God, Martin!” I groaned. “Please tell me you were at least the one who did the laundry. I’m begging you!”

He pressed his lips into a thin line, trying not to laugh, and I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Do you want me to lie or tell you the truth?” His voice was full of amusement, which only made things worse.

“Tell me a damn lie.” I pushed my half-eaten dinner into the trash, my appetite gone.

“Yes, I did the laundry,” he said, and I leaned against the kitchen counter, staring at the wall. I felt his hands slide up my arms and rest on my shoulders, giving me a much-needed massage. “Relax. My parents know there’s a part of my life that’s private, and they’re okay with that. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

Sam kissed the back of my neck and gently turned me to face him.

“Come home with me,” he whispered.

“I am home,” I grumbled, still feeling annoyed.

He rolled his eyes. “Come to your second home, then. Or third, if you count your parents’ place.”

“I’m never setting foot in that apartment again, Martin,” I vowed. “Never. God, your mom did my laundry!”

“Of course she did,” he said, taking the dishes to the dishwasher. “Do you really think I know how to do laundry? I have no clue how that machine works.”

I buried my face in my hands. “This is so embarrassing!”

I couldn’t decide what was worse: bumping into Katherine—who probably heard me in the shower and drying my hair—or having her son deliver my freshly laundered clothes, which she had washed herself. I felt his arms wrap around me and couldn’t help but laugh. When I looked up, he had a goofy grin, and I couldn’t keep from laughing too.

“But she really did like you,” he said proudly, and I rolled my eyes. “Oh, and I almost forgot. I have something for you. My mom dropped it off this morning.”

“What?” Please don’t let it be some family heirloom.

Sam went to the living room and came back holding a black velvet box. “Her best friend owns the jewellery store where I got it.” He handed me the box, and I opened it, my eyes widening. “It’s simple, like I promised. I hope you like it.”

Inside was a pair of earrings that sparkled like they were made of stars. They were just two square 5-carat diamonds set in white gold. Elegant, understated, and they would look perfect with the sequins on my dress.

“Do you like them?” His voice sounded nervous.

I pulled him in by the neck, kissing him softly. “I love them! Thank you!” He let out a sigh of relief. “But I’m still not over bumping into your mom this morning!”

Sam laughed loudly and pulled me into a hug, lifting me off the kitchen floor and spinning me around, making me giggle like I hadn’t in years.

I stared at the woman in the mirror, completely mesmerized. I smiled, and she smiled back, the black dress hugging her curves perfectly. My hair was styled in a loose updo, leaving my back exposed, and the diamond earrings shimmered as I checked my makeup. My eyes were dark and defined, balanced by a subtle nude lipstick. I had to admit it: I looked hot as hell.

My phone buzzed with messages. One was from Sam, asking to see my dress, but I declined. He’d just have to wait and see it in person. Another was from the driver hired by Icon Records, confirming he was outside. John’s message said he was stuck in a meeting and would be a little late.

We’d agreed to meet at the party, and that was that. I slipped my phone and lipstick into my clutch and headed out, a mix of excitement and nerves bubbling inside me.

Fifteen minutes later, the driver pulled up in front of the Four Seasons, one of Toronto’s most luxurious hotels. The decorations were stunning—white flowers, black tablecloths, and gold accents everywhere. It was miles ahead of last year’s event. The hostess guided me to my team’s table. Sam wouldn’t be sitting with us, as the artists had their own section.

As I approached, I saw Vicky, Morgana, and Peter already seated.

“My. God. In. Heaven,” Peter exclaimed. “Who are you, and what have you done with our Elena?”

I threw my head back, laughing. “Hey, once a year, we can work miracles, right?”

The table erupted in laughter. Soon, Matt and Katie joined us, and we were deep in conversation about the decor and everyone’s outfits when Morgana sighed dreamily.

“Here he comes.”

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