Page 66 of Cruel Fate

I’ll be expected to pick up our bill, but it’s something I can’t let myself get bitter about. My father was always happy to pay in a show of goodwill and Maddox hospitality. He didn’t question the motives of the people we socialized with, and I need to remember to do the same.

Chase drapes his arm across the back of Mina’s chair. A diamond the size of a small rock hangs from her slender neck on a chain so delicate I can barely see it. Under the table, I hold Stella’s hand. She’s being a good sport...I’ll thank her later.

“We were excited to receive the party invite,” Chase says, leaning forward. “It’s going to be the event of the year.”

“I doubt that,” I say skeptically.

We party all the time. Charity dinners, fundraisers, casual social gatherings, and private dinner parties. My gala announcing I’m finally ready to step into my father’s place—though with every day that goes by I feel less and less prepared—won’t be anything new. Zarah ordered the best of the best, but that isn’t anything new, either. If there’s a way to spend money, we find it.

It churns my stomach knowing Stella grew up with nothing.

Squeezing her hand tighter, I lean back and give the sommelier room to pour. He offers me the first sip and I nod, not tasting the fizz on my tongue.

“So far, we’ve had all acceptances, no declines,” Stella says, joining the conversation. “It will be nice to put some faces to the names.”

I’m proud of her for speaking up. Because of her limited background, what I’m asking her to do isn’t easy.

We order our meals, and she and Mina start chatting.

I relax.

I don’t know Chase well, and I ask him how things are going at Black Enterprises. He tells me about various projects Ash and his father, Clayton, are working on, and the conversation bores me. The information isn’t anything I wanted to know.

My father would tell me to keep my head in the game. To listen, because you never know when something could be used later. My ears do perk up when Chase mentions Clayton met Denton for drinks last night. He saw the two of them sitting at a corner table at the Alibi Lounge, a swanky downtown basement bar Clayton owns. Tongue-in-cheek, he renamed it after it became a popular place for men to hide their mistresses away tosip on a cocktail and indulge in a little something on the side in the back. In this case, it’s an apt name as well.

It’s interesting news. News I especially didn’t want to hear. If my father were still alive, I wouldn’t think anything of it, but now that my dad’s gone, I don’t know what the two of them would have to discuss.

The implications make me queasy, and the steak I ordered doesn’t sound good anymore. I catch our waiter’s attention and order a whiskey. The champagne isn’t enough. There could be a traitor under the roof of Maddox Industries.

“Did they see you?” I ask.

“Nope—I was lying low myself, but I found it curious.”

“I do, too. If you could keep it to yourself, I would appreciate it. Sounds like I need to do some snooping around and hope it doesn’t lead to damage control.”

“Yeah, no problem. I don’t want Clayton breathing down my neck, anyway. The last thing I need is to get mixed up in his business. I like being able to walk.”

Stella looks at him sharply, interrupting Mina and her explanation of what the Women’s League is and what they do. “What do you mean?” she asks, clutching my leg under the table.

“He was joking, Stella,” I say, patting her hand. “Clayton isn’t dangerous.”

Chase hoots. “You don’t know the same Clayton Black, then. The Blacks have a reputation for being ruthless because they are.”

I knock back my whiskey and gesture for another. “I’ve been friends with the Blacks my whole life,” I say, but Chase shakes his head.

“Then you should know better than anyone.” He eyes my whiskey. “I need one of those, too.”

Mina changes the subject. “Business talk is boring. Where will you and Zarah spend the holidays this year?”

Reluctantly, I shift gears. I want to pump Chase for more information about what he thinks Denton and Clayton were talking about, and besides, I haven’t thought much of the holidays. They’re too far away to concern me right now. This will be our first Christmas without Mom and Dad. We used to go to St. Barth’s every year. We have a standing reservation.

Now, I don’t know. It won’t feel right to celebrate.

I’d like to shut out the world and spend two weeks making love to Stella, but the gala and announcement will change things. People will want to see me, look for, and find proof, that I’m competent and moving on, planning to grab the new year by the throat.

“We might throw a dinner party.” Maybe that will be a compromise between doing nothing and traveling out of the country. Zarah may like opening the penthouse to guests for the holidays, and we need to reconnect with old friends and start making new ones. All of our business contacts are our parents’. It’s time to carve out our own niche in the city.

Stella cuts a bite off the chicken breast she ordered and says nothing.