“We love you, Serena.”
CHAPTER 29
Serena
The air wasthick with the smell of old money—a blend of leather and pipe tobacco, tempered by the sharp, clean scent of recently mown grass.
One foot in front of the other. Smile. Nod. Don’t trip.
The breeze, warm and gentle as silk, rolled off the hills, whispering through the tented canopies and rustling the crisp white uniforms of the valet attendants, carrying with it the faint sounds of distant music and laughter. The sound of hooves across turf pounded like a heartbeat.
I could feel the tension in my calves from walking too precisely in heels that werejusta little too high for the turf. Stupid. I should’ve gone with the thicker heel. But Gigi said I’d need to look polished and sexy, and the stilettos went best with the dress.
My palms were sweating. My throat was tight.
I shouldn’t be nervous. This was like any other job, right? And this was the last time. I promised myself that. No matter what.
Three violins played by the main tent, their music carrying on the wind. Beneath the linen of my dress, my purse pressedagainst my hip, the weight of the velvet box inside a silent reminder.
I took a deep breath through my nose. Held it. Released.
You’re Serena fucking King. You’ve walked into worse rooms with a bigger target on your back. You know how to finish.
The grass crunched softly beneath my heels as I moved toward the VIP tent, spine straight, hips relaxed, mouth curved in that calculated, unreadable smile.
But a very familiar laugh made me pause.
No.
I turned and made eye contact with Mayor Dante Castillo.
Fuck.
He stood in the center of a small circle, an entourage around him. He tipped back his drink, his dark hair glinting in the sunlight, and I saw a woman place a hand on his shoulder.
“Serena?” I heard Dante say.
I drove almost three hours to get here. What was Dante doing here? Did Jenese do this on purpose?
The laughter in his circle faded as I approached.
“SerenaWhitmore,” he mused, tilting his glass in my direction. “To what do I owe this pleasure? Are you here with your?—”
I offered a professional smile. “Mayor Castillo.”
“No need to be formal. Not here.” He glanced at the men and women around him—people who I assumed were low-tier celebrities, city planners, donors, and one I swore I’d seen in a leaked article about offshore accounts.
“Give me a minute,” Dante said to them with that easy charm. “You all go grab another drink. On me.”
They peeled off like trained birds, laughing and murmuring as they made their way back to the bar. He didn’t look at them. His eyes were on me.
“What are you doing so far south of Lush?” I asked.
“What areyoudoing here?”
“I don’t think my mama would like this. You know she prefers the mayors that keep it professional.”
A dark look flashed across his face, his jaw tightening as his eyes lost their warmth. “Yvonne doesn’t agree with a lot of my methods. I’m guessing as her favorite daughter you share the same opinion.”