Page 6 of Confusing Cade
Squaring my shoulders, I pasted a smile on my face and unhooked the front clasp of my bra.
FOUR HOURS LATER
“You look amazing,” Kyra said as our rented black town car pulled up to the valet line. “I wish I’d bought that dress.”
“Thanks.”
I looked at the cascading black chiffon skirt puddling at my feet. After my live event on FanZone, wearing this much clothing felt odd. Then, I’d been naked. Now, I was dressed to the nines. I pushed my discomfort about this away. The trick to this was to compartmentalize things, and to keep one side of my life from bleeding into the other. The dress was haute couture and a huge splurge, but I had to agree with my best friend. It fit like it was made for me. Besides, now that my bank account wasn’t dangerously low, I could afford some pretty things.After what I’ve been through, I deserve it.
“It feels nice to wear it. Kind of like being in my old life for one night.”
Kyra pursed her lips and took my hand in hers. “Thank you for coming tonight. It means a lot.”
“You’re welcome.” I stared out the window at the large estate ahead. It was Italian revival, with lots of arches and a wroughtiron entrance gate flanked by security guards with earpieces. Once, places like this were a regular part of my life. Now, I was just glad to be here and thankful that Kyra had invited me.I really don’t deserve her.“I’ve already told you it’s not your fault, and you can’t change what happened to my dad.”
“I’m glad you came.” Kyra squeezed my hand. “It’s a lot easier with you here.”
That night, I was Kyra’s plus-one, and an invite to fill one of the extra tickets her family had in spades at this fundraiser for the National Breast Cancer Research Foundation. Kyra never liked attending formal evenings, but her father had insisted on this one, and she gave in to his demands in exchange for a truce from their biggest battle, which centered on his disgust over her choice to manage a bar instead of earning a degree from Princeton. If he didn’t needle her too much about her life decisions, she promised to attend at least this high-end party during the Palm Beach winter social season.
“I’ll be your wing woman anytime,” I replied as the car pulled to a stop at the red-carpet entrance. “But maybe I’ll rent a dress next time.”
She laughed and we exited, stepping onto the plush tapestry threads that wound through bougainvillea and past manicured palm trees before opening to a wide lawn overlooking the ocean, a zero-entry pool, and a stone patio dotted with large terra cotta pots. I estimated a few hundred of Palm Beach’s most connected couples filled the open space between the pool and the beach. Above us, hundreds of Italian lights threaded through the large palm trees, the night sky casting a warm glow on the immaculately dressed crowd.
I paused when I stepped from the edge of the carpet onto the thick grass. Anticipation curled in my stomach. God, it had been so long since I’d dared to show my face at something like this. Was I out of practice? Would I know what to do?
Here goes nothing.
Taking a glass of champagne from a nearby waiter, I threaded through the edge of the crowd. Many of the faces were familiar. By the bar near the corner, Stetson Rothschild and his wife, Stella. Behind him, Newton Price and his long-suffering girlfriend. Still farther away were the Andersons, with Braxton Anderson in tow, no doubt home for the holiday from Columbia. All these people had once been part of my family’s social circle, clawing and scraping for a piece of my dad’s success. But that night, not one of them seemed to recognize me.
Which didn’t bother me one bit.
I hadn’t expected them to realize who I was. After all, it had been years since they’d seen me, and back then, I’d only been a gangly and introverted teenager. Now, I was a woman, but instead of being the center of attention, I was only here to observe and reminisce. I was an outsider looking in, and that was exactly the way I wanted it.
Kyra stopped to chat with Jim Hudson, her father’s leading business partner, and I used the moment as an excuse to make my way to the silent auction adjacent to the pool house front door. Whoever had put together the items for bidding had done a fantastic job, and I marveled at the six long tables teeming with offerings. Everything from designer handbags to luxury vacation packages was displayed, along with QR codes and signs explaining the minimums required. There had to be at least a few hundred thousand dollars’ worth of items on offer.
“Did you sign up at the front?”
The thick, deep baritone voice made me jump, then turn toward it. My answer died in my throat.Oh, holy shit.
“Hi,” Cade Weston said.
I would have recognized him anywhere. I might have changed in the decade since I’d last seen him, but the years had hardly altered his features. Same thick brown hair andsmoldering eyes. Same square shoulders and a hint of a smirk on his full lips. And the same quality of designer suit.
Fucker.
“Hi.” I narrowed my eyes.Do I hear recognition in his voice? Something in his tone...
“I didn’t see your name on the guest list,” he added.
My toes curled inside my new strappy sandals.He does remember me.“I’m a plus one.”
Cade lifted his chin, and the overhead Edison lights highlighted the hint of stubble. “Well, it’s nice to see you again, Bella.”
I stiffened at the way he pronounced my nickname. If it had been anyone else, I might have liked it, and I might have welcomed the round richness of the way it sounded in Cade’s naturally low octave. But this washim, Cade Weston, the son and heir of the one person who defeated my father in a business deal.
And consequently, ruined my life.
He was my enemy.
