Page 122 of Babies for the Christmas Grump
Just as I’m starting to settle back into the rhythm of the night, I seehim.
Vincent.
He’s standing in the doorway like he belongs here, as if this isn’t the last place on earth anyone would expect to see him.
I freeze, my stomach sinking. What thefuckis he doing here?
How the hell did he even get in?
I watch Vincent’s every move, a tight knot forming in my chest. He’s circulating the room like a vulture, making me feel sick.
I don’t have to wait long to hear it.
“…can you believe this? The hotel owes me a fortune… and Evie, God rest her soul, promised to pay me back. But now…” he pauses for effect, looking around before continuing, “now Sunny’s just pretending everything’s fine, acting like the place is going to be saved when they don’t even have the funds to stay afloat.”
My blood runs cold. Sothat’swhy he’s here.
This is it. This is where it all changes.
I can’t just let this slide.
I feel the anger building in my chest like a tide, swelling, threatening to break. Vincent, smug and self-satisfied, is peddling lies about Sunny and the hotel, using Evie’s memory as a pawn in his game.
Every word he says makes me want to hit him. Hard.
I watch him, hands clenching at my sides. I can’t let this go on any longer.
This is the same man who’s tried to break this hotel apart, who’s tried to manipulate Sunny into doing things she shouldn’t have to do, and now he’s using the very people he’s hurt to further his own agenda.
I could go over there and confront him. Throw him out. Call him out on his bullshit.
But that’s not going to do anything. Not here. Not in front of all these people, not without making a scene.
I need something bigger.
I didn’t plan on Sunny finding out what I’ve been up to in this manner, but I have no choice now.
My mind starts to work in overdrive, and that’s when it hits me.
I’ve been avoiding using my name and the fact that I have power and influence. But I’ve reached the point where I can’t pretend anymore.
If I want to protect this place, protect Sunny, protect Evie’s legacy, then I have to do it.
I grab my phone and text Nolan.I need journalists here—as many as possible.
It’s a risk. The last thing I want is for this gala to turn into a media circus. We want publicity, but not drama.
I’ve been standing in the shadows for too long, though. I’m done being quiet.
I step away from the crowd, trying not to draw attention, but I can feel the moment pressing down on me. I move quickly to the side of the ballroom, my heart hammering in my chest.
A few minutes later, I see the press swarm toward me, eager and ready.
They know me. They know my face. And tonight, I’m going to make sure they remember my name.
I walk back to the center of the ballroom, my pulse pounding. The chatter around the room dies down as I move through the crowd, everyone sensing something’s about to happen.
I take a deep breath. I don’t have a plan. Not really. But I know one thing: I have to get Vincent to stop talking. To stop poisoning everyone’s perception of the hotel, of Sunny, of Evie.
