Page 115 of Railing the Billionaire

We could not-belong together.

I gave his arm a squeeze with my elbow, a gesture I hoped he would know meant I had his back.

The walls were adorned with intricate woodwork details. Beautiful crystal chandeliers dangled from the high ceiling and shimmered in the muted light. Gala-goers approached us, weaving between tall, glass-topped display tables that dotted the space.

I put on my public persona, my inner tiger warrior. I smiled and pretended that I belonged. Harold shadowed us, keeping his distance, but always watching.

“Gabriel Stryker, I wasn’t sure you’d actually show,” a small woman with beautiful white hair said. She was a good foot shorter than me, and she was decked out in a mountain of animal fur. There were at least three creatures wrapped around her neck alone, and another crossing from her shoulder to her middle.

I found myself caught in the dead-eyed stare of one of her furry scarves—a striped purple and black raccoon-like creature with a curly mustache over sharp fangs and the most ferocious snarl to ever grace a faux face.

For basically a long, deflated plushy, it looked crazy real. That was true craftsmanship.

“Gabriel not show?” I said, forcing myself to look away from the creature. “And miss all of this? I hear he’s receiving an award tonight.”

The woman’s gaze flicked to me. She assessed me up and down before she deemed me worthy of a response. “Trust me, that’s not enough to pull him from the lab. At least not usually. Perhaps it’s you.”

“Me?”

“I’ve seen the pictures on the computer,” she said. “Heard the rumors, too.”

“It’s easy for strangers to be cruel online, when there are no repercussions for that cruelty,” I said.

She smiled. It wasn’t exactly a kind smile, but it did seem genuine. “You’re a television star.”

It wasn’t a question. Still, I answered, “I was on a show. It’s over now.”

“I like you. Maisel Turnbottom.” She offered her hand.

I shook it. “Layana Hartley.”

“Don’t let him run off before we give him his award.”

“I won’t.”

She gave me a curt nod and sauntered off to talk to someone else.

“She’s the curator of the museum,” Gabriel said softly into the crook of my neck.

I turned around slowly. “She seems….”

“Horrible.”

“I was going to say lovely.”

He raised a brow.

“And eccentric.” I smiled at him. “She gets a pass for just about anything because she thinks I’m awesome.”

“There you are.” Jasper rushed toward us. “You two okay?”

Gabriel took in a deep breath. He seemed both more relaxed and more uptight with Jasper joining us.

“We’re good,” I told him.

Jasper glanced at Gabriel. Gabriel nodded.

“Great. We need to get you around to see everyone before you flip out and run away,” Jasper said.

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