Page 77 of Then Come Lies

He trailed off, and there was an awkward pause.

Adam just looked around. “So, where is he, then? Shouldn’t he be escorting you inside? The security at these things is usually pretty tight, you know.”

“I noticed.” I flailed a hand holding my cell phone. “Xavier had some business before, so we had to come separately. Now I can’t reach him, though, and for some reason, my name isn’t on the list. I don’t even know if Xavier’s in there, but now I’m officially late.”

I checked my watch, then looked around for the Rover, wondering if I could catch Ben in time to drive me to Parkvale, where I could trade this dress for a movie night with Sofia. Unfortunately, the car was nowhere to be seen.

“Don’t worry about it,” Adam said, offering his hand. “You can come in with me. We’ll find him.”

I eyed the hand, slightly wary. The last time I’d interacted with Adam, Xavier hadn’t exactly been friendly. Adam had tried to kiss me, much to my dismay, and hadn’t really taken no as an answer. He’d apologized, and then we’d run into each other a few more times at work and even, oddly, at Xavier’s last restaurant opening. Things were friendly. But I doubted that Xavier would appreciate me walking in like I was Adam’s date and not his.

Adam’s brown eyes blinked kindly, as if none of the previous awkwardness between us had ever occurred.

I glanced back at the doorwoman. What were my choices here? Ben had driven off, I didn’t have his number, Xavier wasn’t answering his phone, and there was no way I could afford an Uber to take me all the way back to Parkvale.

“All right,” I said and allowed Adam to weave his fingers with mine. “Thank you.”

“No problem. And Frankie?”

“Yes?”

Adam’s brown eyes glowed warmly. “If he doesn’t tell you tonight…that dress…wow.”

I blushed. Less than two hours ago, I’d eschewed Regina’s cupcake-pink monstrosity in favor of a dress and some costume jewelry I’d found last minute at Topshop that afternoon. It wasn’t exactly couture, but it was the best I could do on short notice without Xavier’s unlimited budget. More importantly, I felt like me in it rather than some kid playing dress up.

I blushed, relieved to know my efforts weren’t a complete failure. “Oh. Thank you.”

“No,” Adam said eagerly. “Thank you.”

* * *

It wasn’tthe kind of ball you’d expect to see in an Austen adaptation, but it wasn’t that far off either. Ortham House was appropriately decadent, a nineteenth-century neoclassical manor dripping with ridged columns, bright white millwork, and crystal chandeliers in every room. All the men were dressed in full tuxedos, the women wore floor-length gowns, and a quartet was playing lively covers of pop music in the corner while caterers flitted about the rooms with trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres.

As Adam led me into the ballroom with my hand tucked into the crook of his elbow, it was obvious that people noticed. Not just me, but him too. They were looking at both of us. Together.

“Adam,” I whispered.

“Yeah?”

“You’re not just a teacher, are you?”

He chuckled and patted my hand. “Tonight, I’m just your friend, like I always was. Nothing more.”

“I still think people are noticing you.”

“They’re noticing you, Frankie.” He swiped a couple glasses of champagne from a server passing by and handed one to me. “For one, they probably saw the paper this morning.”

I paused, flute to my lips. Dread burrowed into my stomach. “What was in the paper?”

Adam looked uneasy. “Shit, you didn’t see?” Fumbling a bit, he pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket, then did a quick search before handing it to me. “It’s, um, why I thought maybe you were here alone.”

There it was. Right across the top of theDaily Mail’s local gossip page:

‘Frankie’s no duchess. Trust me, I raised her.’

‘The truth is, Frankie is the coldest of her sisters,’ said Guadalupe as she dabbed away tears with a tissue. ‘I’m not saying I’ve never made mistakes. Everyone has. But she won’t even let her own daughter meet her abuela. She thinks family is a joke and refuses to even meet my eye when we speak. It’s been like that her entire life, the entire time I raised her. I really think something must be wrong with her.’

I gawked at the article, scrolling down to the end. It was a hit piece, an exclusive interview with theMailabout me, Sofia, and Xavier…given by none other than Guadalupe Ortiz.

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