“You’re canceling it?” Lottie’s face crumpled. “Tonight?” Lottie was the perfect high society woman. She didn’t show emotion. She didn’t lose face. She didn’t start scenes.
So seeing her cry in public was a shock and made me feel like fucking shit.
“That’s good. That’s…good.” She sniffed, covering her mouth and wiping away a stray tear. Back to the picture of perfection.
Still, she looked so broken and beat down. I’d loved Lottie and I’d never intended to fall out of love with her.
“Lottie…”
I didn’t know what words to say to make this better.
To fix it.
“I said get it out of your system…I just didn’t think you’d call it off. I’m a little shocked. I shouldn’t want to be married to someone who doesn’t want me, right? I even tried so hard to convince my father,” she said. “I told my brother and my father I didn’t want to marry you anymore, but…you know. It doesn’t matter. You’re canceling it. I’m sorry. I didn’t have the guts.” Her shining eyes met mine. “I’m sorry I realized it too late. It was always you for me, too, Grayson.” She smiled weakly. “I hope you’re happy with her.”
“Lottie, shit.” I messed up my hair. “You’re perfect. You’ll find someone so much better than me.”
She looked into her champagne. “When will you tell them?”
My mother’s gaze had shifted from me to Snitch. She set down her glass of champagne, and I could see the wheels turning.
“No, I canceled it,” I said. “It’s done.”
Her brow collapsed, and her head shot up. “But tonight—”
“Can we finish this later?”
“Of course, Grayson.”
STORY
* * *
Grayson has been gone for ten minutes, and the last time I saw him he was with Lottie.
I keep telling myself he chose me.
He chose me.
I have nothing to worry about.
But that doesn’t calm my nerves.
At least my dress is the best camouflage. People would never expect Story Hale to be here, dressed the way I am. So far I’ve blended in beautifully next to a row of books.
I eavesdropped on the conversations like back when I was a servant, and, still, the things the rich and famous say are quite…dull.
There is no truth to their words.
Honesty. Bloody, raw, jagged truth.
I shivered at the memory.
“Story?” West du Lac’s voice made me freeze. I stared straight ahead, hoping he would think he was mistaken.
“Story, I know that’s you.”
Shit.