“First of all,” she begins, “you look gorgeous, Brielle. I know everyone always looks forward to seeing your elegant styles every year.”
I glance quickly over at William and smile before focusing back on her. “Thank you, Charlotte. This year I’ve done things a little differently.”
Charlotte beams. “How so? Please tell me.” Her gaze roams down my dress with fascination. “I can already tell your style is different this year. New designer?”
“It is,” I answer happily. Then I look up at William. “This is William Ashton, the designer of everything you’ll see me wearing this season. He’s a dear friend of mine.”
As soon as the other reporters hear what I say, more cameras flash all around us. Charlotte gasps and holds the microphone toward William, asking him a slew of questions just like a gazillion of the other reporters. It’s nice to have the focus on someone other than me for a change.
Once we’ve answered everyone’s questions, we make our way through the house. There are so many people it takes us a while to get through them all. I introduce William to everyone we pass, several of who want William to design their dresses for next year.
“I’m starting to think I’ll never get back to New York,” William says, laughing.
I squeeze his arm. “Is that so bad? You’ll be here with me.”
He winks and gazes around the room. “And all these handsome gentlemen.” Speaking of handsome gentlemen, I search the room for the one person I wondered if I’d see. Colby Hensley. I shouldn’t care about seeing him, but I can’t help it. The last time I saw him was the day he quit working for Armstrong Acres. Right before that, things had started to heat up between us. We stole a few kisses here and there, but it had to be a secret, especially from my father. He wouldn’t approve of me being with a horse trainer. I thought Colby and I meant something to each other, but after he up and quit, I couldn’t help but feel betrayed. Now he works for our biggest competitor. My father said he left because he was tired of working with us. Talk about a slap in the face.
William and I walk back into the main foyer and he grabs us a couple glasses of champagne. He clanks his glass against mine and smiles. “To new beginnings.”
I nod. “To new beginnings.”
Lifting the glass to my lips, I take a sip and that’s when my eyes meet a set of electric blue ones. I’ve looked into those eyes countless nights. Almost immediately, I look away and catch my breath. William takes my hand and pulls me close. “You okay? What’s wrong?”
It feels like there’s a sharp ping in my chest. I glance back over to the corner Colby was in, but he’s nowhere to be seen. “I saw someone I know,” I murmur.
William chuckles. “Don’t you know everyone here?”
When I meet his eyes, his smile fades and recognition flashes on his face. “Oh, my God. Was it him? The guy you told me about?”
I nod. “Yep. I honestly didn’t know if he’d come tonight. Especially with the party being here.” Shaking my head, I look away. “Why do I even care? It’s been so long since I’ve talked to him.” I’ve tried to forget about Colby, but it’s been hard. He left without a word, as if I wasn’t worthy of an explanation. I feel stupid for even letting things go so far between us.
William glances around the room. “Where is he? I want to see this guy.”
I wave him off. “He’s not worth it. I don’t even want to think about him right now.” Who am I kidding? With all the events coming up, we can’t hide from each other. There’s absolutely no way it’ll be possible. I drink the rest of my champagne in one gulp and sigh. “I need more. Be right back.”
William tries to reach for my glass. “I’ll get it for you.”
I shake my head. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be right back.”
He stands back and flourishes a hand toward the waiter who’s holding a tray of filled champagne glasses across the room. “I’ll be here.” By the smirk on his face, he knows what’s on my mind. How pathetic can I be?
I walk over to where I last saw Colby, smiling and saying my hellos to everyone I pass. Colby is nowhere to be seen. He hates these social events. All he cares about is training horses, not mingling with all the pompous asses. At least, that’s what he used to call everyone.
“Brielle,” a voice calls out. I turn to see Meghan Kelly, waving her hand in the air to catch my attention. Her long, dark hair is pulled up high in a ball of curls with a large red ribbon hat off to the side that matches her sleeveless red gown.