Chapter 30

Wade

Bombarded by a wall of photographers when we arrived at this evening's gala ball, ever the professional, Kali elegantly strutted up the red carpet, head high, and then confidently posed for several photographs when asked.

Unaffected by the barrage of questions that made the reporters sound like a flock of squawking seagulls, she replied to each one of them.

Who are you wearing? "Dior."

Will you return to the model world? "Never say never."

Are you dating Wade Collins? "Don't be crass, darling. I'm his publicist."

How do you feel about your ex-husband having a baby with your model friend?

Like always, she was polite, replying,"Such wonderful news. I'm so happy for them." But I could tell from the way she wrapped her fist tight around her diamanté clutch bag, making her knuckles turn white, she was tense, and it threw her out of whack.

Darcy being friends with Kali was news to me. When I questioned her about it later, she told me, through a tight smile, that she mentored Darcy for years, which must have really stung. What a hideous betrayal from both Michael and Darcy.

"So, tonight you're my publicist?"

"Yes." Sipping her champagne, she casts her eyes around the room. "For now. Until the time is right to tell everyone."

"Publicist, boyfriend. It's all the same thing." I parrot the words she used by Gretchen's graveside yesterday, making her giggle against the lip of her glass.

Every inch a supermodel this evening, in a black silk, to the floor gown, Kali's left leg is peeking out of the illicit thigh-high slit. Hair down, it's slicked behind her ears, which only makes her eyes look dangerously dark, and her crimson lipstick pop.

"You wear red lipstick a lot. I love it," I tell her.

She tilts her head to the side. "I now have the gift of freedom. I get to be who I want, not who someone wants me to be. I have my own style, not an adopted one of the current brand I'm promoting, so I get to wear what I want, whenever I want. I like natural looking makeup, but I prefer the makeup I'm wearing tonight. It's dramatic and accentuates my features."

I love her confidence.

Between her dress and the way she's looking at me, it makes me want to drag her into a side room so she can tattoo that lipstick all over my body. More than anything, I wish I could claim her lips in front of everyone and show her off to the world as mine. But I can't. Not yet.

Breaking through my lust-filled thoughts, she says, "Marcus is here." Using her head to point to the other side of the room, she then tilts it to the right. "As is your mother."

My hands form into fists by my side, as that means I might be forced to speak to her at some point during the evening. Something I haven't done since I called to give her the details of Gretchen's funeral over a year ago. A funeral she didn't even attend.

Not showing up to pay her respects to the woman who made me who I am was downright ungracious. I will never forgive her.

Kali adds another name to the list of people I would least like to see. "And… Amelia."

I spin around quicker than I should. I haven't seen her since we split up.

Given that her father is currently the mayor, it makes sense that she would be here tonight.

My eyes scan over her quickly. But as I look at her, something odd happens; I feel nothing.

"You good?" Kali asks. Eyes busy, she looks everywhere but at me.

"I don't love her anymore, if that's really what you're asking."

"I wasn't." Sounding sulky and nothing like her usual confident self, she stands up straighter, her nose pointing to the ceiling.

"Kali, look at me."

When her eyes hit mine, I'm honest when I say quietly so only she can hear, "How I feel about you is new to me, and unlike anything I've felt before. Our connection…" I splay my hands, making them look like fireworks exploding between us. "Mind blowing." I close the distance between us, lean in, and whisper, "Nothing and no one compares to you. You are who I want."

A subtle twist of her head has our mouths almost touching. "For a man who used grunts and scoffs to communicate with me in the beginning, you sure have a way with words, Mr. Collins."

"I hope that's a good thing." I restrain myself from kissing her.

"I've liked you since the first day I met you."

"I thought you found me annoying."

"That too," she says, smiling. "I like your grumpy ass."

"I like your ass better."

"Good evening, Wade." A sharp voice like razor blades cuts the air, breaking our moment, which is probably just as well, or, if we haven't already, we'll have everyone in the room speculating about our relationship status. "It's lovely to see you."

It's lovely to see you?

Oh, hell to the fucking no.

I move to Kali's side, needing her combination of strength and calmness to help me get through this interaction. "What do you want, Miranda?" I address the woman who gave birth to me, yet didn't have an ounce of motherly genes in her to raise me. She looks less intimidating than the woman I remember as a kid. Got to give it to her, though. She hasn't aged a bit, which I hate her for. I swear her witchy heart doesn't match her looks.

"Wade, please don't be like that. Not here." Her eyes flit left and right, checking to see who is standing around her. She wouldn't want anyone thinking she's a bitch now, would she?

That would never do.

"What were you expecting, exactly? A beautiful family reunion where we'd all kiss and share friendship bracelets. I'm sorry." I place my hand on my chest, feigning shock. "Do you not want everyone to know what a shitty mother you were, and we don't speak because of that? Because if you did, I didn't get the memo." I point around the room. "Or should we tell everyone the story of the day you told me I was a bastard?"

Kali gasps. I don't blame her. Those words cut deep. Brutal.

"Why don't you pull up some chairs and ask everyone to gather round." This is the first time I've seen my mother face to face in several years and I'm mad. Fuck that, I'm angrier than a bull seeing red.

Molten hot rage runs through my veins, because she's standing there looking all innocent, in her sparkling dress, like butter wouldn't melt, when, in fact, there is a vicious tongue inside that mouth, and she wants me to pretend everything is fine.

It's far from fine.

We're a mess.

"I was ten years old the day you told me I was a bastard." I remember I ran to Ezra's that day. And I also remember crying all the way there. All my friends had a dad. Even my friends whose parents were divorced had dads. They picked them up on the weekends, did fun things like going to the movies, and bowling. I dreamed about doing those things with a man I could call Dad. I dreamed of his hugs and wished he came to my hockey games and told me how proud he was of me. That never happened.

I get everything off my chest I"ve been holding in, releasing it, and letting it all go. "Gretchen was more of a mother to me than you. She raised me and made me the man I am today, and you didn't even have the decency to show up to her funeral. To show your respects. To be there for me. Nothing. Although I don't know what I was expecting when you couldn't even show up for my hockey games or parents' evenings. You left that to Gretchen, too. She loved me in a way your black heart could never understand because the only person you love is yourself. I wish I could say it's lovely to see you, but that would be a lie. Please go back under the stone you crawled out from under." I turn my back on her and take a deep breath, my chest heaving in and out. I don't care who's watching or if they heard everything.

"You're okay. Just breathe, Wade," Kali soothes me.

As if the moon has been lifted off my shoulders, and it's finally shining down on me instead of me carrying it about. I feel stronger, lighter, and so much brighter.

"Am I interrupting something?" Zane's sarcastic tone arrives on the scene.

"Tonight's the gift that keeps on giving," I say before facing the man who took an instant dislike to me the first day we met, relieved to find my mother is now nowhere to be seen.

"Evening, fuckface." Zane grins wider than the Grand Canyon, trying to provoke me by calling me names.

"Good evening, Zane. Please mind your language while in the presence of a lady." She's fashion royalty and should be treated as such.

"Evening Zane, looking good tonight. Although, I can see you rented a tux," Kali drawls, her cutting comment to Zane making me roll my lips to hide my smile. "You should have had one tailored to fit you like Wade did." Waving her finger up and down his body, she throws shade his way. It's subtle but savage. "Your pants are two centimeters too long, your jacket doesn't fit across your shoulders, it's too wide, and wearing a premade bow tie is fashion suicide." She tuts. "Give my office a call. They'll hook you up with some designer gear, darling."

He grinds his teeth together and I want to yell, Burrrrrrnnnnn, but I don't. Instead, I lengthen my spine and feel proud of the way she dealt with him.

Kali hooks her arm into mine. "I"ve just spotted someone I want you to meet, Wade." She leaves her empty champagne flute on the bar and hikes her long dress up to one side. "Excuse us, Zane. We're working. You should do the same. Kash Stevens was floating around earlier. You know the radio DJ? You have a face for the radio. Try booking a slot with him."

Kali squeezes my bicep, signaling for me to walk. With some parting words, she goes in for the kill. "Oh, and the guy from AliTech Pharmaceuticals is here this evening. He owns the largest manufacturer of contraceptives in North America. He could hook you up with some advice. I heard you could use it."

Zane shoots her a venomous look, red blotchy patches bleeding up the skin of his neck beneath the white collar of his shirt. He's seething.

"Have a great night." I patronizingly give him a finger wave, leaving him standing in a cloud of shock and rage.

Weaving our way across the room, I push the laughter back into the pocket it's threatening to pop out of. "You're amazing, do you know that?"

"The tongue is mightier than a fist, Wade." She scans the room as if trying to find who she is looking for. "My advice to you, take it or leave it, would be to use wit and sarcasm. It packs a greater punch than an actual physical one."

"I'll remember that." I ingrain it into my brain. "You're so sharp."

"As are my cheekbones." On tiptoes, she lifts her head over the sea of people. "Oh, there he is. Let's go."