Chapter 11: The Gala

CHAPTER 11

The Gala

“Where’d you put the delivery?” Leo asked, setting our empty plates in the sink.

“What did you do?” I handed him the box nervously.

He set the box on the kitchen counter before retrieving a box cutter from the entryway table. “Listen, I had help—I won’t take all the blame for this.” Leo opened the package and pulled out a white box with a black ribbon, which he handed to me. “I was given options and chose the one I liked best.”

I looked down at the box, afraid to open it. “Help from whom?” I looked back up at Leo.

“Mina,” he replied with a Cheshire smile.

My mouth gaped. “How? When?” I stammered. I was even more shocked that she had managed to keep it all a secret from me. She was terrible at keeping things from me.

“I stole your phone while you were sleeping last week,” he answered sheepishly.

If I hadn’t been so stunned, I would have been impressed. “I have a pin,” I argued.

“And you don’t pay attention when someone watches you enter it.” He leaned against the counter, proud of himself. “Aren’t you going to open it?”

I looked down at the box again, afraid of what I might find inside. “Schrodinger’s outfit,” I joked, fiddling with the black ribbon.

“Schrodinger’s dress,” Leo corrected me.

I sighed. A dress…I wasn’t exactly a dress kind of girl, but he’d gone to so much trouble…

I pulled at the ribbon, undoing the bow, and lifted the top from the box, squinting, afraid to see the contents.

Immediately I could see Mina’s handiwork. She had included the proper undergarments and accessories, a thoughtful touch. But the pièce de résistance was a royal blue dress with a low V-neck in the front, as well as a side slit, and a dangerously deep keyhole cutout in the back. She knew me well. The dress was timeless, chic, and simple.

Leo waited with bated breath for my response. “I thought the blue would bring out your eyes,” he commented quietly, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“It’s beautiful,” I exhaled. Peeking inside the shoe box tucked in the bottom corner, I saw Mina had chosen nude patent leather heels of a modest height, just high enough that she knew I could manage for an evening if I wasn’t standing the whole time.

“Are you mad?” Leo bit his cheek, preparing himself for my wrath.

“I guess you’ll find out, won’t you?” I teased.

But he knew I wasn’t angry. He tugged at the waist of my jeans, pulling me to him. “Promise?” He challenged, nipping at me.

“How long do we have to stay?” I simpered.

“There’ll be dinner and Margot will give some sort of speech about Dad and the charity. After that, we can slip out when she’s finished,” he whispered, placing soft kisses along the crook of my neck.

“Think you can wait that long?” I raised a brow. “You know we’ll have to keep our distance.”

Leo sighed. “I know, but I might have to steal you for a dance or two.”

“We’ll see.” I stepped back and picked up the box. “How long do I have to get ready?”

“The town car will be here in about two hours.”

“Oh good, we’ve got time for you to join me in the shower, then,” I purred.

Leo grabbed the box from me with one hand, and my wrist with the other, leading me into his bedroom for round three…which was a real doozy.

“I’m counting down the minutes until I get to help you out of that dress,” Leo whispered, leaning forward as he assisted me from the town car outside the hotel.

“Well, we have to make it through the night first,” I challenged. But I would have been lying if I wasn’t thinking the same thing about Leo and his tuxedo. I’d never seen him look so dashing.

“Don’t stare,” I hissed as we made our way through the lobby. “Remember the rules.”

“I remember,” Leo chuckled, putting another foot between us.

I was nervous heading into the grand ballroom of the town’s famous historic hotel. Not just because I wasn’t sure how subtle the two of us could be around each other, but because I was acutely aware of the type of event it was, and the type of people who would be there.

If Queen Bee Margot was any indication, I would be immediately scrutinized and discussed by every single person in the room, as an outsider, a stranger, and for all intents and purposes, working class, compared to their extravagant, leisurely lives.

Although I wasn’t arriving directly on Leo’s arm, I was his guest, another fact that would be dissected. As the heir to the West family fortune and the archetypal prodigal son, I was sure there would be no shortage of interest at his return to society after more than a decade.

The palatial grand ballroom lived up to its name, with multiple opulent crystalline chandeliers dotting the ceiling, parquet flooring, and vintage furniture adorning the spaces not taken up with dining tables or food stations. At the stage situated at the far end of the room, a chamber orchestra played under the din of voices, air kisses, and networking.

Immediately upon entering, Leo and I were offered champagne from one of the dozen or so servers circulating with trays full of glasses. I was all too pleased to take a glass for myself, needing some liquid courage to proceed.

“I can make some introductions if you’d like,” Leo offered.

I didn’t want to leave his side; I felt overwhelmed and anxious at the thought of being on my own, but the closer we stuck together, the more people would talk…the more likely rumors were to develop and spread.

“Goodness, the two of you clean up nicely.” Margot found us before I could reply to Leo. “Darling, you look radiant in blue—what a spectacular choice.”

I blushed, not because of the compliment, but because it was Leo that had chosen both the color and the gown on my behalf, thanks to Mina’s excellent taste and knowledge of my lack of fashion expertise.

“Thank you, Margot.” I smiled.

“I’m stealing your date,” Margot informed Leo.

Leo opened his mouth to answer his aunt, but the words died on his lips as she whisked me away before he could get out a single syllable.

For the next hour or so, I shook hands with countless people, and was pleasantly surprised by Margot’s flattering description of the work I had done at Willowbrooke. I hadn’t expected her to become somewhat of a champion for my skills, but I was thankful for the opportunity and access to her immense network.

Leo and I were seated next to each other at dinner, which became more challenging than necessary when he’d occasionally and very much intentionally brush against me under the table. He knew I couldn’t admonish him in front of others. I think he enjoyed the fact that I was helpless to stop him. I resolved to find a way to retaliate later.

After dinner, people resumed mingling, some couples made it to the dance floor, and I excused myself to the bathroom to take a moment for myself, feeling more than buzzed from the amount of champagne I had inadvertently consumed. The waiters had just kept replacing my glass, and I’d lost count of how many I’d imbibed.

Returning to the ballroom, I spotted Leo at the bar being chatted up by none other than Margot’s surprise guest from the house a few weeks prior: Miss Hawthorne. She wore a stunning, shimmering black gown that hugged every curve; the two of them looked quite the pair. With her long dark hair cascading down her back in gentle waves, I thought she reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t place who exactly.

Miss Hawthorne was right up against Leo, her hand on his chest, giggling as she flirted with him quite ostentatiously. Leo listened to her speak, giving her a polite smile, clearly not very interested in the story she was telling, but he made no attempt to brush her off or put distance between the two of them.

I heard Adam’s voice in my head: “Don’t be so petty—men are allowed to be friends with other women.”

The fact that watching them together made me feel even a hint of animosity made me immediately insecure. I didn’t want to be the Penny I had been with Adam. I couldn’t go back there. And Leo had given me zero reason to believe he’d do anything like that—in fact he’d more than proven to me that he was much more mature, considerate, and kind than Adam was ever capable of being.

Still, watching the two of them interact made me uneasy. She was the type of woman he belonged with, from the right circles, the right family, the right kind of wealth. I merely worked for him.

Interrupting my downward spiral, Margot gently tapped on the microphone, signaling the party to quiet so she could give her speech with everyone’s full attention.

Margot began by sharing an anecdote about her and George from when they’d been kids, trying to demonstrate how charity had always been something he had been fond of, painting him as a saint and conveniently showcasing herself in the same light.

She then went on to describe how the charity benefiting from donations that night, one that helped entrepreneurs and small business owners in third world countries, was so dear to George’s heart and how it only felt right that this now-annual event be part of his legacy.

Margot pulled out a piece of paper at the end to offer words of appreciation to those who had donated for the gala, went out of their way to attend, and lastly, the few who helped her plan the event. There was one name mentioned that caught me off guard, the last of her list of helpers.

“And I would be remiss not to finally acknowledge my co-chair, Quinn Hawthorne.” Margot smiled, her eyes meeting Quinn’s, still at the bar, sidled up next to Leo, even closer than before.

My blood ran cold.

Miss Hawthorne was Quinn—Leo’s Quinn—his ex.

“Quinn and I met a few years ago. She’s helped me through a tremendous amount of challenges in my life and has been wise beyond her years in the advice and comfort she’s given me. I’m so glad that she’s found a lifelong partner in my nephew, her fiancé, Leo West. George would be so proud of the bright future you’ll share together. Cheers!” Margot held up her glass of champagne, and the crowd applauded.

I felt like I was going to be sick.

I looked back to the bar, but Leo and Quinn were gone.

I needed to talk to Leo.

It couldn’t be true—Margot had to be mistaken, or maybe it had been wishful thinking on her part, that they would get back together.

He wouldn’t do that to me…would he?

I frantically searched the ballroom with no luck. Feeling the panic rising, I sought out somewhere I could be alone, just for a moment, to calm down.

I ended up sitting in the bathroom for twenty minutes, focusing on my breathing to try to relax, although it was a rather pointless exercise. My head was spinning from the champagne and the dark thoughts winding their way through me along with the alcohol.

Knowing I couldn’t hide forever and that I needed to find a way to ask Leo what was going on, to give him the opportunity to explain, I eventually returned to the ballroom. But once again, Margot intercepted me.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, darling,” she purred.

She took a beat, looking me up and down, then said, “Are you alright? Have you had too much champagne?”

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was my anxiety, or my patience wearing thin, but without thinking, I said, “I didn’t know Miss Hawthorne was Quinn.”

Margot turned her head. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “When I realized you didn’t know who she was, I thought it was best not to mention it—Leo should have said something.”

“He did say something—he told me that he broke off their engagement last year.” My words came out defensively, despite my best efforts.

“That’s what he said?” She raised a brow. “It’s true that they hit a rough patch when Leo first returned to Willowbrooke. Adjusting to a long-distance relationship, and George’s condition, was difficult for both of them. But Quinn moved back during the summer, and they decided to give it another shot since she was closer. She was of great comfort to Leo as he grieved.”

I felt my heart sink. Why would Margot lie to me about something so serious? But more importantly, why would Leo keep it from me—and not just keep it from me, but actively lie about it? “Why haven’t I seen her around the house—if they’re together?” I swallowed, trying to find some shred of dignity to hang on to.

“Before you moved in, she was over all the time after working to set up the gallery and on the weekends. She felt uncomfortable after you started staying at Willowbrooke. But it’s really none of your business—you’re just Leo’s interior designer. You should be happy for him to have found a second chance at love.”

The cacophony of the music and conversation began to fade from my ears. I could feel how shallow my breathing was becoming, and I knew if I didn’t sit down, I would pass out, an embarrassment I couldn’t take, given the circumstances.

“Thank you, if you’ll excuse me…” I gently squeezed Margot’s hand to indicate I would be taking my leave, before turning on my heel to find an open seat out of her eyesight.

But before I had the chance, I spotted Leo tucked away in a booth at the back of the room, with Quinn in his lap. The two of them were all over each other.

“This can’t be happening…” I whispered, blinking back the tears welling in my eyes. I couldn’t cry in front of these people. I wouldn’t.

Changing course, I exited the ballroom, stumbling out into the lobby.

“Do you have any available rooms?” I asked a woman working the front desk. I fumbled through my clutch for a credit card—I knew it was going to cost a fortune, but I certainly wasn’t going back to Willowbrooke. “Please…” I felt a tear escape and quickly wiped it away.

“I just need an ID and a credit card,” the woman replied sympathetically, taking the cards from me as I slid them across the counter.

Definitely drunk and positively devastated, I made the ridiculous decision to call William once I was alone in my hotel room. The call went to voicemail, but that didn’t stop me from leaving a humiliating message, needing to cry to someone, and too cowardly to call Mina for some reason.

“Did you know?” I asked William over voicemail. “Did you know he was still with Quinn? You could have said something—but instead you encouraged me—pushed us together. He’s here with her tonight—Margot said the engagement is back on and has been since this summer. You could have saved me all this heartache. I thought you were kinder than that—I shouldn’t have called—sorry…” I hung up the phone.

The room was spinning.

I switched off the light and curled up on the bed, unable to stop the tears…

It was just before one in the morning when I awoke with a start to the trill of my phone ringing. I’d slept for just over two hours. Still a little buzzed, I answered the call without thinking or looking at the caller ID. “Hello?” I croaked.

“Jesus, Penny, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for hours.” William sounded worried. “What is going on?”

“I shouldn’t have called you.” I felt my face heat with embarrassment. “I’ve had too much to drink,” I told him honestly.

“Is Leo alright? Is he with you?” William demanded.

“No—he’s with Quinn…” I scowled, blinking back a fresh round of tears.

“Wait—what? I thought your voicemail—I didn’t think you were serious,” William stuttered. “What happened?”

I took a deep breath, willing myself to sober up. “During her speech, Margot said they were still engaged. She told me they’ve been together this whole time.”

“That’s not possible—he is not with Quinn—they ended things right after he came home to take care of George—last fall, I think.”

“I saw them together at the bar—and later—they were kissing.” I could feel bile rising in my throat at the thought of it…and probably because of the champagne.

“Penny, I’m telling you, something is wrong here. He’s not with Quinn. He’s in love with you—he told me so himself.”

“What? But Margot said—”

“Quinn Hawthorne is just as much of a harpy as her benefactor, Margot West. I don’t care what she said. I talked with Leo at length after their breakup, and I can assure you he would never even entertain the idea of reconciling with Quinn. He’s made it quite clear to me that he has intentions to pursue you. I don’t know what you saw, but something isn’t right. And I can’t get a hold of Leo either.” William’s usually professional demeanor had been replaced with true concern.

I felt a familiar pit of dread in my stomach. He was right. Whatever I had seen—it hadn’t been like Leo. And if Leo wasn’t answering his phone—maybe there was something wrong.

Then, as if hit by a truck, I had two astonishing revelations at once.

The first was that I knew why I’d recognized Quinn at the bar, with her long hair—she was the woman in the nightgown I’d seen walking across the lawn late that night. Her hair had been up the day she’d come to the house, and I hadn’t seen her face in the darkness, but I knew it was her.

The second epiphany was related to something William had said: Margot West. She’d introduced herself to me as Margot Collins—her married name. “Margot West—M W, not W M—she was the person Christine wrote about in her journal. She had killed her parents, and then Christine, when she found out. And I don’t know how, but she probably killed George too,” I told William, after explaining what I’d pieced together.

“Jesus…” he breathed, shocked at the epiphany. “Should I call the police?”

“I—I don’t know,” I stammered. “I have to go back to Willowbrooke. If Leo’s not there—I don’t—”

“I’ll see if I can track his phone—I’ll meet you there as soon as I can, but I’m a ways out of town,” William told me. “And for heaven’s sake, Penny, be careful.”