5. Alternate modern-day Cinderella

ARIANA

~

The problem with impulsive decisions is that eventually the adrenaline wears off and you're forced to live inside them.

I'm currently living inside one that has me glued to Calvin Grey's side while his hand rests comfortably against the small of my back.

It's been ten minutes since we walked in. And over fifteen since I kissed him.

That feels worse now than it did at the time. Then, there had been adrenaline, rage, Nathan's face and a spectacular lack of judgment.

Now there's just me.

And Calvin Grey.

Calvin fucking Grey.

The realization keeps hitting me in waves.

Every few minutes my brain remembers what I've done and tries to crawl out of my body.

I should be pleased. The whole point was to make Nathan miserable and judging by the way he'd reacted earlier and the murderous glare currently drilling into the back of my head, it worked beautifully. However, the problem is that Nathan isn't the only one suffering.

I am too.

Because there's something deeply humiliating about kissing the man you've spent years having very loud opinions about just to spite your cheating ex-fiancé.

My stomach twists. Yeah, I'm going to throw myself into the sea once I leave here.

I reach for another Cosmopolitan when a server walks by. My fourth glass. I lift the glass and barely get a sip before it's snatched from my hand.

My eyes raise to find dark eyes staring down at me with amusement.

"Easy," The corner of Calvin's mouth lifts. "Trying to get drunk before the night ends?"

"Mr. Grey," I blink. "You can let go now. We don't need to keep—" The rest dies in my throat as he lifts my drink and finishes it himself.

What the fuck?

He hands the glass to another server that walks by. Looking back at me, he leans in, close enough for the scent of his cologne to settle around me and enough to feel the warmth of his breath near my ear.

"If you get drunk here," he murmurs. "it'll be quite difficult carrying you out without causing a scene."

My pulse stutters, and there's a flutter in my stomach.

It's nausea.

It has to be.

Calvin's eyes flicks past me as he pulls back, his lips twitching.

Then it clicks at once.

Nathan.

Nathan is watching, of course. Not like I forgot this act was for him. Okay, I did, but only because Calvin snatched my drink and I paused to process the audacity. Nothing else.

"Keep up." Calvin's voice pulls me from my thoughts. He's now looking at me but a teasing glint has settled behind his gaze like he can see the wheels in my head turning.

God, he's enjoying this.

I feel heat starting to rise to my face then I realize he is just properly executing the role I shoved him into.

I’m yet to decide whether that makes things better or infinitely worse when I'm once again redirected toward another conversation while the world's most infuriating man resumes pretending we're exactly where we're supposed to be.

We nearly mingle with the half of the room before Nathan decides he has seen enough and storms out.

I wait for while before slipping away from Calvin's hold and head to the restroom. Once I'm there, I run cold water over my wrists, then brace both hands against the marble sink, staring at my reflection in the mirror.

My face is flushed. My lips are slightly swollen and my lipstick is a lost cause. Between the kiss and the fact that I've spent most of the evening unconsciously biting at my mouth, I'm surprised there's any left at all.

And about that... I can’t believe he kissed me back. He’d wrapped his hand around my waist and just—

Fuck.

My eyes close for a moment.

What the hell was I thinking?

That’s the problem.

I wasn’t.

I splash more water against my wrists before straightening, forcing myself to take one proper breath.

It happened.

All I have to do now is smooth things out with Calvin. Tell him it was an act I didn’t mean to rope him into, call it a day and hope to never see him again.

With a final sigh, I straighten and head back into the ballroom. Soft jazz still drifts through the crowd beneath crystal chandeliers and expensive perfume, but this time nobody really pays attention to me. Thank God.

My eyes drift toward the spot Calvin and I had been standing earlier, brows creasing when I see he's not there.

For a second, I think maybe he moved deeper into the crowd until movement near the ballroom exit catches my attention.

Calvin.

He’s leaving with the man he arrived with earlier, and another who says something that earns a low laugh from him as they walk.

Seriously?

Before I can stop myself, I start moving toward the exit, and I'm so close when a familiar voice cuts across my path.

“Ariana darling.”

Marinette Lockwood appears in front of me wearing a smile polished enough to blind somebody under direct lighting.

I swear under my breath, the woman is relentless.

“I was beginning to think you’d disappeared on us,” she says warmly, fingertips brushing my arm. Her gaze flicks past me before returning with renewed interest. “I did see you earlier with Nathan though.”

And then you returned with Calvin.

The unspoken part hangs perfectly between us.

I force a smile. “Your party’s beautiful, Marinette.”

Her smile falters at the edges, unimpressed by the dodge.

“How is Nathan doing?” she asks anyway, lowering her voice like this is concern and not curiosity wrapped in grace.

I hold her gaze for one measured second.

“I wouldn’t know,” Something flashes in her eyes at that. Satisfaction maybe. Interest definitely.

“But truly,” I continue before she can dig any further, “the event is lovely. You and Arthur outdid yourselves.”

That earns me enough social grace to step around her before she can attempt a second round.

Calvin is gone when I get to the corridor.

Shit.

I stab the elevator button harder than necessary, regretting not taking the first one. The second elevator takes forever, slow enough for irritation to settle beneath my skin by the time the doors finally open. The ride down makes it worse.

When I finally step into the lobby—

He’s gone.

Outside the glass entrance, the other man that stepped out with them is waving lazily toward a black car already pulling away from the curb. The taillights disappear into traffic seconds later.

I stop short with a sigh.

Fantastic.

No, not fantastic. Ridiculous. It is ridiculous that I chased after him like some alternate modern-day Cinderella. The least he could've done, if he wasn't planning to stick around for a conversation after giving such a convincing performance, was leave me a fucking shoe to commit to the bit.

“Miss Halberg.”

I lift my head, blinking as the man who’d come downstairs with Calvin and his friend, approaches holding something between his two fingers.

“This is for you,” he points a business card at me. “Mr. Grey asked me to pass it along.”

Well, here's my shoe.

He walks away after I’ve received it. The card is matte black, thick between my fingers, Calvin’s name stamped across the front with a number beneath it.

That's it. A card with the assumption that I’d obviously want a way to contact him afterward.

I suck my teeth.

Arrogant ass.

Cold air brushes against my skin before I realize I’ve walked outside.

My father’s driver appears beside me a second later. “A rough evening, Miss Halberg?”

I glance down at the card again before tucking it into my clutch.

“You have no idea.”