“I really should put in an appearance.” Her stomach tightened at his anguished groan, intensifying the lust that had awakened at his nearness. “After all, I was part of the campaign.”
“Then later,” he promised, twin flames lighting his blue eyes.
Even though Into the Now was only a few short blocks from Oliver’s loft, the early November weather had turned blustery, so they grabbed a cab for the short trip.
In addition to many of Sammi’s fellow models, the event was attended by several A-list actors, New York City socialites and fashion influencers. Sammi and Oliver circulated through the guests, chatting with those they knew. With Oliver’s hand resting possessively on her hip, Sammi tried to relax. Things hadn’t gone smoothly when they’d made their first public appearance over a week ago, and since then, the only time they seemed to connect was in bed. Not that she was complaining.
Although their polite interactions during the day left Sammi with an aching heart, at night they came together in frantic, explosive hunger that shattered her defenses and left her convinced that they’d figure out a way past their difficulties. Unfortunately, as the sun warmed the bedroom she and Oliver shared, the happy glow of their lovemaking faded. She’d venture to the kitchen for breakfast and find Oliver polite and solicitous, but firmly withdrawn behind a wall of mundane conversation.
They existed in a bubble where only the present mattered. Neither discussed the future, and the past only raised hurts that couldn’t be healed. Oliver ceased all mention of the media blitz surrounding his father’s upcoming trial, and the only time he brought up the baby was to ask how she was feeling. His care for her was apparent, but that was no match for his pessimism.
Yet tonight, as the evening progressed, Oliver demonstrated the sort of warm affection that left Sammi reevaluating her behavior. Were her doubts getting in the way of their deepening relationship? After all, she’d been the one who’d denied that they were a couple. Sammi recognized that her hesitation was driven by her fears. She was so determined to make wise decisions about their future that she was keeping him at arm’s length.
They were chatting with Kimberly and her fiancé about his project that the two women had participated in when Oliver’s phone began to buzz. He surreptitiously slipped it from his pocket and glanced at the screen.
“Vernon’s lawyer,” Oliver explained, answering her quizzical look.
“You can’t keep dodging his calls,” she advised, her enthusiasm for the event waning as Oliver’s expression darkened. “If you’re not going to visit your father, tell him.”
With a grim nod, Oliver excused himself and headed off. Sammi remained behind and was chatting with her friends when Kimberly nudged her. Glancing in the direction her friend indicated, Sammi spied Ty with a leggy blonde on his arm. As if aware of her attention, Ty’s gaze locked with hers. His glower was so fierce that Sammi knew he would make trouble if they crossed paths. Deciding she’d rather face him with Oliver beside her, Sammi excused herself and went in search of him.
Most of the action was happening on the first three levels of the six-floor boutique. She spotted him in a back hall on the third floor, just past the elevators.
Despite the party noise behind her, Sammi was able to hear Oliver’s side of the conversation. His tense voice revealed his agitation.
“I don’t give a damn what my father wants. I’m not going to visit him. Ever.”
Sammi retreated before she was caught spying and fled back toward the party. Overhearing Oliver’s side of the conversation with Vernon Lowell’s lawyer gave Sammi a lot to think about. The level of rage Oliver felt toward his father made her anxious. While Sammi was growing up, her mother had often demonstrated the same sort of turbulent outbursts whenever something surrounding Sammi’s career had gone awry. She understood now that the anger had been born of fear, that Celeste was terrified of falling back into the poverty she’d known as a child.
Sammi craved the sort of emotional stability she’d never known growing up, and if Oliver’s virulent outbursts weren’t healthy for her to be around, then she certainly didn’t want her child drinking in all the negativity that the drama unfolding with his family incited. What made it worse was how he’d shut her out while dwelling on all the things that had gone wrong in the past. How could she plan a future with him when he refused to let her be a full partner in his present?
So had she just decided against moving in? Was it really that cut-and-dried? Or should she ask Oliver to join her in counseling to work on his anger issues? She’d been around him long enough to know that he could keep a promise. He’d been sober for eight years. And he was maintaining his sobriety despite the upheaval of his father’s upcoming trial.
On her way toward the elegant stairs that divided the narrow boutique into exclusive shopping opportunities, Sammi was too lost in thought to pay attention to her surroundings.
“I thought you might be here” came a smug masculine voice.
Sammi stopped as she realized her way was blocked by her ex. “Hello, Ty,” she said, noting his immaculate navy suit and crisp white shirt. “Sorry I can’t stay and chat, but my friend is looking for me.”
The excuse sounded lame, but she had no interest in engaging with Ty. She made to brush past him, but Ty reached out and stopped her. To Sammi’s surprise, she felt no inclination to cringe away from the malice narrowing her ex-boyfriend’s eyes.
“Let go of me,” she warned, twisting her arm free from the cruel bite of his fingers.
“You mean that guy you’re with? Oliver Lowell, right?”
“Yes...” Sammi drew out the affirmation, wondering why Ty was looking so sly.
“So,”
