Chapter 7 - One Dance Too Real
His name was Marco Bell.
Roman had trusted him for eleven years.
Marco disappeared before Roman could question him.
Police were notified.
Again, my rule.
Roman hated involving them.
Again, too bad.
Detective Ellis discovered Marco had withdrawn cash and abandoned his apartment.
Celeste denied knowing where he was.
The photograph complicated everything.
She admitted she had known Elena.
They'd attended college together.
Marco had worked security for Roman's family even then.
That explained the photograph.
It didn't explain the threats.
Our three-week arrangement should have ended Friday.
Neither Roman nor I mentioned it.
Instead, we attended the Children's Harbor charity gala Saturday night.
I wore navy blue.
Not black.
Not slimming.
Not apologetic.
Roman stared when I stepped out.
“Careful,” I said.
“I didn't say anything.”
“Your face did.”
“My face isn't covered by the rules.”
“Yet.”
At the gala, Lily joined us.
She wore a simple silver dress and complained about the heels Sophia had bought.
Then the music began.
Roman offered me his hand.
“This wasn't in the agreement.”
“The agreement expired yesterday.”
My heart stumbled.
“So we're free?”
“Yes.”
Neither of us sounded happy about it.
“Then why am I here?”
Roman's eyes stayed on mine.
“Because I hoped you'd come.”
No lie.
No arrangement.
No payment.
I took his hand.
We danced.
Slowly.
His palm rested against my back.
Mine settled on his shoulder.
“You're staring again.”
“Yes.”
“Roman.”
“I don't have rules anymore.”
“You have manners.”
“Less useful.”
I smiled.
For three minutes, the room disappeared.
Then applause sounded from the stage.
A charity organizer approached the microphone.
Before she could speak, another voice cut through the speakers.
Celeste.
She walked onto the stage.
A giant screen behind her illuminated.
My stomach dropped.
Displayed across it was a photograph of my handwritten rules.
THREE WEEKS.
NO MONEY.
NO KISSING.
A murmur spread through the ballroom.
Celeste held the microphone.
“Before everyone congratulates Providence's favorite new couple,” she said, “perhaps they should know exactly what kind of relationship they're applauding.”
Cameras turned toward me.
Roman stepped forward.
I caught his wrist.
“No.”
He looked at me.
I walked toward the stage myself.
Celeste smiled.
She thought humiliation would make me run.
She had underestimated a woman who had once served wedding cupcakes after the venue ceiling collapsed.
I took the microphone.
“Yes,” I said. “Those are my rules.”
The room quieted.
“And?”
Celeste's smile faltered.
“You admit it was fake?”
“It started fake.”
I heard Roman inhale behind me.
That wasn't planned.
Neither were my next words.
“But somewhere along the way, he started listening when I said no.”
I looked at Roman.
“And I started noticing.”
The room disappeared again.
Until Detective Ellis rushed through the ballroom doors.
She didn't look at Roman.
She looked at me.
“Ms. Bennett, don't go back to your bakery.”
My blood went cold.
“Why?”
May you like
She crossed the floor.
“Because someone is already inside.”
