“Hello,” I call. “Won’t be a moment.” I struggle with yet another key. “Fuck it,” I whisper. “Why didn’t she tell me what damn key it was?”

“Maybe you’re supposed to just walk right through the door?”

I inhale deeply. “Christopher, so help me fucking God.” The key finally turns and the door pushes open with a deep, long creak.

Christopher and I peer in and then look at each other, and then go back to peering in.

It’s gigantic, and grand, with incredibly high ceilings and fancy cornicing. Dated and otherworldly.

It’s like a step back in time.

Utterly beautiful.

“Wow,” Christopher whispers in awe.

I smile broadly as I imagine how cool I can make this place.

“I know how it got its name,” he whispers again.

“Me too. I’m enchanted already.”

KATE

I lie on the couch while eating Nutella out of the jar with a spoon.

“You know that shit gives you a fat ass, right?” Daniel says as he puts his laundry away.

“Nobody is going to see my ass anyway.” I sigh.

“Oh, except Elliot Miles. What’s happening there anyway, you haven’t mentioned him all week. Is that what’s wrong with you?”

“This has nothing to do with Elliot Miles,” I lie.

Maybe a little.

“What then?”

“The fact that my sister is a bitch. I just want a sweet sister who cares, you know? Sisters are supposed to be built-in best friends.”

He smiles and sits at my feet, picks them up and puts them on his lap. “That’s it, I’m dragging your ass out tonight.”

“I’m not going out.” I sigh.

“Come on, it’ll be fun.”

I raise my eyebrow. “You always say that.”

“And it always is.”

“Where are you going?”

“An art auction.”

“What?” I sit up. “Where at?”

“Here in London. Do you want to come?” He smiles sweetly.

“Actually.” I bite my lip as an idea rolls around in my head. “Maybe I do.” I stand with purpose. “But first you need to make me look insanely hot.”

Daniel chuckles. “Mission accepted.”

It’s nine when we walk into the Halifax function room, a ballroom at the Conservatory of Music. The venue for the art auction.

I’m wearing a deep-blue fitted dress with long sleeves and a low back, sky-high stilettos, and my hair is down and full. I’m totally dressed up in designer samples and I look good.

At least I hope I do.

To the left of the room is a bar and everyone is mingling; canapés and champagne are being walked around on silver trays. To the right of the room an auction is going on, and you can hear the auctioneer calling. The crowd is eclectic and the sound of jovial chatter is loud as it echoes around the high ceiling.

I look around: Where is he? Is this even the right auction?

“Let’s go and look at the auction,” I whisper.

Daniel puts his arm around me and we walk over to that part of the room. There is a huge painting on an easel and about fifteen people are gathered around it.

“One point one,” I hear the familiar voice snap. Elliot is standing front and center, bidding.

I pull Daniel back so we can watch unhindered.

“I hope his dick is as big as his wallet?” Daniel whispers.

It is.

I giggle.

“Be nice,” I whisper back.

I watch as Elliot bids on the painting, completely focused on his task. He’s wearing black jeans and a black knitted sweater; his dark hair is messed to perfection. His words come back to me.

I was too attached.

I smile to myself as the bidding war continues. We stand at the back and watch the proceedings; I don’t know whether I’m appalled or impressed at his drive to own the painting. It’s obvious for all to see that he won’t back down, that painting is as good as his.

It’s unsettling to watch him like this, cold and detached to achieve his desired outcome. His words come back to me: I’m looking for extraordinary. Is this what he would be like to achieve that goal? Emotionless and hard; is that why he pushed me to the side . . . to make way for his extraordinary woman?

“Sold,” the auctioneer yells as he slams the hammer down. “Mr. Miles, congratulations.”

The crowd all clap in awe.

“Honestly, he has more money than sense, the painting isn’t even that great,” I say.

“Do you see that handbag?” Daniel leans in and whispers. He gestures to a woman.

“Yes.”

“Fifteen thousand pounds.”

My eyes nearly pop from their sockets. “What the hell?” I whisper.

Daniel laughs and pulls me closer with his arm around me as we chat.

I glance up to see the glare of Elliot, the fury emanating from him is thermonuclear.

Huh?

He marches over. “Get your fucking hands off her,” he growls.

My eyes widen in horror.

What?

Daniel’s grip around my waist tightens. “Go to hell.”

Chapter 16

“Elliot,” I stammer. “What are you doing?”

“I said. Get. Your. Fucking. Hands. Off. Her,” Elliot sneers through gritted teeth.

Daniel smiles sarcastically, totally unruffled; he raises an eyebrow. “What’s your fucking problem?”

“You are.”

Holy crap. I pull out of Daniel’s grip, this is a nightmare. I glance around to see that people are noticing the commotion.

Elliot steps forward until they come face to face.

I step between them, my back to Daniel. “Will you stop it?” I whisper.

“Get out of my way, Kathryn,” Elliot whispers angrily.

“Go home, pretty boy, she’s here with me,” Daniel whispers.

Elliot’s nostrils flare as he teeters on the edge of a complete meltdown.

“Will you two stop it?” I whisper. “Elliot, I want to talk to you . . . outside.”

His eyes stay glued to Daniel, like a cobra ready to strike.

What the hell?

“Now, Elliot.” I grab his hand and pull him back from Daniel. “We need to talk.”

He ignores me.

“Now.” I drag him through the crowd and out of the back doors and onto the terrace. I pull him over into the corner. His hands are clenched by his sides. Fury is oozing out of him like a volcano.

“What the hell are you doing?” I whisper angrily.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he growls. “You ended it with me . . . for him?”

“No. Who said we were ended?”

“I’m not fucking stupid, Kate, he’s all over you like a rash.” He drags his hand through his hair as he grapples for control.

“We’re just friends,” I whisper.

“With benefits.”

“No.” I throw my hands up in disgust. “Me and you are friends with benefits.”

“You left out the dramatics part.”

“What? You spoke to me like crap,” I snap. “And for your information, you’re the one that wanted casual.”

“With no other fucking people,” he interrupts.

“Oh, you can go home with Varuscka but I can’t live with him?”