Page 33 of Saving Stella

“Yeah. And this house is really stunning.”

House was an understatement—this really was more of a mansion, which their host explained had been built by one of the famous robber baron families in the 1800s. Stella felt like she had stepped back in time into the gilded age as soon as she entered the gorgeous manor house.

Charley sighed. “And the best part is, no paparazzi.”

Stella wrapped an arm around her. “I’m so sorry you had to go through this.”

“It was bound to happen, and I have no regrets—I really do love Devon. I just wish it had been on my own terms, you know?”

“Don’t worry, we’re all here for you.” Stella squeezed her shoulders. “I’m just glad you were able to get away without anyone finding out.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“How did you manage to escape from those vultures, by the way?”

Stella herself had been whisked away in such a secretive manner, like she was in a spy movie. Devon had hired a different security company—since the press were able to connect the dots from Charley to Lone Wolf Investigations, they couldn’t use any of their vehicles or agents—to drive Stella from Queens to Hudson Valley in an unmarked vehicle.

“With all those eyes on you, I’m surprised you guys didn’t get tailed all the way here.”

Charley chuckled. “I’ll tell you about my Uncle Daric and his son, Cross, sometime. When you’re not dealing with all the long-lost brother and Lycan stuff.” She nodded at the room. “And all of that.”

The party itself was being held in the ballroom—an actual, honest-to-goodness ballroom—filled with Charley’s many relatives, plus a few people who she assumed were Devon’s friends because she’d been introduced to at least one famous person, the Renée Rose, pop superstar diva.

Needless to say, Stella had been overwhelmed—there were so many of them, and she’d really only had her parents for her entire life—but all of them had been warm and welcoming.

Well, almost all of them.

Despite herself, Stella glanced across the room—toward where Cliff stood by the window speaking to one of his female cousins from West Virginia. Her heart sank at the sight of him, and she cringed inwardly at her own behavior.

Yesterday, for just a brief moment, she had thought there had been something between them. He was so gracious after she’d wrongly assumed he didn’t know anything about music, and after that, he seemed so different, especially while they were playing the piano together.

Afterward, she even thought that he was going to kiss her. She would have let him, too, if they hadn’t been interrupted. Excitement and giddiness had coursed through her for the rest of the night and throughout the dinner, and she had been touched by his heartfelt apology.

But something happened at some point, and by the end of the dinner, he’d treated her with the same coldness as he had when they first met.

She was still confused by it all.

Or I was just imagining things.

Though, she didn’t know what was worse—that she assumed that he was attracted to her or that he had been, and somehow she’d done or said something to turn him off.

Maybe she just had that effect on men as evidenced by her most recent forays into dating.

“Champagne?”

Stella took a second to recover as she focused on the flute of bubbly in front of her, held up by one of Charley’s male cousins.

“Thanks, er …” She searched her brain for his name—he was handsome, like many of the men here, with longish red-blonde hair that was all spiked up—but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember it.

“Jacob,” Charley supplied.

“Jacob.” Embarrassment made Stella’s cheeks warm. “Sorry about that.”

“Nah, you’re fine.” Jacob chuckled. “There’s over two dozen of us here, sometimes I forget everyone’s names too. Or at least I want to. Here.” He pushed the champagne flute closer to her face. “You really need to take this.”

Stella didn’t miss the emphasis nor the way he nodded at Charley, so she guessed the “big” moment was coming up. She took the flute he offered.

“Wait.” Charley frowned and glanced around as other people were being offered champagne. “I didn’t realize we were celebrating something.”