“We have the flower arrangements ready. The caterers are here now. How many items did you want displayed on the stage at once, Ms. Halston?”

I stared off into space. So many details. I’d made fun of my mom so many times over the years about all the things she fretted over for these things.

“Ms. Halston.” I jumped. She meant me.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“How many items do you want on the stage during the auction?”

I glanced over at my mom. A frown marred her face and she unfolded her arms from across her chest.

“It’s your show, dear,” she said, standing and abandoning me. Thanks, Mom.

“One at a time will work,” I said, keeping my smile plastered on my face.

“Perfect,” the planner said, speaking into her lapel mic and making a note on her tablet.

The headline in the papers that morning made me want to crawl into a hole and die. Rhys Thayer steps down. World’s biggest philanthropist leaves it all behind.

Killian got to him. He did whatever he needed to do and dethroned Rhys like he’d planned. And I’d been an accessory to that. The guilt burned brighter than the anger.

It was over. There was nothing more I could do other than try to follow in my mom’s footsteps and do good the way she did. Maybe I should stick to what I know. Stick to the safety and familiarity of my old life. I’d been stupid to try to forget this place. Things were great. Just like old times. Just like before. Just like New York never happened.

A line of town cars and limos lined the street up to the museum where the gala was being held. Most were heading in the opposite direction. My flight had been delayed, which meant even more time on the plane. I had to take a shower in the airport lounge because I’d sweat through my clothes. I thought back to the last time I was on a plane. Rachel had done a great job of keeping me occupied. The hour and a half flight seemed to pass in the blink of an eye when I was touching her and tasting her.

When the invitation arrived in the mail, I didn’t know what to think about it. The business card flew out and slid out onto the floor. I picked it up. It was for a tattoo shop. Dahlia’s shop. My heart raced as I turned the card over. It had three words hastily scrawled on it. Be there, Asshole.

Waiting for the day was torture and now I was late. My invitation tucked into my suit pocket, I got out of the car and walked up the wide stone steps to the museum entrance.

There were squadrons of party people there, earpieces in and chattering to one another. I entered the museum, and pop-orchestra music filled the room, along with hundreds of well-dressed people. The woman at the entryway checked my invitation and I was ushered in. I always felt so out of place at these things. While my suits were custom made, they never seemed to fit properly and I felt like a bull in a china shop, trying not to bowl anyone over. There was a receiving line, which was odd. But I didn’t know how they typically did things in Chicago.

There weren’t that many people in front of me, so I stood tapping the invitation against my palm. My eyes peeled for her. That had to be why Dahlia sent me to this place. A waiter passed by with a tray of champagne and I picked up one of the flutes and downed half the glass, trying to quell my nerves. The bubbles stung my nose. I hung back, waiting for my turn. There was no one else behind me.

The line of people in front of me parted and the champagne glass dropped out of my hand onto the coral carpet runner they’d brought into the event. It was her.

Rachel stood in front of me, finishing off her conversation with the people who’d been in line ahead of me.

There was another woman beside her, an older woman, but my attention was completely focused on Rachel. She was gorgeous. My heart thundered and I was a little lightheaded. Just as beautiful as I remembered, even more. I’d looked for her for so long and here she was in the flesh. Right in front of me. My chest tightened and it was hard to breathe.

Her hair was up on top of her head in an intricate set of braids and twists with a few wisps trailing down, framing her face. The body she’d always hidden under her work clothes was on full display. Her dress hugged all her curves, curves I’d memorized. She was mouthwatering. Someone rushed over to clean up the mess of my glass and it caught her attention.

She turned her head in my direction and her face paled. I don’t know what reaction I expected, but it wasn’t the look of abject terror. I took a step forward and she took a step back, bumping into the woman beside her.

“Rachel, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The woman held her hand up to Rachel’s forehead. “Are you coming down with something?” Rachel shook her head. The other woman noticed me standing there and extended her hand.

“Hello, welcome. I’m Michelle Darren-Halston, so lovely of you to join us, Mr…” I shook her hand, unable to form words. Rachel Darren was Rachel Halston. I’d seen her name on the invitation. How stupid was I not to put that together?

“Killian Thorne,” Rachel said, without taking her eyes from mine. The woman, I can only assume was her mother, whipped back and forth between us, probably trying to figure out what was happening. I was too.

“Mr. Thorne,” her mother said, taking my hand in hers. “Welcome and we’re so happy you could be here to join us. We have the silent auction going on and then the live auction a little later. At the table downstairs, you’ll be able to get your paddle with your number on it for bidding.”

“Rachel, would you like to show him? I’ll pick up any stragglers.”

Rachel’s head whipped around and she shook it vigorously.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, I’ve got it.” Her mother pushed her toward me. Rachel stumbled and I caught her in my arms. Her big brown eyes looked up at me. No glasses now and it seemed she was still as unsteady on her feet in these heels as she had been before. She righted herself quickly and smoothed down the front of her dress. The navy dress shimmered under the light of the museum.

“It’s been a long time, Rachel,” I said into her ear. She shivered and a small smile spread on my lips. It was good to see that I hadn’t lost my touch. She’d run from me before, but I wasn’t going to let her get away this time. I was so close and I couldn’t wait to be with her again. I wasn’t the man she remembered and I was more than willing to prove that to her.