C19, PT. 3

This time, she didn’t resist when Roth entered the ballroom. She wasn’t sure if it was the surplus of gold, nerves, or the fact that she was treading on what felt like holy ground, but her insides began to buzz as if she had taken a shot of alcohol.

Roth headed toward a group surrounding a man in a tux with a white bow tie, who noticed Roth’s approach and grinned broadly. Those around the man turned to see who caught his eye. The older man excused himself and didn’t bother maneuvering through the crowd—it parted for him the same way it did for Roth. He didn’t have Roth’s size or aggressive energy, which could only mean…

“Sullivan,” Roth acknowledged.

“You made it!” The man clapped Roth fondly on the shoulder.

“We wouldn’t miss it.”

The man focused on her. He had spellbinding eyes the darkest shade of blue she had ever seen and wavy hair that had been slicked down, but the ends were beginning to curl. He had a full beard, more appropriate for a man who lived in the woods than this mansion. “You must be Jasmine.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” she said, taking his hand, and felt her lips curve as he gallantly kissed the top of it.

“Would you honor me with a dance, my dear?”

His question ripped a hole in her blank space, which began to deflate like a balloon. She was supposed to stand at Roth’s, smile, and look pretty, not dance or converse one-on-one with their host. She held her tongue, giving Roth time to come up with some clever excuse to get her out of this.

Sullivan’s attention shifted to Roth.

“I guess I should be asking you,” he said jovially. “May I dance with your beautiful wife?” When Roth didn’t answer immediately, Sullivan chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’ll bring her back.”

Roth’s hand slid down her spine before he murmured, “Yes, bring her back to me.”

Sullivan waved his hand and, magically, the dance floor began to clear as people backed to the sidelines. “Shall we?”

She desperately tried to hang onto the void, but as Sullivan pulled her away from Roth’s raw magnetism, the ugly emotions began to creep back in. What the hell was going on here? Roth told her he knew Sullivan, but to act as if the festivities could begin now that they had arrived and single her out for a dance when there were hundreds present… She was missing something vital, but there was no time to ponder what that could be because Sullivan turned to face her.

A hush fell over the ballroom as she took his hand and placed the other on his shoulder. Only then did she register that there was no music. As her eyes rounded in horror, the first notes of a violin filled the room.

Sullivan chuckled as he took the first step. His eyes warmed with approval when she followed his lead. “I pay them to be ready at a moment’s notice.”

“They’re cutting it close,” she muttered before she remembered who she was talking to.

Sullivan grinned. “Want me to fire them?”

“No.”

Whispers swept across the room, but she was too busy trying not to trip over her own feet to pay attention. Sullivan was doing the basic steps of a slow waltz, with some improvisation here and there. He was clearly a skilled dancer, which eased her skittering nerves. Those three summers of dance classes she thought had gone to waste were saving her ass right now.

She kept her gaze fixed over his shoulder and made sure her social mask was firmly in place. Only he could feel the tension in her body, but who wouldn’t be unnerved by an impromptu dance in front of an audience?

“Your father would be proud,” Sullivan said.

Her eyes flicked from the sea of blurry faces to him. Her brows began to come together before she remembered the spectators. “I think you have me confused with one of my sisters, Mr. Trentham.”

His eyes sparkled with humor. “Call me Sullivan, and I don’t have you confused with your sisters. I have the right Hennessy daughter, the black sheep of the clan.”

She missed a step. “Excuse me?”

“You caused quite the scandal.”

The last thing she expected was to openly address her past with their host. She didn’t know what else to say except, “That was a long time ago.”

“I’m sure you’ll find that everyone remembers the details of your affair just fine.”

Her temper flared at feeling like the butt of some joke. “Which is why I didn’t want to come.”

He threw back his head and laughed as if she told a hilarious joke. She started to draw away, but he didn’t let her escape. He used her step away to spin her and bring her back to him. To her chagrin, the music began to build. He swept her across the ballroom that felt as large as a football field.

“You don’t disappoint, my dear.”

“The night is young,” she quipped, and inwardly castigated herself for her wayward tongue.

“Rebellious, beautiful, poised, intelligent. The Hennessy blood runs strong in you. I can see why Roth risked it all for you.”

She looked away from his penetrating gaze. “I didn’t know you were acquainted with my husband.”

“Roth approached me before he was run out of New York. He wanted my help. I admired his guts and courage, but I didn’t give him the aid he wanted.” He gave a small shrug. “I also didn’t participate in your father’s mission to cripple him either. Thank God for that. I didn’t think I would hear his name again. People come and go every day in this business, but I kept an eye on him and when I saw what he was doing across the pond, I realized my mistake and reached out to him.”

“You reached out to Roth?”

“I would be a fool not to. Anyone who bet against him is paying dearly for it now.” He shook his head. “It’s too bad he and Maximus couldn’t put their differences aside to do business together. They could have made history.”

**This is a raw draft of Bitter Confessions. Please do not share or distribute.

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