Too Late For Regret: The Unbothered Bride

The night before, Alex had hauled the heavy black trash bag to the alley compactor and slept behind the locked door of the guest room.

Now, twenty-four hours later, the crystal chandeliers of the California Club glittered across five hundred black-tie guests.

"We were all discussing your December wedding, Alex," Arthur Sterling, a veteran partner, said over his scotch. "Though with the rumors about Basil's private flights, I assume press coordination is a nightmare."

The round table went dead silent.

Beneath the heavy linen tablecloth, a junior partner's shoe scraped sharply against Sterling's shin.

Sterling blinked, his face dark red. "Forgive me, Alex. A careless remark. Entirely baseless gossip."

"Don't apologize, Arthur," Alex said, offering an effortless, razor-thin smile. "Market gossip is usually far too expensive to maintain."

"Quite right," Sterling stammered, raising his glass in retreat.

"Alex manages risk better than anyone," another partner said quickly.

"Risk is simply an unread clause," Alex said.

She set her sparkling water down on the linen and slipped into the north corridor toward the private terrace.

Emerald velvet drapes hung across the VIP alcove at the end of the hall.

"Mr. Mcleod, if your board sees us in here, they'll say your assistant has too much sway," a voice purred.

Alex stopped two paces from the velvet curtain.

The recessed alcove was paneled with antique floor-to-ceiling mirrors.

In the tall glass, the scene was reflected with crystalline precision.

Hollie sat on the low settee in a crimson gown, her bare shoulder pressed against Basil's tuxedo.

On her left hand, a massive diamond tulip ring threw cold prisms across the mirror.

Basil held a silver dessert spoon topped with raspberry mousse, lifting it patiently to Hollie's red lips.

"Let them talk," Basil murmured, brushing his thumb against the corner of her lips. "My company, my rules."

In the tall mirror behind them, Hollie's eyes lifted and locked straight onto Alex's reflection.

Hollie did not flinch. She swallowed the mousse with a slow, deliberate smile before widening her eyes with mock terror.

"Miss Marsh—oh heavens, I am so sorry," Hollie gasped, pressing a manicured hand to her collarbone. "We had no idea anyone was standing out there."

Alex stepped fully into the archway, her phone resting at her waist.

Her thumb tapped the voice recorder icon, the waveform pulsing silently on the darkened screen.

Basil didn't drop the spoon. He set it down onto the porcelain plate, turning around with cold irritation.

"What are you doing here, Alex?" Basil asked.

"I was looking for some fresh air," Alex said.

"You must think terribly of me," Hollie whispered, her voice a sweet murmur as she tucked hair behind her ear. "Mr. Mcleod was only helping me celebrate our closing numbers."

"Your closing numbers look very well compensated," Alex said, her gaze resting on the tulip ring.

Basil stood up, smoothing the satin lapels of his tuxedo without a single trace of shame.

"I don't owe you a version of my life you approve of, Alex," Basil said.

"Is that your formal position?" Alex asked.

"It is reality," Basil replied. "Accept it or don't."

"I didn't mean to cross boundaries, Miss Marsh," Hollie said with glistening eyes. "If I had known you were feeling so insecure tonight, I would have stayed away."

"You don't need to worry about my security," Alex said.

"I just feel awful coming between you two," Hollie murmured softly. "Mr. Mcleod works so hard, he deserves a little peace."

"He certainly looks very relaxed," Alex said.

Alex saved the encrypted audio file to her private server with a single swipe of her thumb.

"Are you finished standing there like a courtroom spectator?" Basil demanded.

"I am completely finished," Alex said.

She turned on her heel to leave.

The metal tip of her stiletto clipped the carved wooden baseboard with a sharp, resonant snap.

"Wait right there, Alex!" Basil ordered behind her.

Alex did not pause. In one fluid motion, she reached down, slipped off both black heels, and stepped barefoot onto the thick wool runner.

Carrying her shoes in her right hand, she moved soundlessly down the hall and pushed through the side door into the main ballroom.

By the entrance, she slipped her heels back on, smoothed the black silk of her evening dress, and took a fresh flute of vintage champagne from a circulating tray.

Two minutes later, the corridor doors swung open.

Basil strode into the ballroom, his face dark and scanning the crowd until his eyes locked onto her.

He marched across the polished parquet floor, stopping inches in front of her.

"Where were you just now?" Basil demanded under his breath.

Alex held the tall crystal flute steadily between two fingers.

"Enjoying the party," Alex said.

"Don't play games with me," Basil hissed, leaning down until his breath touched her temple. "You were in the north hall."

"Are you concerned about what was said?" Alex asked.

"I am concerned about you creating a scene in front of our investors," Basil snapped.

"You seem to be the only one creating a scene, Basil," Alex said.

"I warned you yesterday, Alex," Basil said through clenched teeth. "You push this too far, and you walk away with nothing."

"You have very little left that I want," Alex replied.

"We'll see how brave you are when the firm loses its contracts," Basil said.

"Serve the termination notice whenever you like," Alex said.

She did not lift the flute to her lips.

Alex turned away, stepped toward a server carrying a silver tray of empty glasses, and set the full, untouched champagne flute squarely in the center of the platter.

The pale golden liquid sat motionless inside the crystal, perfectly still under the chandeliers.