The Stand-In's Sweetest Revenge

illed with the low hum of conversation from Silicon Valley's elite. I spotted Connor across

around the room, a predator scanning for its prey. Her gaze landed on me a

from Connor, glided over to the piano, and sat down. A hush fell over the room as her fingers danced across the keys,

waiter and moved toward the periphery, in

I was hoping

whose notoriously bad back I had practically rebuilt

d to see yo

with my carefully designed, health-conscious but delicious creations. "Javier and I were just saying, w

nother of my high-profile clients. "Your roasted salmon with di

ofessional worth. Their praise was a constant, ringin

the musi

halt on a dissonant chord. Every hea

he had clearly noticed that I was receivin

voice dripping with artificial swee

d me again. "I see we have anoth

er gaze to me. I st

very dear friend of Connor's." She loaded the words with insinuatio

the crowd. Evans and Javie

oming predatory. "I'm sure everyone would love to hear

raud in front of everyone. She could already picture it: my clumsy fumbling at the keys, the snickers from the crow

ano, then back at

you," I s

s face. The air crackled

s not how it's supposed to go. You're supposed to try, and fail,

ed. She looked like a child whose

ing finished his conversation. "Is everyth

d burying her face in his chest. "She's being horrible to me! I just ask

hands. "I j

, in fact, all she said, Connor. Bella

ly tired. The party, meant to be a celebration, had

g expression in his eyes.

eath. "One hundred thousand. Just

eckbook, then at h

hed.

me. Bella had detached from Connor and was now watching

exactly one year of piano lessons whe

ncentration, began to plink out a clumsy, one-fing

childish, and utterly d