by Wendy Byrne
She sucked in her bottom lip and walked with him toward the door. After she told her neighbor she’d be there in a minute, she looked at him. “I…I’ve…got…a thing…”
“A thing? Is that like a date?” The idea he had competition didn’t sit well. Complications didn’t figure into his timeframe.
“Not so much…but I’ve made a commitment.”
“Sounds like a date to me.”
“It’s a Costume Ball…you know…for Halloween…if you’d like to join me.”
Oh fuck no. He didn’t do costumes and shit, or anything resembling that. “Sure. What’s the plan?” He had to be out of his mind to agree.
“Really? Most guys hate costume parties.”
Hell, he didn’t hate them. He loathed them. Dumbass people dressing up like kids. The only thing he hated more was over-the-top charity bullshit. “What are you wearing?”
“I’m a punky-looking Cinderella. I have this rainbow tutu kind of dress.”
“I guess that means I should be a punky Prince Charming.”
What had he gotten himself into?
“Or a mouse…” She eked a smile.
He made a face. “I think I’ll stick with the Prince Charming thing. What color is your dress?” Clearly he’d gone off the deep end. What was this? Junior prom?
“Fuchsia and teal with a lot of sparkles.”
“I’ll figure out something.”
She hugged him. “Thank you so much. I’m…sort of…thank you. It’s a charity thing.”
Shit.
Chapter Six
Grace paced the floor in her strappy fuchsia heels while the mesh from her costume bounced off her legs around mid-thigh. Inviting Luke had not been a good idea. She never felt comfortable being in front of an audience, and having him there only added to the pressure. Maybe she should call him and rescind the invitation. More than likely he’d be happy.
Then again, she could use this as another test. She needed to find out whether he really was TGTBT. But she kind of liked him. She had fun with him and they had this chemistry thing that pretty much left her breathless as soon as he walked into a room.
When she thought about Wednesday night, her face flushed as her imagination went into overdrive, and she took it to the next step. Who would have thought watching cheesy chick flicks would turn into a near miss? She couldn’t help but think about what might have happened if Mrs. Harrington hadn’t come by.
But he seemed almost thankful at the interruption.
What guy would be relieved about not getting laid? That didn’t make sense.
Before she could think about it too much more, the doorbell rang. A whole new set of flutters raced up and down her back.
She opened the door to invite Luke inside, but stopped. No doubt her mouth hung open as words failed her.
How could one man look so completely yummy dressed in a tux with a bright fuchsia jacket and teal bowtie? His dark hair was slicked back, making the strong masculine features on his face more pronounced and even more attractive than she’d thought possible.
“I think we make a pretty flamboyant couple.” Thankfully, he’d filled in the silence as he kissed her cheek.
“Flamboyant seems the right word.” She wrapped an arm about his waist and grabbed her phone to take a selfie before they left. “How on earth did you find a tux jacket that color and on such short notice?”
“It wasn’t easy.”
After he helped her inside the cab, he got in and slid his arm across her shoulders. “In case I didn’t mention, you look amazing. When you described your outfit I pictured one of those dresses that barely fit through the door. Not a tight strapless thing with sexy mesh stuff on the bottom.”
She laughed. “It’s called tulle. It what they use on ballet tutus and bridal veils and it’s probably a fancy word for mesh.”
“What can I expect tonight? I’m thinking I need to be prepared.”
“I do charity work for the homeless, and this is a fundraising benefit. There’ll be food and a cash bar and a boatload of people dressed as Disney characters since that’s the theme.”
His gaze narrowed and he looked at her like she might be a little crazy. Then again, maybe that was a tinge of paranoia on her part. Her father had never understood her commitment to those in need, and neither had her friends, so she never talked about it much. It was foolish to think he’d be any different.
…
Luke called BS on the whole idea. The only charity a Wilson/Whitaker was interested in centered on their bank account. More than likely it was one of those scams where she skimmed off the top, keeping 90 percent of the contributions. Based on his research, her father had done something similar about fifteen years ago and had been caught, but only got a slap on the wrist when he replaced the money he’d diverted to his pockets.
They pulled in front of a nondescript warehouse building in the Meat Packing District rather than the fancy hotel setup he’d anticipated. When they walked inside, he was even more surprised at the low-key decorations and the buffet-style food.
A woman dressed as a wicked witch with gray hair down to her shoulders and an eager smile greeted Grace with a hug. “It’s so good to see you. And you’re looking fabulous, by the way.”
“Mona, this is Luke. Mona is in charge of the LGBT shelter for homeless youth.”
Shock made Luke slow on the uptake—no cameras, no Page Six society reporter making the rounds, people wearing low budget costumes rather than the extravagant ones he’d anticipated—but he finally managed to respond. “Good to meet you, Mona.”
Mona grabbed both Grace’s and his hands. “You two look adorable together.”
“Aww…this old thing,” Grace responded as she fluffed the layers of her dress.
Mona smiled. “Forty years ago I might have been able to carry off something like that, but my Edgar would never have been able to pull off a bright pink tux jacket.”
He didn’t know quite how to respond and settled for a shrug. “I guess that’s a compliment, so thanks.”
Mona’s laughter was genuine, rather than a practiced response. “All Grace gets done… I can’t believe…she’s amazing don’t you think?”
Luke nodded and smiled. “Absolutely.” He had no idea what the woman was referring to and had no choice but to agree. None of this charity stuff had come up in his research on her.
“Really it’s no big deal.” Grace’s complexion pinkened as she clutched his arm. “Do you hear that? I do believe ‘Uptown Funk’ is calling our names.”
“What was that about?” he asked as they walked together toward the dance floor. Strange how she seemed anxious to avoid praise. So unlike most rich people he knew, who basked in it.
A guy who resembled a Johnny Depp wannabe from Pirates of the Caribbean wrapped his arms around Grace and twirled her in the air. She laughed and slid her hands around the guy’s neck. “Garrett, I didn’t know you were back.”
Garrett? Luke flipped through the information he had on her in his head. She hadn’t dated him, as far as he could remember. But that didn’t explain why the guy still had her in a possessive clutch. Luke suppressed something that felt like jealousy—or what he thought might be jealousy. But that didn’t make sense. How could he be jealous when she meant nothing to him? She was only a means to an end.
When he cleared his throat to regain her attention, he immediately regretted it. A move like that came across as juvenile and insecure.
What the hell was wrong with him?
“I’m sorry. Garrett, this is Luke.” She made the introduction. It must have been his imagination that she didn’t seem real thrilled with Luke being here right now. Maybe she was embarrassed being escorted by an accountant instead of some society boy. “Garrett and I go way back. Middle school?”
“Actually, I think grade school. Remember when…” Luke blocked out the remainder of the conversation, because he couldn’t get his mind off the fact that Garrett still had his arm around her waist. N
ot ten seconds later, he spirited her off to the dance floor when “Stay with Me” by Sam Smith came on.
That’s when Luke headed toward the bar and tried to keep occupied while wearing a hideous tuxedo and watching Grace and this jerk slow dance like they were ten minutes from taking their clothes off. His jaw clenched. Something territorial swarmed around him as he fought against the sensation.
What the hell kind of BS was this? He didn’t even like this woman. All right, he might like her, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t go down. Still didn’t explain why his teeth kept gnashing.
It seemed like the song lasted forever as he watched them joke and laugh together. His natural drive to be the top dog must be the reason for this tight feeling in his chest. Nobody bested Luke McCall, especially not a spoiled little rich boy.
This. Bullshit. Needed. To. Stop. Now.
He needed to focus on the goal, not get dragged into some territorial crap that made absolutely no sense.
As they left the dance floor and headed his way, he gulped back the whiskey he’d ordered. The burn felt good against his throat but didn’t do much to steady the tension running through him.
What was it about her that had his shark tendencies so off-kilter? It must be this damn stupid pink suit. He couldn’t think straight when his jacket practically glowed in the dark.
Garrett held out his hand to Luke when they returned. “It was nice meeting you.”
Luke grumbled something in return that sounded something like “same here” but in his head sounded like “bullshit.” The effect amplified when the guy planted a kiss on her lips and his blood pressure skyrocketed.
Garrett wagged his finger at Grace as he walked away. “Don’t forget your promise.”
While he knew he should let it pass, he found that impossible. “What promise?” He grasped her hand, maybe because he was playing a part, or maybe because he was a stupid asshole.
She winked. “After we finished college, we both promised that if we weren’t married by the time we were thirty-five, we’d be each other’s fallback.”
“Fallback?”
“We’d marry.”
Marry? Why the hell didn’t his PI dig up something on this guy? It took him a moment or two to find his voice. “Are you serious?”
“I’m not sure. There’s never been anything romantic between us, but we love each other as really good friends. And we both want kids. I’ve got a couple of years to figure that out.”
She dragged him toward the dance floor as the song “Shut Up and Dance” came on.
Garrett got “Stay with Me” and Luke got “Shut Up and Dance?” He really needed to work on his game. But damn, she looked sexy.
As a male he could appreciate the way her breasts bounced as she danced. That he remembered exactly what her breasts looked like up close and personal wasn’t something he wanted to contemplate. It didn’t mean a damn thing. The same for her legs looking unbelievable in the short mesh stuff that kept flipping up, revealing even more thigh when she twirled around. He admired her body, but that didn’t mean he’d cut her any slack.
Someone came over the microphone, getting everyone’s attention. When he turned to see who was talking, he realized it was Garrett and gritted his teeth.
“Good evening. For those of you who don’t know, I’m Garrett Monroe, and I want to thank you for supporting our cause. We’ve raised nearly a hundred thousand dollars for the homeless youth and families in the area due in large part to my friend and bestie, Grace Wilson.” He did a bow. “I love you with all my heart. I know you don’t like to take the credit, but thank you for your tireless support for the cause. As a small token of my appreciation, I’d like to give you a gift card to your favorite place in New York.”
It couldn’t be that Cyrus’s daughter was involved in charity work without an agenda.
Sure he’d come from humble beginnings, but he’d clawed his way to the top all on his own. With her life of privilege being gifted on her, how the hell would she know how the other half lived?
“Grace, come on up and say a few words.” Garrett encouraged her by motioning to her with his hand.
“I’m no good at this part,” she grumbled into his ear. He watched as she walked to the front of the room and smiled. “Thank you all for coming. I truly appreciate your passion for the problem of homelessness, especially in New York, where the cost of living is well beyond the average person. I can’t take all the credit. Everyone in this room works tirelessly for this cause as well.”
Garrett wrapped his arms around her. “Grace will hate that I’m tattling on her like this, but she gave me a check for a hundred thousand to add to the pot we’ve already collected. And told me about a brand new project she’s super excited about but can’t reveal yet.”
She blushed and looked embarrassed as she hugged and kissed Garrett, then she hurried back toward Luke.
Something about this whole thing didn’t make sense.
The litany of her accomplishments and commitment to low-income families and their housing issues didn’t sync with anything he knew about her. His file was exhaustive, so it didn’t make sense his PI hadn’t spotted the anomaly right away.
“I had no idea you were so involved with charities.”
“I try to keep it under the radar because…” She shrugged.
“It’s easier?” he offered, even though he had no idea why or how it would be easier. If her involvement was genuine, and not part of some money laundering scheme, he had to admire her. Especially because she seemed to shy from the attention.
“Something like that.”
He had to find out more. For his goal, of course. Not because he wanted to learn more about Grace. “How about next Saturday we go out on a real date? Not that this isn’t fun, but I’m thinking dinner or something.”
“I have plans…but maybe you could join me in some capacity.”
“Some capacity? Should I be worried?” Despite her vagueness, anything would be better than a dumbass costume party.
“Not at all. I think you’ll be intrigued.” She pecked him on the cheek. “Come by around nine. And dress casual.”
He couldn’t help but wonder what she had in mind for him this time. At that time of night on a Saturday, he had to believe it had nothing to do with manscaping.
Chapter Seven
“Wait a minute.” Saturday night, Tess held up her hand even as she downed the signature pink drink Grace had made for the bachelorette party. “You got to first base after doing body shots and then he left?”
The incredulous look on her friend’s face said everything Grace felt. Everything from he wasn’t that into her to he had a wife and a couple of kids. The fact that he dropped her off like he couldn’t get away fast enough after the charity thing wasn’t a feel-good moment.
To be honest, he seemed a little off-kilter all night long.
“You know Mrs. Harrington,” Grace offered, as if that explained the unexplainable.
Felicia came in mid conversation. “You left him to talk to Mrs. Harrington? You were that close to finding out if he’s as good as his outward persona would lead us to believe, and you caved to an eighty-year-old woman? I’m officially confused.”
Grace huffed a sigh. “I am, too.” How could she explain what happened in a way that didn’t make the whole scene seem bizarre, even if it was? He dropped her like a hot potato because he was afraid of Mrs. Harrington? And the weird vibe she got after the charity event. He didn’t ask to come in, and when she offered, he said something about an early morning meeting—on a Sunday—that didn’t make sense.
Needing fortification as well as a distraction, she grabbed some paper plates filled with appetizers and handed them around before returning to Tess and Felicia.
“We were getting hot and heavy, and Mrs. Harrington had a technical emergency and came pounding on the door. I think it gave us a minute to think twice about falling into bed after barely knowing each other.” It was the only rational explanatio
n she had for his quick departure, and her inability into seducing him to stay.
“What happened to your whole strategy of the test drive?” Felicia munched the shrimp with feta on crostini.
“That’s why I invited him over tonight. He’s unlike any other man I’ve ever dated, and there has to be some catch, something wrong with him. He’s too…perfect. Maybe he’ll show his true colors.”
“I thought it was no-men-allowed night?” Tess pouted.
“I know, but sometimes you have to do what you have to do.” The doorbell rang. “That’s him now. I didn’t tell him what was up, but if corralling a group of over-served women and making sure they don’t do anything stupid doesn’t scare him away, nothing will. He’ll have passed another test.” She smoothed her pink sweater over her skinny jeans and boots and went to answer the door.
While he kissed her on the cheek, his gaze veered toward the group of obnoxiously loud females dancing to Beyoncé. His eyebrows rose. “Did I come on the wrong night?”
She hooked her arm in his and brought him to the food. Maybe a little nourishment would get the look of terror out of his eyes. “We’re in desperate need of a little muscle for our bachelorette party.” When he started to protest, she put a finger to her lips. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you, but it will be fun.” Babysitting a group of over-privileged and drunk-on-their-ass society types would be a lesson in patience. “You need to try these shrimp appetizers. They’re to die for.”
“Don’t think you’re going to distract me with food when I see a bunch of drunken women you’re asking me to keep in line.” He had that deer-in-the-headlights look as he surveyed the room then pointed to the pink concoction in the clear crystal container on her dining room table. “What the hell are you serving?”
“It’s called Pink Panty Dropper.”
He barked a laugh. “What’s in that?”
“Vodka, diet lemonade, diet Cherry 7Up with some light beer.” She squeezed his biceps and felt the twinge in his arm. “You know, ladies are calorie conscious.”
