by Amy Patrick
“Be quiet,” I hiss. “She’ll hear you.”
Brenna rolls her eyes. “She doesn’t know anything. She can’t even see us.”
“You’d be surprised,” I mutter. “She sees more than you think. And she doesn’t even need her eyes to do it.”
“Well, you might want to prepare your eyes because when you see her in the—”
Laney steps out into the living room area, and all conversation ceases. This is why Brenna didn’t tell me she was picking up Laney and what they’d be doing.
A sleek, metallic evening gown flows over Laney’s body like molten silver, flashing in the light of the room as she moves and turns. It’s cut low in the front, revealing a hint of cleavage and molding to her shape in a way that makes my eyes bulge from their sockets and my mouth go dry.
Her long hair is styled into softly flowing waves, reminiscent of a classic old Hollywood starlet, and her skin glows, perfected by a pinkish blush at the tops of her cheekbones. Her perfect, plump lips turn up shyly at the corners.
“Do I look okay?” she asks, waiting as the silence extends. I’m unable to answer or say anything at all, overwhelmed by the sight of her. I want her so badly it literally hurts. The pain radiates throughout my body, its epicenter in my groin.
Apparently taking the lack of comment as disapproval, Laney falls back a step, her timid smile vanishing. She moves to flee back into the room where Brenna has been getting her ready.
I step forward and catch her, finally locating my voice though it comes out in an odd, strangled sounding manner. “Laney—you look... very nice.”
“Nice?” Brenna barks a laugh. “She looks freaking amazing. I. Am. A genius.”
“So am I.” A deeply tanned brunette steps forward, her chest swelling with pride. “I altered that Amazonian dress to fit this little squirt.”
“Culley,” Laney whispers. “What are you doing here?”
“I... well, I’ve come to give you a ride to the event tonight.” Before walking in here and seeing her looking like this, I had no intention of attending the gala. But now... now I think she needs a bodyguard.
Her pert nose goes up in the air. Yep—still mad at me. “I don’t need a ride. Shane has offered to come pick me up. I’m sure you have other plans—you’ve already spent too much time babysitting me.”
“As a matter of fact, I don’t have other plans. The Stop the Scourge gala has been on my calendar for weeks now. Everyone who’s anyone will be there. You don’t expect me to miss the charity event of the season, do you?”
She blinks a few times, resembling a confused baby owl. “Oh. I guess I should have realized you’d be there because of your position with your dad’s company. But you never mentioned anything about it.”
“It never came up. How was I supposed to anticipate your sudden interest in stuffy charity events?” I study her more closely, perusing the glamorous makeup and hair and the sexy dress. “Why are you going? Is this your boss’s idea?”
She throws her shoulders back. “Why shouldn’t I go? To answer your question, yes, Shane did ask me to attend. He thinks I could be helpful.”
“Helpful? How?”
“He asked me to speak to the attendees—about Joseph—to tell them his story. He thinks it will put a face on the S epidemic and cause people to be more generous.”
“So in other words, he’s using you.”
“I wouldn’t put it that way.”
“I would. He wants you to share your sob story so they’ll pull out their wallets and checkbooks and write a big fat number down.”
She tightens her jaw and turns her head away from me, giving me a close-up look at the smooth, touchable waves of her hair. “You are so cynical.”
“You have no idea, sweet”
“Well for your information, Shane told me I was still welcome to come even if I didn’t decide to speak. Happy now?”
This information does not make me happy. It makes me quite annoyed in fact.
“I need a few minutes to shower and put on a tux. Wait here—I’ll be back soon.”
I can tell my domineering tone doesn’t sit well with her. Her mouth turns down with a stubborn slant, and she folds her arms across her chest. Finally she says, “Fine.”
Moving like I’ve got wildfire at my heels, I exit Brenna’s condo and go to mine. I don’t really need a shower for cleanliness’s sake. However, after seeing Laney in that body-hugging dress, I do need a little alone time, and the shower seems the perfect place for it.
I’ve got to get over it. I cannot let myself look at her that way tonight. I need to wipe my mind clean of the thoughts that filled it the moment I saw her looking like a bombshell temptress, like the movie stars and celebrities she’ll be mixing with at the gala.
Twenty minutes later I’m back at Brenna’s door, armed with renewed determination and a couple of bracing drinks I downed quickly as I donned the monkey suit.
You’re fine. She’s just another girl. Not even your type.
The door opens, and Laney stands there looking like no other girl in the world. And exactly my type.
I have to swallow hard before speaking. “Ready to go?”
She nods and turns to give a wave to Brenna, who waits behind her to zing me with a knowing look.
You gonna be all right there, cowboy?
Shut up. I glare at Brenna but it does nothing to dim her gloating.
Laney reaches for me, and I offer my arm. Together we proceed in silence to my car, get in, and start toward the city’s downtown business district and the exclusive Italian Renaissance style club where the gala will be held.
Though I’m doing my best to keep my eyes on the road, they keep drifting over to take in the sight of her. She is radiant.
“So...” She finally breaks the silence. “Thanks for bringing me tonight. You really didn’t have to. I mean, Shane seemed like he was completely fine with picking me up.”
“It’s nothing. I’m going that way anyway, so no need to trouble your boss.”
“It’s... well, I thought maybe I scared you off this morning or something.”
“Me scared? Of you?” I take a breath to calm my suddenly racing heart. “Nah.”
“Okay, so I guess you just didn’t want to kiss me then.”
And here we go. This is my opportunity to put an end to the nonsense between us once and for all. I can no longer deny the attraction, but acting on it again is out of the question. I should make it clear there’s no possibility of anything happening between us, in case she was hoping for it... or something.
My stomach goes into a nose dive at the thought. Is she hoping for it? Stupid stomach. I jam a fist into my midsection, pressing hard to stop the idiotic butterflies that are clearly lost because they’ve never taken residence there before—not once in my whole life. What is it about this girl?
“Listen... Laney—you’re a lovely girl. I can’t deny I’m attracted to you. I mean, obviously you know that after the... incident the other night. But my life is pretty complicated right now. I can’t... get involved... with you.”
She keeps her face pointed straight ahead, not inclining toward me, not showing me any reaction. “I see.”
“Besides, you’re moving into your new place tomorrow. You’ll be busy with your new job and your clinic work. I’ve got a critical time coming up at work myself. It doesn’t make sense. I think it’s better if we keep things as strictly friends from now on.”
Again, a stretch of silence. Finally she nods. “Okay then. Thank you for telling me how you feel. I certainly don’t have any interest in pursuing someone who’s not interested in me. Been there and done that one already. Friends it is.”
Well, that was easy.
I’d expected hurt feelings or pouting, maybe even shouted accusations of leading her on. Instead, Laney rides serenely beside me in the car, not looking the least bit bothered. Which makes me feel... weird.
I’m still troubled by it when we arrive and I hand off the keys to
the valet at the entrance of the club. Lightly taking Laney’s arm, I escort her into the club, falling naturally into a description of our surroundings.
“We’re in the foyer. It’s very large, very swanky. A long carpet runner goes through the lobby and up a set of stairs. There are wide columns on either side of us, oil paintings on the walls, lots of fancy flower arrangements, big chandelier, the works.”
“I wish I could see it. It sounds beautiful.”
“It’s not bad.”
The club is steeped in old money elegance, but the most beautiful thing in the place—by far—is Laney. And I’m not the only one to notice. As we make our way through the lobby toward the ballroom, I see the eyes of every man we pass, whether he’s alone or with someone, land on her and stay there.
I’ve gotten pretty good at reading faces over the years, and I recognize desire when I see it. By the time we reach the gala, my insides have heated to the boiling point. I’m ready to shoot laser beams from my eye sockets at the next guy who stares at her, which is a bad thing because when we enter the ballroom, several dozen sets of male eyes turn to us—to her. I’m going to have to stay right at her side all night to keep her from getting swarmed by all these jackals.
“Do you see Shane?” she asks. “I want to let him know I’m here.”
Tamping down my annoyance long enough to glance around, I survey the room for the head jackal. “I don’t see him. But don’t worry. I’m sure he’s on the lookout for you. Want a drink? A soda or something?”
“Do they have champagne?”
“I thought you didn’t drink.”
“I don’t. But tonight feels... I don’t know, special or something,” she explains. “And I’ve always wanted to try champagne. Besides, I’m kind of nervous about speaking in front of everyone. It might help.”
“The bar is this way.”
I accompany Laney across the empty wood-topped dance floor where a bar is set up directly opposite the small orchestra. As we make our way through the crowd surrounding the bar, several women offer hellos. Some of them I’ve met before, and I’m obligated to stop and exchange a few air kisses and words with them. At least the Elven women in attendance are subtle about their reactions to my appearance. The humans—are not. Sometimes I’m amused by their gawking. Tonight it’s annoying me to no end. I just want to reach the bartender and get Laney her first glass of champagne.
Finally I gain his attention. “Dom Perignon please.”
“Sir, the Dom Perignon is—”
I know what he’s going to say—the Dom Perignon is not complimentary. The champagne they’re serving gala guests is a less expensive brand. But it’s Laney’s first time tasting champagne.
The three hundred dollars I lay on the bar in front of the man silences him. He nods and turns to enter the wine storage area, coming back seconds later with a bottle. He pops the cork and fills two tall crystal flutes.
“As I was saying sir, The Dom Perignon is an excellent choice for tonight. Enjoy. If you’ll point out your table, I’ll have your bottle sent over.”
“Wow, that’s nice,” Laney exclaims. “This really is a fancy event if they’re giving away bottles of champagne to the guests.”
“Yes, it’s top shelf. So what do you think?”
“It’s good,” she says. “Sweet.”
“Another one to cross off your bucket list.”
“My what?”
“That list of things you’ve never done but always wanted to try.”
“Oh, right. I can thank you for helping me with three of them now.”
Looking down at her beautiful smiling mouth, I’m acutely aware of the last item on that list—skinny dipping. There’s one I won’t be helping her with. Which leads me to the thought of somebody else filling that role.
Suddenly hot and uncomfortable, I tug at the neck of my tuxedo shirt and glance around at the crowd. “Do you know if you have an assigned table?”
“Yes, Shane said Starting Steps has a table for ten. I’m supposed to sit with them. Does your father’s company have a table?”
“I’m not sure. I forgot to ask,” I lie. “Perhaps I’ll just sit with you. Our company table is bound to be full of stuffy millionaires with shallow pockets.”
“We can ask Shane. I’m sure he’ll be happy to have you if there’s room.”
Oh, I’m sure. I grin and guide her toward the perfectly scruffy blond man waving wildly from an elegant cloth-draped table near the stage. The ballroom is all done up in white, from the flower arrangements atop each table to the candles glowing around them to the white-leaved potted trees placed at intervals around the room.
As we near his table, Laney’s boss gets a closer look at her, and I have no doubt he would like a closer “working relationship” with Laney. I can’t blame the man. She’s stunning.
“Laney—wow,” he exclaims, his gaze roving up and down her body. “You look sensational.” He steps forward and kisses her cheek, wrapping his hand around one of her wrists.
A bright smile lights up her face. “Shane, you’re such a flirt. I’m sure you’ve said that to all the girls from the clinic here tonight.”
Looking around, I see none of the other women who were there today when I went in searching for Laney.
“Actually...” He hems. “It’s just you and me tonight. We’re sharing a table with several other non-profits, so there wasn’t room for the whole clinic staff.”
Laney’s expression clouds. “Oh no, I feel bad. Someone who’s been there longer should have come instead of me.”
“No, I need you here. You have an important role to play, remember? As I’ve told you before, you walked into my life at the exact perfect moment—like it was meant to be.”
Shane’s challenging gaze lifts to meet mine for the first time.
Unaware of our silent exchange and apparently of the undercurrent of her boss’s words, Laney says, “Well, I sure hope my speech will live up to your expectations. And I hope I don’t sound like a hick up there—my accent comes out when I’m nervous.”
“No need to be nervous. You’ll be wonderful. Just be your sweet self, and I know everyone will love you as much as I do,” he gushes. “Well, shall we take our seats? I think they plan to serve soon.”
Shane slides an arm behind Laney’s back, effectively pulling her away from me. “Culley, I assume you have your own table? We’ll see you later perhaps. Thank you for driving her here tonight. Enjoy the gala.”
It’s clear Shane means to dismiss me, but Laney turns back to face me.
“Is that okay, Culley? You see your group?”
She’s concerned about leaving me alone. Even after our talk in the car. Even after my rejection.
That does something to my chest. It’s tight and sore as Shane pulls her farther from my reach and settles her into a chair on the other side of him.
“Yes, of course,” I mutter, frowning at his self-satisfied expression. Speech, my ass. It’s painfully obvious he asked her here as his date.
In actuality, no one will be here from my father’s firm. The very last thing Audun Rune is interested in is raising money to fight the S Scourge. I’m beginning to realize I may spend the evening wandering the club’s gilded hallways when a curvy blonde runs over and flings herself at me, nearly knocking me into one of the empty chairs at Shane’s table.
“Culley Rune! Where have you been? You said you were going to call me, naughty boy.” She laughs loudly. “I didn’t know you did the charity circuit. Want to sit with us at the studio’s table? I want Daddy to meet you. He’s looking for a male lead for his new YA book adaptation. I’ve been telling him about you—you have the perfect look. You’ve acted before, right?”
Casting one last look at Laney, I allow the babbling girl to drag me toward her table. Her name escapes me. All I remember is her father is a movie producer and she’s taking acting lessons. I met her at... I don’t know... one of the clubs around here several weeks back. They all run together in
my memory—the clubs and the girls.
“See you later then,” Laney says softly, and I lift a hand in a good-bye wave she cannot see, feeling like I’m letting something fragile and irreplaceable slip through my fingers.
Chapter Fifteen
Tribute and Tears
Our tables are far enough apart I can’t hear Laney’s conversation with Shane. I can tell they get along well, though. She smiles at him as they talk and occasionally throws her head back in laughter. He leans close, draping an arm across her chair back.
It’s a challenge to keep my attention focused on Nicole—that’s the hopeful actress’s name—and the rest of my table mates. Their lively discussion of the movie industry does not interest me in the least. Same goes for Nicole’s flirtatious body language and the blatant way she keeps touching my hand, my arm, my shoulder. I can’t help but sneak looks in Laney and Shane’s direction.
As the evening moves along, he edges his chair incrementally closer to hers. By the time dessert is served, he’s sitting close enough to her that their knees touch. According to the programs on our table, her speech should begin soon. I’ve already decided the minute it’s finished, I’m taking her home. It’s been a long night already, and she needs her rest. Besides that, the bartender was true to his word and sent the bottle of Dom to their table. I’ve counted three glasses Shane has filled for Laney so far.
“Ladies and gentlemen...” There’s a ringing noise I realize is coming from the tapping of a silver fork on a crystal glass. A fit man with thick dark hair and hipster glasses stands at the podium, smiling and speaking into the microphone. “If I could have your attention. It’s about time to begin our program. Hasn’t this been a lovely night so far?”
There is applause from the attendees who seem to be making a concerted effort to wrap up the numerous conversations going on.
“I’m Jack Soderman, news anchor at Action News, and I’m your emcee for the evening. We’d like to start off by thanking some people who’ve made this beautiful night of hope possible.”
The guy rattles off a list of names and corporations, all of which draw polite applause, and then he starts Laney’s introduction. Suddenly, my stomach is filled with swarming bees. I can’t sit still, so I get up and go to the back of the room where I can pace.
