“They’re up ahead. Just say the word ‘deposition’ really slow while you bat your lashes and they’ll believe anything. But I need to tell you guys—”
“Wow! Look at your hair!” Fingers reach uninvited to the nape of my neck, to the layer of black cherry that I had done after work at the salon. The all-blond was boring me to tears and I figured this was still semi-respectable by office standards. “Looking très chic. I love it!” Natasha cries, all hand-flappy, which tells me that she’s most probably drunk. Without stopping to actually hear my answer, she continues, “Who’re your friends?” She sticks a hand out. Lina’s perfectly shaped left brow arches as she accepts it.
“Lina, Law bot. Law bot, Lina.”
Natasha’s heard me call her that so many times, I don’t think it even fazes her anymore. She’s too busy gawking at Nicki’s sleeve of ink, anyway. “Wow, did that hurt?” She reaches out to begin pawing at Nicki’s arm.
“You get used to it,” Nicki offers politely, but her lips are pressed in a tight smile. She hates being touched like that. Giving them wide-eyed looks, I mouth, “Let’s go.”
“So, where was I . . .” I can see Ben’s blond head towering over the others, standing next to Jack. He’s smiling at me, though it’s slightly strained. But his eyes are still raking over my chest and flashing with approval at the strapless red number I bought today. It’s fitted and short, but the skirt flows out like a bell to show my legs off nicely. Slightly formal for the night—especially paired with heels—but with my loose hair and lack of jewelry, I think I can pull off the look. I’ll just channel my inner femme fatale like Nicki does.
I do a cursory scan of heads as I close the distance. Jared texted back to say he’d be here, but I don’t see him yet.
Jack turns to find me standing behind him. “Hello, Reesie.” He wraps an arm around my shoulder and kisses my cheek. I instinctively lean into his affections with a smile, feeling like his little girl again. Then his gaze flickers over my hair and he frowns. “Something’s different.”
Jack’s a true guy’s guy. Flipping up a few strands of my new hair, I offer with a sheepish smile, “At least it’s not my entire head.”
“Hmm . . . yes.” After a moment, “It looks good. Not too wild.” Glancing over my shoulder at my friends, he smiles and offers, “Nice to see you ladies again. How’s the new condo and the jobs?”
“Condo is good. Job not so much.” Lina doesn’t waste words. If she can say something in seven words, she says it in seven words. Some would take her as bitchy or abrupt.
I think she’s charming.
“Well, half ain’t bad. Get that license and you can come work for me, okay?” I’m pretty sure he’s not kidding about that, either, which is great because I’d love to work with Lina.
Turning back to me, Jack says, “I’m heading out, Reese, but thank you for setting this up.” He leans in to add in a low tone, “You’re right. Better than Mrs. Cooke’s church basement.”
I shrug. “It’s the least I could do for my loving stepbrother.”
“Right. Try not to torment him too much tonight.”
“That’s what she’s here for.” I jab my thumb in Lina’s direction.
Shaking his head, Jack walks away, leaving me to face Ben, who quickly reaches out and throws an arm over both Lina and Nicki. “Good to see you two again. Thanks for coming to my party.”
A small part of me spikes with jealousy, wondering if Ben would have tried for one of them had I not been there. There are definite drawbacks to being friends with a male slut who you occasionally mess around with, like that little voice in the back of your head that tells you he’ll probably sleep with your friends too.
“I’m here for him,” Lina corrects a little too sharply, her gray gaze on Mason, who’s standing next to Ben—and, more importantly, to the Twinkie and her friend hanging off him.
“Hi.” Mason wastes no time breaking free of his fawning fans to shift next to Lina, his tone dropping an octave, sounding oddly softer and less robotic. “You made it all right?” He leans in to kiss her cheek.
I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to them together.
I’m still watching them as Ben grabs my attention, yanking on a dark purple tip of hair. “I like it. And I really like the red dress.” Pulling me into his chest—to an innocent bystander, it could probably pass as a congratulatory hug—he murmurs, “What are you up to?”
“Whatever do you mean?” I ask in mock innocence, the comfort of his arms conflicting with the tension running through my spine, knowing Jared’s going to be here.
I feel the vibration from his chuckle through my entire body. “I know it’s something bad. I’m just not sure if I need to be careful or if you have another victim in mind.”
I reach up and give his nose a gentle flick as I step away, realizing I’m slightly reluctant to do so. If I weren’t on a different mission tonight, I might not want to at all. Ben feels really good.
His face softens as he gazes down at me from his impressive height. “Thank you for arranging this night for me.”
“And Mason,” I remind him.
There’s that playful smile of his. “Who’s kidding who? You did this all for me.”
“Are you going to get all emotional about it?”
“No . . .” A wistful smile touches his lips. “But I wish I could kiss you for being so uncharacteristically nice.”
A tiny knot of guilt is forming in my stomach. But then I remind myself that this is Ben. He doesn’t really care why I did it. “Well, then this could work out in your favor. I may be calling in my fake-boyfriend card tonight.”
His head tips back. “Ah, shit, Reese. You can’t do that to me tonight!”
“I’m doing it. You promised.”
“And you promised you wouldn’t get my ass fired.” He looks around as if to make a point. “Half of the firm is here! Including Jack!”
“Relax. Jack is leaving.”
“Yeah, well, so am I.” I watch him suck back a big gulp of his beer, a spark of panic igniting in me. Ben, leaving? “My buddies are having a little party for me back at my house. You and your friends are more than welcome to come—just keep it to yourselves. I don’t want a bunch of lawyers there.”
Relief immediately pours over me and I realize how much I really want to hang out with Ben tonight, Jared or not. “What about Mason?”
Ben lets out a derisive snort. “I’m not worried about Mace. He knows exactly what I’m about.” His eyes drop to settle on my mouth.
“I didn’t order the full-service fake boyfriend model,” I remind him with a hard poke to his stomach, though I feel my heart speeding up its rhythm. Ben doesn’t even flinch, the thick layer of muscle protecting him.
“That doesn’t mean you’re not gonna get it.” He winks, adding somberly, “Just not here.”
“Well . . .” I feel my teeth slide against each other in thought and catch Twinkie’s casual glance over her shoulder as she pretends not to watch us. “Can you at least not make out with anyone else while you’re here? Or I’ll look like the idiot getting cheated on a second time.” I tack on a soft “Please?” at the end for good measure.
“I was hoping to use Mason as a distraction for Mercy, but your friend here kind of f**ked that all up for me.” After a pause, he murmurs, “Hold on,” and pinches my ribs gently. My eyes trail him as he cuts through the crowd to talk to two attorneys from Litigation who can’t stop looking over our way. I’m guessing they’re focused on the two strippers, because their faces light up when they follow Ben over.
“Uh, Reese?” I hear Nicki call out, a shot of tequila resting against her lips as her eyes stay focused on something across the room. “That thing you forgot to mention?”
I don’t even need to look over to know what she’s talking about. Casually flipping my hair, I glance over my shoulder to find Jared and Caroline sitting at a table with a group of people, Jared’s foot tapping to the beat of the cover band playing onstage.
When I turn back to take in my friends’ faces, missing the panic they’d expect in mine if this were an accident, matching scowls form. “What have you done now, Reese?” Nicki says with a sigh, a millisecond before Lina asks, “Did you know that they’d be here?” There’s that hard tone in her voice she has when she’s entirely unimpressed with me. Mason just looks bewildered.
“I may have had an inkling,” I admit.
“Who’s here?” Mason asks, but no one answers him.
Lina slowly rolls on her feet to face the bar. “And how exactly did you know?”
“Long story, and you don’t really want to be an accomplice to this, do you? Just follow my lead, okay?”
She sighs. “I always do. Even when you’re being a bad, bad person. Are you being a bad person tonight, Reese?”
I pat the top of her head, ignoring her question. “Good, supportive friend.”
“What about Ben?” Nicki asks.
“What about me?” his deep voice asks behind me, surprising me enough to jump. I feel the heat of his hand as he settles it on my back. Dipping down to reach my ear, he offers quietly, “Problem solved. Those litigation boys are in heaven.”
I reach back to pat his firm chest, angling my head to see his as I say, “Good fake boyfriend.”
A grimace crawls over his face for a second before it smooths into a smile and his hand disappears from my back. “Fifteen minutes,” he reminds me softly.
From my peripherals, I can see that Jared has caught sight of me and is watching me now. I don’t turn, though. I don’t want it to look like I’m looking for him. Or that I really care one way or another that he’s here. “Okay, there’s something I have to do first. Can you please order me a drink?”
“Where are you going?”
I glance over at the band as the singer announces a short break. “To talk to them.” When I called up The Grill to make reservations and found out that they have a live band on Friday nights, I knew beyond a doubt that this night would be brilliant.
Ben grins. “You going to request a song for me?”
I lean in dangerously close—maybe I shouldn’t be doing this with Jack possibly still floating around and surrounded by the Warner lawyers, but I feel Jared’s eyes still on me and the idea of this bothering him spurs me on—and whisper, “How about I do one better for you?”
Ben’s jaw grows taut as he takes a small, rigid step back, casually checking heads.
With a grin, I practically skip over to the stage in my flirty red dress—when one is possessed by the devil, one must truly embrace the part. I zero in on the singer. He’s the one I have to charm.
And that’s how I end up slinging a guitar over my shoulder five minutes later. I wish I could have brought my own. It’s old and crappy, but I know all its little tricks and secrets. This one will have to do.
Tapping the microphone, I clear my voice. The stage lights aren’t quite strong enough to hide the crowd beyond and so I see the sea of heads turn my way. I’m only slightly nervous. I was never one to get anxious in front of crowds. Perhaps if I was, I wouldn’t have done half the stupid things I did. Now, at least, I’m actually doing something that I’m good at, something I haven’t done since Jared and I were together.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been up on a stage.” That’s all I say, and then I signal the band with a raised hand. Every single employee from Warner is staring slack-jawed at me as the band kicks off the opening notes to “Call Me” by Serena Ryder. Except for Ben, of course. He’s just standing there with his arms folded over his chest. Watching curiously.
And then I start to sing.
Breathing slowly, carrying the notes from the depths of my diaphragm, letting them sail out of my mouth, I sing as my fingers slide and curl and press each chord. It’s a deep, gritty song and it suits my low vocal voice perfectly. Just being up here again, letting my own emotions pour out through someone else’s words in a way that lets me speak my mind without judgment, sends a thrill through my body. I’ve always loved to sing, even when I was little and couldn’t carry a tune. That was one thing Annabelle did for me—put me in singing lessons. She did it because all the other socialite wives had their daughters in choir. But I had no interest in singing in a choir. I joined a band instead. We were pretty good, but we didn’t last long. The drummer and the bassist—brothers—argued too much.
The first night I got up and sang in a dingy Jacksonville bar for Jared was, according to him, the night he knew he wanted to marry me. He said my throaty lilt sent shivers down his spine and through his limbs, not stopping until they wrapped around his heart. Jared has a way with words.