Chapter 7
A Picture’s Worth a Thousand Pains
Scout dragged the order across the scanner as the woman in line chatted about the weather. The steady blip of merchandise being tallied had become the symphony of her days over the past few weeks of working at Clemons.
It had been a week since she’d seen or heard from Lucian. He’d gotten the last word and was now giving her space. The evening after he came to her apartment, a package arrived with a new phone. The note attached was simple and to the point. Now you can call.
He just couldn’t let her get her own damn phone. In a way it pleased her that he’d gone against her wishes because now she had his number again, but it still pissed her off.
She couldn’t make sense of her feelings anymore. Space was good, but the more time that passed the more she missed him. Missing him was dangerous, so she embraced his absence like a vaccine, accepting it was part of the healing process. Sooner or later it had to stop grating on her. Did all women feel so irrational? She didn’t like it, yet couldn’t seem to control her tumultuous emotions.
“Oh, I have a coupon for that, dearie.”
“Okay,” Scout said as she continued to ring up and bag the order.
She slid a few birthday cards over the scanner, and her hand stilled when she reached for the tabloid crossing the belt. Her brain froze. With numb fingers, she lifted the magazine and stared dumbly at the picture on the front. Lucian wore an expression of disinterest as a woman laughed beside him, her arm looped affectionately through his, her palm pressing into his shoulder.
“The price is on the back, dear. And here’s that coupon.”
Scout blinked at the woman waiting to be rung out. Nodding, she turned the tabloid and scanned the price. Her numb hands bagged up the order as quickly as possible and, once her line was empty, she shut out her light.
Her feet carried her to the display where all the magazines were exhibited. She quickly found the one with Lucian on the front. Her stomach knotted until she could barely breathe. The woman was stunning, blond, and nothing like Scout.
Running her finger down the words spread all over the cover, she scanned for the name Lucian or Patras, two words she could immediately recognize. She found the name Patras and tracked the sentence following it.
“New whoa-man in . . .” There was a long word that started with a b, which she didn’t have a shot in hell at sounding out. Shaking her head in frustration, she followed the words until she found a number that was likely the page the article was featured on.
She turned to page four and her knees shook. There were more pictures. Lucian leaning close as Satan’s whore whispered in his ear. Lucian helping the blond jezebel with her wrap. Lucian staring at the camera as he held the door for the fucking tramp!
Scout growled and threw the paper on the belt at her register.
“You all right over there, tiger?”
She looked at Nick. He could read. Snatching up the tabloid, she marched over to his register and waited as he handed his customer the change. Once the customer left he turned to her. “What’s up, Ev?”
“Can you read this?”
“Uh, yeah, but I’d rather not. I don’t really care who found Elvis and what the latest crop circle design is.”
“No, just this article.”
“Um, okay. Why?”
She glanced around anxiously and leaned over his bagging station and whispered, “I can’t read very well.” Interesting that her curiosity outweighed her pride. More irrational behavior she couldn’t make sense of. What was happening to her?
He tipped his head back as though he prepared to laugh like she were joking, but her desperation must’ve showed in her expression, telling him she was quite serious. “For real?”
“Yes. Please don’t say anything. I can read small words, but not a whole article.”
“Okay,” he said, calmly taking the magazine. “But why this article? Why not read something with substance?”
She stabbed her finger at the picture. “I know him.”
“Lucian Patras?”
“Yes.”
He chuckled. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises.”
Scout glanced at their empty lines, knowing they didn’t have much time. “Will you please read it to me?”
He nodded and folded the paper open. “Okay.” He cleared his throat. “New Woman in Billionaire Patras’ Love Life. Lucian Patras was spotted attending a swanky private event with a new bombshell on his arm. Admirers are wondering what happened to the mysterious brunette he attended many affairs with this past winter, but are also pleased to see he’s paired up with Nicole Nottingham, young heiress of Nottingham Cosmetics and budding actress. Although Patras would not offer any comment as to what happened to the blue-eyed brunette he’d spent the winter beside, sources say the couple called it quits some time last April, just before Patras was spotted doing business at his hotel in Paris, France.
“When Nottingham was asked if she and Patras were an item, she giggled and said, ‘Depends how you define the word.’ She then fled into a private benefit with the man in question. Followers are wondering if this one will be The One. The Annual Rose Bowl Charity event takes place this coming Saturday, and enthusiasts are anxious to see if Nottingham will again be on the arm of Folsom’s most eligible bachelor. The event is open to the public and tickets are five hundred dollars a plate. Tickets can be purchased at . . .
“It just goes on to tell you where to buy the tickets,” Nick commented.
Scout was going to be sick. That son of a bitch!
You asked for this!
Her mind took offense to the bitter swirl of jealousy souring her stomach and burning her heart. She’d pushed him away, made him leave and he’d done exactly what any man would do. What made her so special to assume she deserved more?
Love.
She loved him and he was supposed to love her, but he was moving on. Outrage had her trembling. What if she’d truly pushed him away for good? The idea of a life without Lucian was too empty to contemplate. She realized that in the back of her mind she’d always assumed they’d get past this. But how?
She was going crazy. One minute she hated him. One minute she wanted him. The only constant emotion that wouldn’t go away was the fact she still loved him. She searched her mind for some stable thought, but her head was a mess.
“Hey, you okay? You don’t look so good.”
She shook her head, afraid if she spoke she’d puke. Snatching the tabloid, she marched it back to the rack and stuck it with the other rags. Her stiff body slipped back into the space behind her register and she tapped her foot.
He’d betrayed her. She deserved time to cope with her emotions, figure a way to make sense of them. The urgency now suffocating her only complicated matters more. Would she ever think clearly again? Apparently the answer was no, because she was about to do something incredibly stupid.
“Uh, Ev? You gonna be okay?”
Her gaze snapped to Nick. “You’re single, right?”
“Last I checked.”
“What are you doing this Saturday?”
“Nothing. Why?”
“Will you go with me to that function?”
His eyes bulged. “It’s five hundred a plate, Ev!”
“I’ll pay for everything. I’ll even rent you a tux if you don’t have one.”
“Where the hell are you gonna get that kind of money?”
She laughed dryly. “Mr. Lucian Patras himself will sponsor our date.”
He hesitated, seeming reluctant to agree. “What’s your relationship to that guy? Isn’t he a lot older than you?”
“He’s not that much older and I just . . . know him, okay? Will you go? There will be good food and probably an open bar.”
“I guess, but I’m not sure if we’ll fit in. People like us don’t mix with people like Nicole Nottingham and Lucian Patras.”
“Ugh. That woman is a skank!”
Nick held up his palms. “Okay. She’s a skank.”
“Sorry. I’m just . . .” What was she? What was she doing even thinking about going to that function? She didn’t even know what a Rose Bowl was.
She sighed. This was probably a really bad idea, but after she last saw Lucian, she’d been softening. This was good. This showed her exactly why she couldn’t trust him.
A war of indignation and jealousy battled inside of her. There was a point to be made, but she couldn’t predict which point it would be—that she still wanted him or that he didn’t deserve her. Hurt and anger were both unwelcome, but seemed all she had in that moment.
He could take his new phone and sweet words and tell them to someone else. She was going to catch him right in the act with that blond trollop and then what excuses would he have?
Slut!
***
Scout sighed as she glanced in the mirror. Her stupid plan had cost her almost fifteen hundred dollars. Why had she ever agreed to do this?
She’d blown her hair out and left it wild, giving her that freshly fucked look. Her eyes were lined with kohl, making the crystal blue of her irises pop dramatically. She wasn’t good at makeup, but refused to visit Patras to ask the girls at the salon for help. She wanted to catch Lucian completely off guard, and someone might’ve seen her if she went to the hotel.
Her dress was a find. It was nothing like the gowns Lucian had bought her. This was made of slinky black material that fit her hips like a second skin and only reached the middle of her thighs. The top of the dress was loose, hanging in a gathered halter that covered her breasts and drooped almost to her navel. A thin rhinestone chain linked the material at her cleavage. She wore nothing underneath, as even the tiniest G-string would show, and the back of the dress was completely bare to her hips.
Her shoes cost three times as much as the dress. They were strappy black satin with a rhinestone buckle at the ankle. She wished she had a full-length mirror to see if she looked as much like a horse’s ass as she felt, but she didn’t. She’d just have to wait and see Nick’s reaction when he came to pick her up.
As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. Scout grabbed the little purse thingie the girl at the shoe store suggested she buy, and wedged her phone and keys inside. She’d already stuffed it with enough money for the evening and the tickets for the event.
“Coming!”
Shutting off the lights, she carefully took the stairs, very mindful of her shoes’ ability to kill her. She hated high heels, but these babies were serving a purpose. Reaching the bottom, she unlocked the door and pulled it wide. “Ready?”
Nick looked quite debonair in his black tie. His hair was freshly cut and his tailored tux fit him to perfection. Her gaze traveled from his shiny patent leather shoes to his face. His mouth hung wide as he stared back at her.
She drew in a breath, incredibly self-conscious. “What? Is this too much? Should I try to find something else?” Not that she had anything else. “Maybe we shouldn’t go.”
“Ev, you look . . .” He swallowed. His voice was a mere rasp. “Wow. I mean, wow!”
“Yeah?”
He shifted and stood a little taller. Tugging the lapels of his tux, he held out his arm. “Your chariot awaits.” She smiled and took his arm.
Nick drove a well-loved S10 truck of the ugly duckling sort. It was a loud and bumpy ride to the Marion, the hall hosting the Rose Bowl, but Scout didn’t mind. She was just glad he’d agreed to go.
When they arrived, there was a parking attendant ushering a long line of luxury vehicles down the sectioned-off shoulder of the road as valets relieved drivers of their keys. Scout withdrew into herself a bit when she noticed most females were dressed in long, flowing gowns. She glanced at her exposed knees and became very aware of the sharp angle of her bare shoulders on display.
She swallowed. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this?”
Nick glanced at her, then back out the windshield as the line eased forward. “What are you talking about? We’re all gussied up and you spent a ton on the tickets. Might as well have fun.”
Her fingers fidgeted with the billowy material barely concealing her breasts. Never before had she dealt with jealousy. That’s what this was: pure, stupid jealousy because Lucian was moving on just like she told him to do.
Disappointment in her actions made her feel even smaller. She didn’t deserve to go to a function like this and that money should’ve gone toward more important things. None of this was part of her well-thought-out plan.
“Do I just give them the key? Do I need to tip or is that later? This is nicer than my prom was. Holy shit, is that Harvey Geswaldi?”
Scout glanced out the window at the tall man Nick was asking about. She had no idea who Harvey Geswaldi was, and Dugan always drove them so she didn’t know what the parking protocol was. “I don’t know.”
“Hey.”
She turned to Nick and found him studying her, a slight kink to his brow. Her lungs drew in a deep breath.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yes. No. I don’t know. I’m regretting my decision to come here.”
His expression blanked. “Because of me?”
“No, God no. I just . . .” She sighed. “Can I tell you something?”
“Always.”
“I wanted to come to make someone jealous.”
His assessing gaze traveled from her knees, up her thighs, over her unsupported, barely covered breasts, to her face. “Is it Patras?”
“Yeah. Stupid, I know. I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb and he’ll be so preoccupied with his stupid little actress he won’t even see me.”
His frown reappeared. “First of all, Ev, you can’t go by the tabloids. Second, have you seen your reflection? You look crazy good, but not only tonight. You’re really pretty every day. Everyone in there with working male anatomy and heterosexual thoughts will notice you. And third, you’re fun. That Nicole chick can’t compete.”
Scout smiled at his attempt to cheer her, wishing his words could actually calm her nerves. “Lucian’s in his thirties. She’s more his age.”
“You call him by his first name? Wow, you really did meet him, didn’t you?”
Oh, she’d done more than meet him. “I know him well. We sort of had a disagreement.”
It was Nick’s turn to look nervous. “Did you two hook up or something? He’s not gonna come after me for showing up here with you, right?”
“No. Lucian always handles himself with class.” Except with Parker, and surely that was an exception. She hoped she was telling the truth and that the sophistication of the event would prevent any unwanted scenes. “Besides, he probably won’t even notice I’m there.”
Nick smiled. “Well, don’t let age throw your confidence. It’s just a number.” He glanced over his shoulder. “You want to make him see what he gave up? Okay, we’ll put on a nice little show. Come on, let’s get you a drink and have some fun. We’ll pretend we’re rich folk for the night.”
The attendants opened the doors and they were assisted out of the truck. Nick handed over his keys and was given a small white ticket, which he stashed in the breast pocket of his tux.
Someone held the door as they stepped over the threshold, and a throng of guests checking their bags and wraps immediately surrounded them.
“Do you want to check your bag?”
Scout looked at her petite clutch and shook her head. She was territorial when it came to her stuff, and she didn’t want to hinder a fast escape.
Nick took her arm and guided them away from the congested area. She scanned the crowd, and her stomach bottomed out when her gaze settled on Lucian’s tall form. He looked impeccable in his tuxedo.
His dark hair was slicked back naturally like a model lifting out of a swimming pool during a cover shoot. The romantic lighting showed his distinguished, if premature, salt-and-pepper temples, and he had just the right amount of shadow lining his jaw to give him that dangerous tycoon look. He grinned as someone spoke to him.
His tall body was easy to separate from the rest. Broad shoulders filled his jacket and, as her gaze traveled over him, the blond woman beside him distracted her. Nicole Nottingham wore a sequined red gown that displayed her lithe body with an air of class Scout couldn’t muster.
A waiter walked by with a tray of champagne flutes and she snatched one, guzzling down the bubbly liquid fast. Her mouth was incredibly dry. She stashed the empty flute on a mantel to their left and stared as Lucian dismissed the person he was speaking with. He nonchalantly pressed his palm to Nottingham’s bare back—which felt like a punch to Scout’s stomach—and ushered her into the ballroom. Something about the casualness of his touch made it all the more painful to witness.
Scout sucked in a breath as they disappeared. “Do you have the tickets?” Nick asked.
She withdrew them from her bag, self-conscious of the way she’d folded them. Pressing them flat, she handed them over and he gave them to a woman at the desk. Another waiter passed and she grabbed another glass of champagne. This one went down just as fast, but seemed to settle her a bit.
“Ready?” Nick asked.
She took his arm and they followed the guests into the main room. Soft music played as invitees mingled with acquaintances. The chairs were all trimmed in soft shades of rose, and topiaries spilled like waterfalls from the center of each round table.
There were so many flowers, the room smelled like a garden. Crystals hung and candles flickered. The volume of the soft chatter collided with the easy music, creating a low roar that made it difficult to hear.
“I think our table’s this way,” Nick said, guiding them to the back right of the ballroom.
Most of the women wore gowns. Some had short dresses on, but nothing like the dress she’d selected. A cool dew of sweat formed between her breasts, as she grew more uncomfortable about her choice of attire. What was she thinking, wearing a dress like this? She looked like trash.
Men uniformly looked the same. The only telltale differences were in their build and age. It was disorienting, being surrounded by so many men in black. Her steps depended on Nick’s lead as her legs went into autopilot so her eyes could search for Lucian.
They reached their table and Scout took a seat so she was facing the crowd. She wanted to be able to observe from the corner. At their place settings, Nick found a menu and commented on the formality of the courses as she continued her fruitless game of I Spy.
“Champagne?”
Scout turned as a waitress held out a tray. “Thank you,” she said, replacing her empty glass with a full one.
“You may want to slow down. We haven’t eaten yet,” Nick whispered. “I’m going to go up to the bar and see about getting a beer.”
She nodded, ignoring his warning, and sipped from the flute. The room grew louder as more people arrived. Where was he? Her gaze snagged on a flicker of red and she spotted Nottingham. And there was Lucian, right beside her.
Her molars locked. He wasn’t touching her, but the woman stood stoically by his side, clearly staking her claim to him. Someone must have said something funny. Nottingham laughed and her tiny, scarlet-painted nails caressed the sleeve of his jacket.
Scout finished her champagne and guzzled the water at her place. She was incredibly thirsty for some reason. Magically, a white-gloved hand swept her empty glass away and replaced it with a new one.
Nick reappeared with a glass of dark amber beer. Its heady scent mingled awkwardly with the pure fragrance of roses. “So what happens now? Is it like a wedding? Do we dance after we eat? I’ve never been to anything like this.”
“I’m not sure.”
They each silently sipped their drinks and surveyed the room. “Hey, there’s your guy. You gonna say hello?”
Scout’s gaze didn’t leave them. The more she watched Lucian and Nicole, the more she admitted how beautiful they were together. She didn’t know if she should be happy for him or cry. The champagne was going to her head. She hadn’t eaten much that day and now her bladder was painfully full.
Her mind searched for courage she didn’t have so that she could make it to the ladies’ room. “I need to use the restroom,” she whispered to Nick.
“Okay. Hey, check it out. They have an omelet station. Rich people are funny.”
Nick was wonderful at going with the flow, she decided. She envied how comfortable he was with his station in comparison to the rest of the guests. There were likely others like themselves there, but Scout couldn’t pick them out of the crowd.
Her eyes searched dimly lit doorways around the room and found a sign with fancy script. That could be the ladies’ room. She stood and was relieved her legs were working. However, as she tucked in her chair and took her first step, she swayed with the effects of the four glasses of champagne she’d consumed in the past twenty minutes. She needed to slow down.
She shuffled through the crowd, mindful of some eyes—mostly male—watching her make her journey. She was so afraid Lucian might see her. She didn’t chance looking at him. Head down, she made her way to the door she hoped was the restrooms.
Once she reached the perimeter of the ballroom, it was easier to slink by. She turned into the small hall and spotted a woman coming out of a door. Scout pressed the door wide and breathed a sigh of relief when she found a wall of sinks.
She took care of business and washed her hands. It was jarring, seeing herself in the full-length mirror of the ladies’ room. In her high heels, her legs looked a mile long, especially because her dress was so short. Her butt was a tight little ridge covered in black, and her back was completely bare except for where her hair hung past her shoulders.
“I love your dress.”
She turned and found a woman in a blue cocktail dress washing her hands. “Thank you.”
“I wish I had the guts to wear something like that. Although, I don’t know if my husband would want to leave the house then.” She laughed. “He already gave me an earful about dragging him here again. But what are you going to do? If it was up to him we’d never go anywhere.”
Scout laughed nervously. “Yeah.”
“Well, nice talking to you.” The woman left.
Scout glanced back at her reflection. Shit. She wished there were a service exit so she could sneak out. What was she doing there? Lucian was with a date, and she’d told him to move on. It wasn’t right for her to come spying on him. She didn’t belong there. It was a painful and expensive lesson, but she got it.
She pressed through the door and decided to tell Nick she changed her mind and wanted to leave. Her head was fuzzy and it took her a moment to locate her table. Had something changed in the room? It appeared different from this vantage point. Her footing slipped and she quickly grasped the arm of a man passing by. “Excuse me. Sorry.”
She was drunk. Hopefully the first course would be served soon and she could get something in her stomach before they left. Or maybe they should just hit a diner. Scout looked up and spotted Lucian, smiling as an older woman pulled his lapel to whisper something in his ear. His eyes scanned the room, and when they landed on her it was as though a thousand silent words came crashing down.
His expression fell as their gazes locked. Whatever the woman whispering to him was saying, she was sure he wasn’t listening. His lips parted and Scout could see the questions running through his head as his brow creased. He glanced to her left and right, perhaps looking for her escort.
Her heart raced as her breath came fast. This was a mistake. Maybe if she left before he caught up to her, he’d think it was a case of mistaken identity. He didn’t need to know how immature she was and that she’d come here to spy on him.
He turned to the older woman and appeared to excuse himself. Nottingham straightened like a lap dog prepared to follow her master, but he gestured to her with a steadying movement of his hand to wait and handed her his drink. She looked crestfallen and frowned at the two glasses now awkwardly filling her dainty, manicured hands.
The second he stepped in Scout’s direction, panic set in. She spotted their table and, with as much grace as she could manage, quickly worked her way back to Nick. Her hip bumped into a guest and she apologized quickly, glancing back to see Lucian hot on her tail.
She didn’t bother to take her seat when she reached the table. “Come on. We have to go!”
Nick glanced up at her, startled. “Already? Why?”
“Because—”
“Ms. Keats.”
Nick’s gaze darted over her shoulder. “Holy shit,” he muttered.
Scout swallowed, feeling the blood rush from her face and turned. “Mr. Patras, nice to see you here.”
He scowled. His gaze travelled over her barely there dress and over her shoulder, giving Nick an assessing glare. “I didn’t expect you to be in attendance.”
“It was a last-minute thing.”
“A very expensive last-minute thing,” he muttered. He extended his hand to Nick. “Lucian Patras.”
Nick stood. “Nick Ramsey. Nice to meet you.”
They shook and Lucian turned his gaze back to her, his displeasure at her presence slightly concealed, but very much obvious nonetheless. Her spine stiffened at the indignity of being caught and made to feel foolish. She was mad at herself but linked it all back to the intimidating man staring her down.
Her chin lifted. “You’ll have to introduce me to your date,” she said succinctly.
His lips tightened. “Might I have a word?”
She glanced back at Nick, who shrugged. “I think they’ll be serving dinner soon—”
His fingers wrapped around her arm. It was a casual gesture, but there was steel behind his grip. “Just a moment of your time.”
She barely had a chance to shoot Nick an apologetic glance before Lucian dragged her away from the table. “You’re hurting my arm,” she hissed as he deftly worked his way through the crowd. “Where are we going?”
He didn’t answer. Her feet worked hard to keep up with his clipped pace as he shuffled her down a corridor and out a door. They were in a courtyard when he finally released her. She glared at him, rubbing her arm.
“What are you doing here?” he hissed.
It was her turn to scowl. “Celebrating the Rose Bowl.”
“Do you even know what the Rose Bowl is, Evelyn?”
No. “Yes,” she answered indignantly.
He gave her a look that called her a liar. “Who’s the guy?”
“I believe introductions have been made.”
He stepped closer and she stepped back. “Don’t play games with me. Who is he?”
“A friend,” she quickly relented.
“What kind of friend?”
“Lucian, are we really going to do this?”
“Oh, we’re doing this,” he growled, stepping closer again and causing her to take another retreating pace back. She glanced around the garden. It appeared they were alone.
“I think we should go back inside.”
His eyes narrowed. “That’s some dress you’re wearing.”
“I . . . I misunderstood the formality of the evening.”
“A slight breeze and your nipples will show.”
She uncomfortably crossed her arms over her chest. Damn him. His finger trailed over her bare shoulder, and she shivered.
“You’ve had too much to drink and they haven’t served dinner yet.”
“I’m fine.”
He stepped closer again and she found it impossible to step back. “Why are you here?” he whispered, his fingers gently tugging her arms away.
Her hands tingled and she insisted it was a result of the champagne. The tip of his index finger trailed over the slight swell of her breast, sweeping beneath the billowy fabric and coming dangerously close to her bare nipple.
Unwanted company interrupted the moment. “Lucian?” He stilled and she sucked in a breath. Slowly he lowered his hand and turned.
Nicole Nottingham stood at the door they’d exited, her long arms crossed over her perfect chest as though she had a chill. Scout stepped back. The woman’s face was questioning. Lucian paced back and Scout nearly cried at what the act implied.
Lucian was with Nicole. She was his date and it was inappropriate for them to be out there in the garden alone.
He turned and Nicole walked with the grace of a floating angel to his side. Scout hated her for being so perfect. She glanced at Lucian then to Scout questioningly. “Nicole Nottingham, this is Evelyn Keats.”
The sting at having her name second in the introduction burned through her. She extended her hand and Nottingham did the same, turning her palm downward as though she expected her to kiss it. The shake was a mere gripping of fingers that carried much more class on the other woman’s end.
“A pleasure,” she said slowly then turned to Lucian. “Dinner is about to be served, darling. We should go inside.”
Darling? Scout was going to be sick.
“I’ll be in in a minute.”
The woman’s delicate smile twitched as though she didn’t want to leave them alone out there, but she retreated anyway. Once she was gone, Lucian turned on her. “Stop drinking. You’ve had enough.”
“You’re not my father.”
His jaw ticked. “No, I certainly am not. Come, I’ll walk you inside.”
Was that it then? Was he really okay with her presence? He took her arm, this time without the force he’d used to get her out there. Her world was spinning and she was again thirsty.
The volume of the room was stifling. Her steps slowed as her pace was unsteady. Lucian turned and frowned at her. “Are you all right? Do you need to sit down?”
She tugged her arm out of his grip. “I’m fine.” She was on the verge of tears. Why had she come here?
He glowered. “I’m calling Dugan to take you home.”
“Lucian!” she snapped. “I am not a child. I have as much right to be here as anyone.”
Easing close he hissed, “You’re drunk and your body’s about to fall out of that scrap you’re passing off as a dress. I’ll be damned if you take another sip of alcohol and have that boy putting his paws all over you as he helps you out the door. Who the hell is he anyway?”
“It’s none of your business. You have your own date to worry about.”
His onyx eyes turned challenging. “What’s the matter, Evelyn? Having second thoughts?”
Her palm twitched and she had the urge to slap him. “Not at all, darling. I’m just here to enjoy myself. What you do is your business. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I must get back to my date.”
She turned to walk away as his punishing grip closed on her arm again, cutting off her fast escape. He growled in her ear, his warm breath a hot caress over her neck. “Don’t fucking play games with me, Evelyn. You won’t like the result.”
She laughed derisively to cover her discomfort. “Oh, you don’t need to worry about me playing games, Lucian. That’s your style, not mine.”
He released her arm. “We’ll see.”
She took her escape the moment it was available. When she returned to their table, adrenaline was coursing through her veins so quickly her limbs were shaking.
“You okay?” Nick asked.
“Fine.” She turned. “Where’s the waitress?”
“Why?”
“I’m out of champagne,” she grumbled, very much wanting another drink.
He gave her a measuring look and she tried for a reassuring smile, but failed. “I’ll go get you one.”
Nick stood and went to the bar. Scout’s gaze traveled to Lucian’s table and saw him making apologies as he took his seat next to the trollop in the red gown. A waiter passed and Scout managed to snag a glass of champagne and drink it down before Nick returned.
Lucian’s gaze landed on her, heavy with warning. She lifted her glass and saluted him from afar. His eyes narrowed.
Nick returned and she looked away. She smiled as he placed a fresh glass in front of her. Servers brought out the first course, a light salad with mandarin oranges and some sort of raspberry dressing. Scout didn’t have much of an appetite, but it was in her best interest to eat.
The first course was cleared away and replaced with a lovely pasta dish. Delicate little pillows of pressed pasta were stuffed with a salmon mousse and drizzled in a vodka sauce.
As her stomach adjusted, her equilibrium seemed to right itself enough for her to have another drink. The people at their table were nice. They breezed over casual topics and by the third course, Scout somehow managed to forget Lucian’s presence, and by forget, she meant force herself to look in his direction only once a minute rather than steadily scrutinizing his every move.
After dinner her stomach was happy and her body felt light. Music changed to a more upbeat selection, and couples slowly made their way to the dance floor. Scout turned and realized there was a band as well as a prerecorded selection of music.
Her gaze returned to Lucian and found him watching her. Nottingham chatted with the woman to her right. Her mind went back to the first affair he’d ever taken her to. Scout recalled her fear of dancing that evening. She didn’t fear such things now. They’d taken many private dance lessons, something she now realized she missed.
Her lips curled in a soft grin and she made a barely perceptible nod, calling a momentary truce. His eyes softened and she wondered if he was recalling the same memories.
Their connection was severed as Nicole stood. Scout’s stomach knotted as she leaned down and whispered in Lucian’s ear, her dainty hand brushing lightly over his shoulder. Nottingham left, and when Lucian looked back to Scout she lowered her gaze, no longer wanting to play at this game.
“Want to dance?” Nick asked.
She swallowed. “Sure.” She’d dragged him here and he’d been a great sport so far. The least she could do was dance if that was what he wanted to do.
The music was an older song with a Motown swing to the beat. They slowly trotted around each other, and she forced a smile on her face. The alcohol in her system helped her to not overthink the fact that Lucian was watching them. When the song ended, she grinned at her date and caught her breath.
“May I cut in?”
Her steps faltered as she pivoted and found Lucian at her back. She glanced nervously at Nick, who swept his arm out invitingly and stepped aside. The song was not anything like the one that was just playing. A slow climb started on the piano as only one man sang slowly into the microphone.
Lucian stepped in front of her and took her hand. Her fingers curled over his and her palm settled on his shoulders, his scent a sweet form of torture to her senses. Peace swept over Scout as he pulled her close. He led them slowly in circles and his presence enveloped her. She closed her eyes and breathed in the welcoming, familiar scent of him.
“You look beautiful tonight.”
His voice climbed into hidden places of her soul that shook with a longing almost impossible to contain. She was tired of fighting. “Thank you.”
“I asked them to play this song for us.”
Her lashes fluttered open. She glanced at him then to the band. Violins played softly from the shadows of the stage as the pianist sang. She focused on the words as Lucian glided with her.
“I’ve never heard it before,” she said.
“It’s by One Republic. It reminds me of you.”
“Oh, Lucian . . .” She couldn’t do this.
“Shhh, just let me have this moment of holding you without arguing about the past. I miss you, Evelyn.”
She smiled sadly and blinked back tears. Her cheek rested over his strong chest, the beat of his heart echoing beneath the beautiful, lyrical vocals.
“Maybe I’m just dreaming out loud, but until then . . . Come home. Come home.”
Her eyes closed as the words washed over her. Her heart wanted to simply wish away the past month and start back where they’d been before he broke her. As the song concluded and their steps slowed, she considered saying fuck it all and telling him just that. But as they stepped apart, her eyes caught on the stunning beauty in the red dress observing them.
Scout’s peace faltered as she drew in a deep breath and stepped away. “Thank you.”
“Evelyn . . .”
She shook her head. “You’re here with her, Lucian. Go be with her.”
He blinked. His eyes creased and she thought perhaps he might deny that they were together, but he simply nodded and stepped back. Scout watched him turn away first and then retreated to the ladies’ room, fighting back the emotions threatening to break the fragile façade she held by a string.
Locking herself in a stall, she pressed her cheek to the wall and held her stomach as she cried silently and without tears. Would she ever stop loving him? Even after everything he’d done, she couldn’t deny that she loved him more than anyone in this world and she’d never overlook the fact that he gave her away.
Once Scout had her emotions under control, she brushed her hands down her dress and tried for good posture. With trembling fingers, she unlatched the stall door and came to an abrupt stop.
“Enjoying yourself?”
Scout’s lips parted as she eyed the beautiful Nicole Nottingham in her glamorous gown and long blond hair. She was even more stunning up close, intimidatingly so.
Scout was too taken off guard to answer. Nicole took in her appearance, an assessing expression in her calculating eyes that told Scout she wasn’t impressed with what she saw. It took everything she possessed not to cover herself. Instead, she stood straight and met the blond bombshell’s challenging glare.
“I must say, I thought you’d make an appearance before now. When you didn’t show up over the past few weeks, I assumed you might not. Your presence this evening took me by surprise. Lucian also seemed a bit put out by your attendance.”
Scout narrowed her eyes. “I don’t usually clear my schedule with him.”
Nicole’s painted red lips quirked. “Of course not. I’ve looked into you, Ms. Keats. Interesting that before you dated Lucian, you didn’t exist. However did you two meet?”
She’d “looked into” her? What the hell did that mean? Scout didn’t need some rich heiress traipsing around in her past. If her background was exposed it would embarrass Lucian, something he claimed not to care about, but Scout had worried over frequently.
Scout refused to show any sign of insecurity. “Kind of you to care so much. If you have questions, I suggest you ask Lucian. Or isn’t he open with you?”
Her manicured eyebrow arched slowly. “You’re a feisty little thing. I just want to make sure that we’re perfectly clear. Lucian’s here with me and he’s leaving with me. I’d like to leave the baggage at the door if you know what I mean.”
Scout jerked back. “Did you just call me baggage?”
“It was the kindest word I could think of,” Nottingham said haughtily.
Scout’s mouth gaped and she snorted. Wasn’t this little viper interesting? “Really?” She tilted her head and smiled, amused. The champagne had apparently given her a solid pair, and Scout was grateful for the false courage.
“Well, let me enlighten your stunted vocabulary, Ms. Nottingham. The only baggage here is under your eyes. And as far as where I came from, or what I am to Lucian, it’s none of your damn business. You can try to intimidate me all you want, but your first mistake was following me in here at all. It reeks of insecurity. You’re nothing but a high-class act on the hunt for a better name, when I know the man behind the name.
“If you think coming in here and cornering me will impress him or intimidate me, you’re wrong. I thank you for the display. It’s enlightened me as to how hollow this charade the two of you are putting on actually is. You don’t know him. And while you may have his company, I have his heart. So, if you’ll excuse me, darling, I must be getting back.”
Scout swept past the willowy creature and came up short when she called her name. “Scout.”
She involuntarily turned and Nicole smiled wickedly. “Like I said, before Lucian, you didn’t exist, but I did find some curious information on who you were, Evelyn. For instance, you also go by Scout and your mother’s a junkie.” She made a patronizing pout with her lips that smacked of pity, and Scout’s stomach dropped. “I’d hate for that sort of personal information to fall into the wrong hands. Patras is a name that can afford some bad press, but wouldn’t tolerate being sullied with the sort of filth that shows up at a sophisticated affair dressed as a hooker.”
It was Scout’s turn to gape. How had she found out about Pearl? She stepped into the woman’s personal space and the she-bitch had the good sense to ease back. “I think you’ve made a mistake, Ms. Nottingham. You see, there’s only one whore here, and she’s wearing red. Come near me again and I’ll show you exactly how low-class I can be.”
Scout turned and marched out of the room. Her legs carried her right to the bar. “May I please have a shot of tequila?”
The bartender raised a brow and poured the crystal liquid from a stout bottle into a tiny glass. He placed a slender green lime on a napkin and slid it across the bar. With trembling hands, she tipped the shot back and savored the burn as it made its way down to her shaking insides.
“Hey, are you okay?”
She turned and found Nick. “Can we get out of here?”
He frowned and eyed her suspiciously. He jerked around and glared at Lucian. Scout followed his gaze. Nottingham was whispering to Lucian, who was scowling. He stood and turned away from his date, and scanned the room.
When his gaze fell on her, she narrowed her eyes. Lucian’s brow lowered. He glanced back at Nottingham briefly, seeming to blow her off.
“Can I get you anything else, Miss?” the bartender asked.
“Do you want me to get the truck?” Nick asked.
She turned to the bartender. “I’ll have a tequila sunrise.” He nodded and went about concocting the drink. She turned to Nick. “Did you ever just want to say fuck it and do something crazy?”
“Sure.”
She couldn’t keep up with her emotions. Jealousy teetered between shame and indignation. It was all a mess. She was a mess. “Do you want to stay or go?” she asked, letting him make the decision.
He turned back and gave Lucian an assessing glance. “Did he say something that upset you?”
“No, but the slut he’s here with basically called me white trash in the bathroom.”
His nostrils flared and he mumbled something that sounded like, “Fucking rich people.” Sighing, he held out his arm. “Well, lovey, shall we show them how trashy people dance?”
She smiled and took a hefty sip of her cocktail, the sweet cherry a perfect compliment to the tangy tequila. “I’d love to.”
With the dinner hour over, the band kicked it up a notch. Scout didn’t know music and she wasn’t a great fast dancer, but she knew how to fuck and she decided dancing was like fucking, but with clothes on. Turned out, Nick was a great dance partner.
His large hands held her hips as she ground her behind into him. Her arms dangled high above her head as she let the rhythm seep into her limbs. A light dew of sweat coated her skin and by the third song, the liquor permeated her brain and she let go.
It didn’t matter that they were making a display. Everyone had drawn their conclusions the moment she stepped foot into the room wearing a dress too showy for their elitist tastes.
Nick turned her and laughed as he dropped low on his haunches, bobbing with the beat. She did the same and when she tried to bounce up, she lost her balance and tipped back. Her hand reached for him and he quickly pulled her back up to her full height.
She lurched to the left when something yanked on her arm. Dizzy with exertion and too much champagne and tequila, she stumbled and came face to face with Lucian. He glowered at her and growled, “Enough!”
“Hey,” Nick called, coming to her aid.
Lucian turned like a panther ready to attack. “Back off, kid. She’s drunk and you’re not helping.”
Scout snatched her arm from his grip. “I am not drunk, Lucian.” That was a lie.
He leaned close. “No? You almost fell on your ass. You’re making a scene.”
She drew back. “I’m not the one making a scene. You are! You and that waspy bitch you came here with. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going back to what I was doing. Nick—”
Lucian spun her so quickly she nearly did fall on her ass. “I said enough.”
She shot up on her toes and got in his face. “You don’t call those shots anymore. I’m a grown woman and can take care of myself.”
His chest expanded as he drew in a long breath. Through gritted teeth he said, “I’m giving you one minute to pack it up and leave. Either that, or I’ll have you escorted out of here.”
Mortification and hurt had her lips trembling. How dare he? She stood there indignantly, daring him to embarrass her like that. If he followed through on his threat, she’d never forgive him.
She glanced around. People crowded them, gyrating and dancing in a world of their own. Past the dance floor, she spotted Nottingham speaking animatedly with a woman holding a clipboard. She pointed at them and the woman spoke into a microphone at her ear.
They had every right to be there, but knowing Lucian, he likely paid a great deal to whatever the hell a Rose Bowl was and was a prominent sponsor. They’d lick his ass if he asked them to. He had the power to get them kicked out, which she didn’t believe he’d truly do. But there was no way she’d give that red-lipped slut of his the satisfaction of seeing them escorted off the premises.
Her vision shimmered with unshed tears. She pressed her lips tight and glared at him. “I hate you,” she whispered, and marched off the dance floor.
“Ev, wait up.” Nick hustled after her.
When she passed the coat check, she halted and stomped her foot. “I forgot my bag.”
“Hey, don’t let that asshole make you cry. We were just having fun and he’s pissed because he wants you.”
“Oh, he doesn’t want me, Nick. He just wants me to leave so he can have his little actress.”
Nick sighed. “I’ll go get your bag and meet you out front.”
He quickly turned and went back into the ballroom. She turned and rushed through the door, her heel catching on the runner and causing her to go down with a thump that would’ve likely hurt had she not been so drunk. Strong arms lifted her off the ground and she shoved them away, brushing the hem of her dress down her thighs.
“Ms. Keats, are you all right?”
She looked up at the familiar voice and when she saw it was Dugan helping her up, his eyes creased in concern, she lost it. A wall of tears shimmered and collapsed over her lashes. “No,” she sobbed. “I’m definitely not all right, Dugan.”
His lips parted beneath his thick, handlebar mustache. “Here, let me help you.”
He gathered her in his arms and escorted her away from the door. She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I’m drunk,” she admitted pathetically. “I’m really drunk and I embarrassed him.”
His lips pursed as he opened the passenger door of the limo and helped her sit so her feet hung over the pavement. He squatted down and withdrew his handkerchief. She winced as he blotted the scrape on her knee.
“Pardon my French, Ms. Keats, but any man who lets you walk away is a fucking idiot and deserves to be embarrassed.”
Her sob cut off and she looked at him, shocked. Was she that drunk or did he really just say that? She suddenly cracked up, giggles pouring from her lips as she draped her hand on his shoulder and held her stomach. “You’re right, Big D. He is a fucking idiot.”
“Am I interrupting?”
She and the chauffeur drew up short. Lucian towered over them, an unimpressed and quite put-out expression marring his beautiful face. His eyes traveled over them and stilled when he noticed her knee.
Dugan stood and Lucian took his place. He peeled back the handkerchief and made a sound of exasperation. “Goddamn it, Evelyn.”
“I swear it was the shoes,” she said. Dugan handed him a bottle of water from the limo and Lucian wet the handkerchief and dabbed it over her abraded skin. She winced and hissed at the sting.
“Stay still,” he snapped.
Fucking idiot. She giggled and hiccupped. Crap, she was definitely plastered. As he doctored up her knee, Dugan producing a small bandage and some ointment, she watched how the streetlights turned Lucian’s dark hair almost blue. Without thinking, she ran her fingers through it, and he stilled.
His gaze slowly traveled to her face and the air became charged. Dark eyes stared at her, not seeming to trust the energy between them. “Why did you come tonight?” he whispered in a voice so low, she could barely hear it.
“I needed—”
“Lucian!”
Jerked out of the quiet moment they each turned. Nottingham stood glaring at them, a gold wrap draped over her long arm. Lucian stood and Scout spotted Nick waiting with his keys and her clutch. The truck was idling behind the limo.
Dear God, when would this nightmare end?
She slowly climbed out of the limo and touched Dugan’s arm. “Thank you, Big D, for coming to my rescue yet again.”
Nottingham scoffed and rolled her eyes. She stepped close to Lucian and handed him her wrap, turning her back expectantly. She might as well have peed on his ankle.
Lucian held the gold wrap dumbly for a moment and then as though pulled on puppet strings, placed it on her narrow shoulders. His fingers never touched her. He nodded to Dugan, who gestured to the back door of the limo. Nottingham turned her picturesque face, and a slow, wicked smile curled her lips.
“It’s nice to see that they know when to take the trash out around here,” she muttered snootily.
Scout unsteadily stepped forward and Lucian held up a hand halting her. Nicole gracefully slid into the limo and Lucian stepped to the door. “Darling . . .” the shadow of her arm extended over the seat and Scout could imagine her self-satisfied grin.
“Dugan, take Ms. Nottingham home.” He slammed the door.
“Gladly,” Dugan said, rounding the front of the car.
Scout stood paralyzed. He’d sent her away. For some reason the triumph at seeing the car drive off was bittersweet. Nothing would erase the scene she caused tonight, but Scout knew she’d won in some fashion.
Lucian turned and faced her, his hands in his pockets. His anger seemed replaced with something else. She caught the slight way the side of his mouth kicked up as he stared down at her. She didn’t know what to say.
He turned to Nick. “I’ll be seeing Ms. Keats home this evening. Thank you for bringing her.”
“Uh . . .” Nick looked at her for conformation. “Ev?”
She glanced nervously at her co-worker, betting he never imagined their evening playing out like this. “It’s fine. Lucian can take me home. I’ll see you on Monday.”
Lucian frowned.
She ignored him. “Thank you for being my date.”
Nick nodded slowly and handed over her purse. She took it and they watched as he climbed into his truck and drove away, the roar of the engine fading away in the distance. Lucian turned and glanced at her. He didn’t say a word, just watched her.
She shifted on her ridiculous shoes. “Is Dugan coming back for us?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No.”
“How are we getting out of here?”
“I’ll hail a cab.” His hands remained in his pockets as if he were forcing himself to keep them there. “Why did you come here tonight, Evelyn?”
She looked down. “I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. Tell me.”
“I wanted to see . . .”
“Me?”
“Her,” she admitted. “I wanted to see who she was.”
“She’s nothing.”
She laughed without humor. “Don’t tell her that.”
“I’m sorry she spoke to you that way.”
Scout met his gaze. “She wants you.”
He smirked. “She can’t have me.”
“Did you sleep with her?”
“No.”
“Kiss her?”
“No.”
“Are you attracted to her?”
“I’m attracted to you.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
He drew in a slow breath. “Nicole’s an attractive woman, but she isn’t my type.”
“She looks nothing like me.”
“Exactly,” he said. A few beats passed. “How do you know Nick Ramsey? Who is he to you?”
“He works with me.”
“Are you attracted to him?”
She smirked. “He’s not my type.”
Lucian smirked and stepped closer. His hand slipped from his pocked and he ran his fingers down the filmy sheath of her dress. “This dress is something else. Did you buy it for me?”
She shut her eyes and breathed him in. “No.”
“Liar.”
“Lucian—”
“Will you come home with me?”
Her eyes shot open. She was frustrated her intoxicated brain was not as sharp as it should be. “I can’t.”
“You can. You just have to say yes. I’ll take care of you. Get you something for your hangover in the morning.”
His hand traveled up her neck to her ear, tugging on her lobe softly and sending shivers chasing over her shoulders and down her spine. Her lashes lowered as she tipped her head back. She could fall asleep. “We shouldn’t.”
“I won’t touch you. It’ll kill me, but I’ll behave. I know you’re drunk. Come home with me, Evelyn. I miss you in my bed.”
She breathed through her nose, swaying just enough to remain upright. “Now who’s lying?”
“Say yes,” he rasped.
She barely made a sound. “Yes,” she breathed.
That one word snapped him into motion. A cab was hailed and she was tugged inside. The broken-in leather was sunken in and soft. She shut her eyes and moaned as the car lurched forward. Her stomach was not happy.
“You okay, baby? Want some water? I still have the bottle Dugan gave me.”
She held out her hand blindly and heard him unscrew the top. Drawing the bottle to her lips, she drank greedily, causing the plastic to crackle in her grip. Lucian sat quietly in the dark. His fingers delicately traced up and down her thigh. The motions of the car made her insides swirl nauseatingly but his touch kept her grounded, a tight smile pulling on her lips.
Visions of the evening danced in her head, distorted and not lining up with what she recalled. Red dresses and sharp tongues, tuxedoes and sunrises. Bodies writhing and pounding music thrumming in her ears. Slowly, the visions faded away and all that was left was the gentle sway of the car and Lucian’s touch caressing her knee.
“We’re here,” he whispered.
“Mmphh.” She was too tired to form words, afraid if she opened her eyes the dizziness would intensify and make her ill. Her body was lifted and slid into warm fresh air and then familiar scents, rich with nostalgic meaning, greeted her nose. His shoes clicked on the refined tile underfoot as he carried her to wherever they were going. Something pinged and the scent changed to faded perfume and floor polish.
The world grew still and her mind slipped away. She gasped at the sound of another bell. “Shh. I have you.”
She smiled and snuggled deeper into his hold. “Lucian . . .” If she was dreaming, she never wanted to wake up.