Against all my expectations, Hopper doesn’t turn cold. He doesn’t nail on me or change his attitude toward me at all. After the way he skedaddled off as fast as his limo could carry him after dropping me home last night, I half expected that he wouldn't show for me. He’d told me what time to be ready but I lay awake half the night sure that he was covering his bases until he could find someone else. I never expected him to show.

Which I guess goes to show that it doesn’t do any good to anticipate bad outcomes for everything.

Telling him about what happened and not having him do a complete turnabout on me is liberating. When we pull up at the venue, Hopper climbs out of the back seat behind me and takes my hand like a real boyfriend. He must see how gobsmacked I am by the mansion sitting on a manicured lawn that sweeps down to a sparkling ocean.

“It’s okay, it’s just a house,” he whispers, tipping down to my ear so his face gets entangled in my hair.

Just that makes my insides go all skittery. Hopper does crazy things to my body just by coming close. Just with a few fingers grazing over my skin. I can’t help but wonder what he’d do if he had me stripped naked, alone, where he could do whatever he wanted with me.

“Such a big one,” I murmur.

If he hadn’t informed me it was a private house on the way here, I’d have assumed it was a hotel or some kind of private yacht club.

“Yeah, well they still have bathrooms they have to use like normal people. Just think of that if anyone tries to intimidate you.”

He makes me laugh with his irreverence for the upper class society. That relaxes me and I lean into the side of his chest, relishing the solidity of the flexing muscle.

Hopper tucks my arm through his and I have a momentary fantasy of me being the bride today and him my groom. I have to push that out fast. With me on his arm, he still keeps his fingers entwined through mine, resting on his thick forearm. I’m sure he does it to keep my heart skittering around in my chest from the heat of his touch. He leads me up the wide steps to the magnificent entrance and we enter.

A table fit for a king’s breakfast is set up in the foyer and piled high with gifts. Henry follows us and sets an exquisitely wrapped box down before retreating. I half wish I could go with him. He’s bound to have way more fun in the servants quarters. If that’s what you call them. I only know that word from watching Downtown Abbey inside jail. And taking a lot of shit from the women for being stuck up and not watching Idol or Big Brother, or all the other endless reality shows they watched to take themselves away from their unreal personal reality.

A great favorite with the inmates was the millionaire matchmaker show. They’d shout catcalls at the contestant hunting down a wife, offering him all sorts of lewd opportunities if he just came and sprung them out of prison. If those women could see me now, what the hell would they think of me, Grace Hart, being a player on one of those types of dates with my own billionaire?

I’m feeling pretty good about myself. Knowing that Hopper thinks I’m beautiful and walking into the glamorous celebration on his arm. We certainly attract a lot of stares. Too many actually. The nerves pick up in my tummy as I quiz myself on why everyone’s looking at us.

“Hopper, Darling, you’re here at last.”

A stunning woman with a curtain of red gold hair falling in waves over one shoulder, envelops Hopper in her arms. With a side swipe of her skinny elbow, she deftly manages to knock me out of his hold. A surge of annoyance flies through me, knowing that she shoved me on purpose. It’s swiftly followed by the impulse to wrench her off of my man.

Calm down, Grace. He’s not yours. It’s probably better she has him. She looks more like his type.

It seems like I can’t quite let myself believe in Hopper’s teasing of his people. I’m still anticipating the worst. I’ve just settled myself into the acceptance of the reality I see in front of me, when Hopper extracts himself firmly from the woman’s grasp. He reaches out for me and draws me in close, nestling me into the firm abs running down his right side. Why is my heart pounding like this all over again?

“Sophie I’d like you to meet my girlfriend, Grace Hart.”

“Oh,” she mewls, with something like a pout, which looks dumb on a woman her age.

She must be thirty easily because women in their twenties don’t Botox their face, do they? “I thought you brought a cousin or something. You never said you were off the market.”

“Yes, we’ve been dating quietly for, how long is it now, Angel?”

He turns to me and I gulp at being put on the spot. And at being called Angel in front of others. Sophie won’t stop squinting at me. Her face is like a pendulum switching between cuteness and loathing, depending on whether Hopper is looking at her or not. And I’m sure she recognizes me or something equally ridiculous.

“Um, must be close to a year,” I announce, getting into the game.

“A year, yeah that’s about right.” Hopper flashes his demonic grin and tugs me in closer to his broad chest.

“Well you kept that very quiet,” Sophie says in her boarding school whine and looks me up and down, taking in everything.

I’m sure she’s priced my entire outfit in her head and I’m relieved I didn't try to pass off anything I own for this gig. Hopper was so right to send me out with his charge card. Under Sophie’s relentless scrutiny, I’d have had to slink out back to the other side of the tracks where I belong.

Hopper doesn’t seem to mind her eagle-eyed inspection. He even seems to be relishing the joke we’re playing. His smile is huge as we wander around the cocktail party, getting into full swing now that it’s noon. He hands me another glass of champagne and leans in to whisper in my ear.

“You’re the most gorgeous woman here, you know?” His breath tickles at the top of my lobe and makes me shiver.

I don’t really believe that, but I’m glad he says it. My nerves recede like a wave with his reassurance. All of a sudden it seems I really don’t want to let him down playing my part. And not only because of the huge stipend he’s paying me.

“I hope I’m up to this challenge,” I say. “It feels like everyone swivels their heads to stare as we walk past. It’s more unnerving than a haunted house.”

“They’re thinking the same as me – that you’re too beautiful to be real.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I laugh. “I’m a fake. The clothes are doing all the work, if I took them off I’d be a writhing hot mess.”

“Is that a promise?” he smirks. “because I’m up for testing that particular challenge any time.”

Before I get to reply, another willowy princess glides up to us. She opens her mouth to speak but before she does, Hopper, pretending he hadn’t noticed her, turns to me and plants a huge kiss on my mouth. The girl changes her mind and veers off toward the bar.

“What was that?” I hiss, smiling but letting him know he’s taking liberties. He’s blatantly ignoring the house rules and doing whatever he wants like always. Although my body is thumping, my lips trembling from the meeting with his firm ones.

“We have to make it look genuine. You said yourself they’re all examining us. You’re a unique species. They’ve never seen me with a date before.”

“Never?” I repeat, incredulously. I'm not sure whether to believe him. He says he runs in this circle so at at his age, how can he not once have been at an event with a girlfriend?

“Not even once,” he grins.

“So you’re a certified lone wolf?”

“It’s always been too much hassle to keep up the dating game.”

“So all this just to fend off some eager mothers.”

“You have no idea how eager,” he says. “The last one caught me in the washroom and threw herself at me. Begging me to take her daughter in marriage and her body in the john.”

“Oh my god,” I laugh.

For all his experience and power, Hopper has a hysterically funny sense of humor about his world. He’s also so easy to be with, I feel like we’ve known each other way longer than a week. And I keep forgetting he’s my boss and I’m the minion hired to do a job here.

“So do tell, ‘cause we’re all taking bets,” Sophie pops up at Hopper’s side and curls her fingers around his forearm, “Where did you two meet?”

“It was at the...” Hopper starts.

“No, I want to hear it from-” she interrupts him, “er, what was your name again?”

“Her name is Grace,” Hopper announces, harshly. I get the feeling he doesn’t have much time for feminine wiles. I don’t either.

“That’s it, Grace, of course,” Sophie says. “How did you meet my Darling Hopper?”

“It was in Chicago, while he was there on business,” I say, coming up with a place I know he frequents and where I’m praying Sophie is less likely to have any acquaintance.

“Oh, are you one of the Oak Park Harts?” she inquires.

Damn.

“Stop inquiring about my girlfriend’s pedigree,” Hopper rescues me smoothly. “You’ll have plenty of time to look her up in the social register.

He moves us on out of Sophie’s reach but I’m shaking. I feel exposed and shame washes up into my gut.

“What if she does?” I murmur through gritted but force-smiling teeth.

“She’d have to learn the alphabet first.” he says.

I can’t help but laugh. His hand on my hip is distracting and comforting at the same time. I try to put the terror of being uncovered out of my mind.