Page 38 of Nothing to Tell

“No!Your secrets are safe with me,” Roxie insisted.Harper glanced back at Zairn capping the cocktail shaker.“Don’t worry about him.He knows better than to repeat anything he hears in our bed.”And that was… they weren’t in bed.“You can trust us.”

Maybe she could, maybe she shouldn’t.Though letting out some of the insanity rather than caging it all might help guard against screwing this up.

“It was my sister’s engagement party…”

For the next hour or so, she told the story of just how she and Bastian ended up in the mess.She talked about Damon and Charissa, the mugging, her wish to extricate herself without hurting good people.

“Bastian was doing me a favor and now… I don’t want his mom to be upset when she finds out it’s not what she thinks it is.”

“Yeah, ‘cause she thinks you’re fuck buddies.”

“Strong foundation for any marriage,” Zairn said, still on his phone as he had been for most of the trip, in between mixing them cocktails.

“They’re not getting married,” Roxie said.“You have marriage on the brain.”

Zairn explained.“If Carolyn’s trying to maneuver them together, she sees a future.”

Could Carolyn see a future for her and Bastian’s relationship?That made things all the more dicey.

“He was doing me a favor…”

“Which is why you’re doing the same for him tonight.”Roxie had her hand again.“Don’t worry about it.We’re with you, we’ll look after you.”

That wouldn’t do anything for letting Carolyn down gently.

“I’ll talk to him tonight.”If she could.“He knows his mother, he probably already has an exit strategy.”

Though it wasn’t completely clear if Bastian knew she’d been invited to this event.They slowed to turn onto a driveway.As the house was revealed, she regretted her decision to be there.

The black night around the large white building was lit with exquisite twinkling lights.In a line of other vehicles, they waited their turn behind limos and sports cars being attended to by valets.

Dread crept in, cooling and marring her skin with goosebumps.

Parties were a part of her work life.Other parties, not parties like this.And as much as her father liked to make out he was rich, which he was compared to many people, this wasn’t their league.Not even close.

This was the league of the super-rich.The one percent.Women dripped with precious jewels and every suit was hand-tailored to perfection.

Thank God she’d settled on her long, silk dress; her alternate option had been a short, red, halter-neck.Far from appropriate.

If she got out of this car she’d be stranded, without an avenue of escape.Except there was no going back.This wasn’t her car.She couldn’t order it to turn around and take her home.

At the head of the queue, Zairn got out first.Roxie stayed right behind her as she inhaled and stepped out.

It was her imagination.It was.It was her imagination that everyone turned to look at the stranger getting out of a car, and with Zairn Lomond too.She’d gone there to make Bastian feel better and so far only managed to make herself feel worse.

This wasn’t about her.

Her chin rose.She wasn’t there for herself, or to make herself feel good, she was there for Bastian.These people could think anything they wanted about her; she would never see any of them again.

Bastian had risked humiliation coming to her aid once, twice actually.Now it was her turn.

Roxie took Zairn’s arm and he offered her the other.Friendship.Comrades.Telling them the whole truth could be something she came to regret.But right then, walking into that intimidating space, she was grateful not to be alone.

No one even asked for her invitation.Maybe it was gauche to worry about paper and bureaucracy, though there was a man at a podium by the door.More likely it was her companions who paid the price of her entry.Would anyone get in the way of Zairn and Roxie?

Grand double doors framed the gleaming marble floor and balustrade beyond.The domed ceiling had to be fifty feet above the floor they gazed down upon from a circular mezzanine around the upper perimeter.A double staircase led down to the shimmering main floor, as bright as the breeding that coasted around on castors.With her skirt in one hand and her clutch around her wrist, she descended to join them.An interloper.A phony.An intruder.

Bastian better be pleased to see her… if she ever came across him.