Julian laughs. “Sorry, kiddo,” he says to me.
I glance at Rafe to see how the wordkiddostruck him, but then it’s no better thanpoor girl. He’s not looking at me, but his avoidance feels forced, as if he doesn’t want his friends to think we have any sort of relationship beyond a professional one.
Henry bows his head at me. “My apologies.”
“Now,” Julian says, looking back at Rafe and using a tone that tells me he’s about to change the subject. “I know it’s unorthodox, but I invited Melanie Castow along tonight.” Rafe opens his mouth to speak, but Julian continues, “Honestly, we know you’ve been resisting it, but Henry and I think it would be a good idea for you to get to know her outside of the bedroom.” Rafe’s eyes widen, Lizzie squeaks, and Julian coughs affectedly before he continues. “Boardroom. Apologies. Freudian slip there.”
“I’ll say,” mutters Henry, sounding amused.
Julian glances at him. “We think she might take your mind off”—his eyebrows bounce, and a teasing smile rips his mouth open—“other things.”
Lizzie frowns at me, the two of us lost in this conversation. She turns her focus on her dad. “You should do it. It’s been so long since you’ve taken anyone out.”
“Your dad’s been pining,” Henry says. “Didn’t you know? Met a woman he fell hook, line and sinker for, but she never called him back.”
I freeze, panic swirling through me. I’d often wondered if he was dating anyone, but he never mentioned it, and it didn’t feel like a topic I could safely raise. Against my will, my eyes find his across the room, only to find he’s staring back.
He jerks his gaze away, leaving a warmth infusing my limbs, reaching to my ears and making them burn.
Lizzie’s mouth drops open. “What? Who?”
“A mystery woman,” Julian says with theatrical flair, raising both arms like he’s a circus master announcing the next act. His thick, dark mop of hair flops with the motion. “He gave her his number, and she never used it.”
“Ignore him,” Rafe grumbles. “He’s talking shit.”
Henry leans towards Lizzie, speaking as though he’s telling an exciting story to a young child. “No one knows who she is. Not even your dad.”
Pins and needles spark through my body. How many unidentifiable women has Rafe given his number to? Surely it can’t be many. It might not even be more than one.
My pulse quickens, but I stand very still in case the smallest movement might expose my train of thought.
“It’s hopeless,” Julian agrees. “So, I’ve taken it upon myself to provide an alternative. One that won’t tinker with your father’s mental health.” Rafe makes a tutting sound of disapproval, but Julian only smirks. “She’s coming with us to your farewell party tonight.”
The mention of Lizzie’s farewell party causes a shot of adrenaline to burst through me. I’ve been trying not to think about the party and Lizzie’s imminent departure, because when Lizzie leaves, I have to leave too. I’ll have to leave Rafe without ever telling him who I am. Maybe I’m not the mystery womanhe’s been ‘pining’ for. Maybe he gave his number to someone else who never called him back. But really, who isn’t calling Rafe Bastion back? What kind of idiot wouldn’t callthatnumber? Me. I’m the idiot. But if there’s the tiniest chance itisme, then he’ll never know that the woman he’s been looking for has been right under his nose the whole time.
“Anyway,” Julian says, his arm around Lizzie’s shoulders. “You’ll meet her tonight.”
Rafe begins, “I don’t think—”
“It might help the deal,” Henry interrupts. “So be nice to her.”
I have no idea what deal they’re talking about, but Rafe glares at his friends, offering them the slightest jerk of his chin that looks a lot like a wordlessfuck you.
Henry, not in the least disturbed by the vicious glance, snakes an arm around Lizzie’s shoulders from the other side so that, pinned between her godfathers, it looks like they’re about to run a four-legged race.
Henry glances at Rafe. “We’re stealing your daughter for a pre-party celebration, then we’re going to the venue to make sure everything’s set up. I take it you can survive without her?”
“I can.”
“Good,” Henry says, before pointing at me and then Rafe. “And you two can come together?”
The lines around Rafe’s eyes deepen, and he’s quiet for so long that Lizzie throws a questioning look at me. I wish I had an explanation, but I don’t. Maybe the way his friends were teasing him messed with his head. But if there was nothing to it, why would it bother him?
“I can make my own way,” I say to break the tension. “I’ll call a—”
“It’s fine,” Rafe interrupts. “Be ready at seven, and we’ll take the car.”
I glance at the clock—6.50 pm—and I cannot get the stupid zip up on my dress. It’s caught in the silk, and the way it’s caught, the waist is too narrow for me to slide the dress back off and start again.
