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Garrett, being the airhead Ken Doll that he is, chuckles after the fact. It’s probably because it took that long for the dial-up internet that is his brain to realize what she was saying. He loops an arm around her mid-laugh. Cal just shoves his hands in his pockets silently as if he’s not amused. I’m not even sure why he’s here to be honest.

“This is a professional event,” I say, my eyes sliding down her outfit as well. It’s a short trip. Her sparkly red dress cuts off right below her ass. Seriously, there’s more material in her designer heels than that dress, if you can even call it that. “I’m dressed appropriately.”

“You look like you’re here to do an audit,” she sneers.

I look at my long black pencil skirt, modest button-down blouse, and reasonable black pumps. My hair is in my signature tight braid down my back. I’m put together and my shoes are comfortable and easy to walk in for hours.

“Isn’t there some skeezy reality show being filmed down the beach somewhere?” Dylan asks her. She’s got a little more snark than me, and she can’t stand my sister. She tends to come to my rescue from time to time. Not that I need rescuing. I’ve gotten pretty good at deflecting my sister’s jabs over the years, though they puncture a little deeper when there are a hundred important people watching and listening.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Reese asks.

Oh boy, here we go.

“I’m Dylan,” she says flatly. “I’ve been friends with Natalie for, oh, I don’t know, our whole lives.”

“Oh, that’s right, you’re the one with the boy name. Yeah…” she says flippantly. Despite being almost thirty years old, Reese has never actually matured.

“I’m here to work,” I say in an attempt to crank the conversational wheel in literally any other direction. Dylan nods.

“Unlike you, Natalie works for Mission Events. She doesn’t just mooch off the family money,” Dylan says. Immediately, Reese’s glare intensifies by about a thousand watts.

“At least I have something going for me,” she says. “Knat here might like to pretend she’s important, but really, she’s just trying to keep up. She’s the black sheep of the family, and she always has been.”

“Is that why Dad wants me to work for the company?” I ask.

“He wants you to work for the company because if he hides you in some unimportant corner in an office, you will be out of the spotlight with busy work. He won’t have to worry about you embarrassing him more than you already do,” she says, and although I know her words aren’t true, they still sting and I back down a little. My sister knows me very well, sees that and smiles. “That’s what I thought.”

“You know what we need?” Dylan asks, tugging on my arm. Though honestly, I am having a hard time moving right now. Because people are staring. Important people. The president of Lawson Resorts, CEO of the Bellagio and the MGM Grand. I’m pretty sure I see Deborah Wakefield, one of the designing architects I met in Paris. All of them just heard what Reese said. All of them are watching. Whispering. Judging.

“I’ll go get us some champagne,” Dylan says, pushing past my sister and her goons. I turn my attention elsewhere. Anywhere else, really, but when I turn to walk away, the heel of my shoe, a shoe I thought I could trust, catches on the asphalt, and I nearly trip. Luckily, I don’t, but I do drop all my things in the process.

“Oh my God!” Reese cackles, and Garrett snorts. I know what you must be thinking. These people sound more like high schoolers than adults. But that’s the thing about people like my sister. People who have grown up with money they didn’t earn tend to be immature and entitled.

I do not care what Reese or Garrett think, it’s still mortifying. It’s still a very me thing to do in a situation like this. Welcome to the life of Natalie Blythe.

“Here,” Cal-I think that’s his name-walks over and bends down to help me. “Let me give you a hand.”

Despite his chivalrous action, it feels a little too late considering everything that has just happened.

“It’s alright, I got it,” I tell him.

“No, I insist,” he says with a smile. He is all brawn and no brains like Garrett, but it’s the first time I notice he is actually not that bad looking. He is a blonde-haired, cleft-chinned, muscle man with no personality, but at least he is being nice to me.

We stand up in unison, and he helps me tuck my things back into my bag. The next thing I know, he’s brushing a wisp of my hair away from my forehead. It probably escaped my braid in all the commotion.

“It’s too bad your friend is getting you a drink,” he says.

“Yeah? Why?” I ask skeptically.

“Because I was going to ask if you wanted to grab one.”

I am…lost. This is my sister’s boyfriend’s friend, and I am…me. I’ve met him all of three times, and he’s never even noticed I was in the room before. So why now? I might be overly suspicious of a man showing interest in me, but I have reason to be.

“Oh,” I say. And that’s it. Just oh.

“Do you wanna ride the Ferris wheel with me?” he asks, and I blink.

“The Ferris wheel?” I ask.