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Teenage boys were so foolish.

“Certainly seemed like he liked them,” I muttered to Ivy now.

She snorted. “He didn’t. Trust me. They fit a model he was told to want. That’s all.”

I fiddled with the objects on her vanity, deliberating with my own finicky heart whether that could be true. “Why are you telling me this now?”

Her attention remained fixed on her hands in my hair. “Cam is my best friend, and I love you, dear girl, but you’re both idiots. Ten years of pining and nothing to show for it. You’re both emotionally impaired and you need help. My love life is a mess, but at least I can fix yours.”

I wanted to ask what she meant about her love life, but more than that, I needed to point out the major flaw in her plan. “You’d be wasting your time. He’s above my pay grade.”

It was true, I knew, but I said it hoping she’d disagree. Deep down, I wanted someone from his world to give me permission, to tell me I was good enough. I wanted to be worthy of him.

In true Ivy fashion, she merely rolled her eyes. “Now, that’s just dumb.”

My shoulders sank. She’d never understand. Ivy had never sat in a borrowed designer gown, planning to attend a charity gala in which her seat was paid for by someone else. She’d never gone hungry or slept in the cold.

She didn’t have men threatening her to stay away from their sons.

“It doesn’t feel dumb from where I’m sitting,” I muttered.

“Cam’s not a little boy under his daddy’s thumb anymore. He’s a grown man who knows what he wants.”

I laughed, but it came out a tad bitter. “How do you know what he wants?”

Her cool green gaze rose and met mine in the mirror. “He let you drive his Lambo,” she repeated. “The boy lets no one drive his Lambo.”

Thirty-Six

A deep blue luxury SUV pulled up to Ivy’s house at 6:00. Towering in her too-large crystal shoes, I followed her out of the house. Cam exited the vehicle from the passenger side in the most debonair tuxedo I’d ever seen. His shiny lapels framed a crisp white shirt and a black bow tie. My steps faltered when I met his eyes. He stared at me, looking as stunned as I felt.

I was in so much trouble.

The car was Bennett’s, I learned, as the man smiled at me from the driver’s seat, leaning toward the open passenger door. His tuxedo was a little flashier than Cam’s, but it suited him, and he’d tamed his black curls into something more sophisticated than his usual I-just-rose-from-a-busy-night-in-bed look.

“You are ravishing this evening, sweetheart,” he said to me, then raised an eyebrow at Ivy, who was aggressively resplendent in her gold gown. “Poison, you’re so…brassy.”

She rolled her eyes and examined her nails. “You couldn’t find something else to do on a Saturday night?”

“And miss this?” he mocked.

They continued to heckle each other, but Cam bent closer to me. “You are gorgeous,” he whispered near my ear.

“Oh, you mean this old thing?” I said, going for light.

His fingers grazed down my arm, leaving a trail of sparkles in their wake. “I hope you’re okay riding with Bennett and Ivy? Seemed silly to take two cars.”

“Of course.”

He placed a quick kiss on my cheek. “Shall we?” He opened the back passenger door and helped me in, then did the same for Ivy since Bennett wasn’t budging from his seat.

The ride was filled mostly with Cam and Bennett’s chatter. My fingers fiddled with the slinky material of my dress as I fought a fit of nerves. I’d been to cotillion. I knew how to work a place setting—mostly. I wouldn’t be the only person in there without a trust fund.

Still, a little voice was whispering into my subconscious…

You’re not good enough.

“How much were the tables for this thing again?” Bennett asked.