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What the hell was going on?
* * * *
She had imagined the gala would be something like the Hollywood movies—beautiful people with million-dollar looks sipping vintage champagne and kissing ass or complaining to each other about their perfect lives. The reality wasn’t far from it. Five minutes into the party and she felt like an outcast. She kept her mouth shut so people wouldn’t find out she didn’t belong in their class. Adam might have dressed her prettily but she was as clueless as a peasant in a royal palace.
Thankfully, she, Adam, and David had arrived fashionably late. Adam was making his social rounds with a bunch of old ladies in heavy makeup and heavier jewellery as they were seated at their table. David sat next to her.
He leaned closer and asked, “How do you like the party so far?”
>
She gave a diplomatic answer. “I’m enjoying it.”
The corner of David’s lips curved upward. “Don’t worry, I hate it too. I wish I could avoid it, but attending events such as this one becomes a necessity to maintain social networks.”
Her thoughts drifted to her co-workers in the factory and their backyard parties. Compared to these people, the world she came from seemed so simple and unpretentious.
David nodded in Adam’s direction. Adam was in a deep conversation with a blonde woman wrapped in a blue satin gown that seemed offensively garish when worn by a woman her age. Her arms were droopy. Her skin was white and pasty, rivalling the neighbourhood Goth kids Sam knew back home.
“That’s Lily Huntington. She’s a famous Aspen busybody, or rather infamous busybody, depending on how you see it. Lily has been trying to match Adam with one of her friend’s daughters and she’s been quite a bug on Adam’s ass for the past few years.”
Sam snorted. Why was he telling her this?
A waiter came by and filled their glasses with water.
“Thank you.” David cast her a conspiratorial grin. “Adam usually prefers not to attend Lily’s parties. This time he wanted Lily to stop being a matchmaker.”
She still didn’t get why David was telling her this.
David studied her face. “Dear Christ. You’re really that innocent, aren’t you?”
“Oh.” It suddenly hit her. She blushed. “That’s so silly. What will Mr Houser use as an excuse when my contract is up?”
The look on David’s face changed, turning serious. “What do you think of a permanent position? We’d be prepared to offer you a lot of perks.”
She rounded her eyes. He must be joking.
Someone came to their table and their conversation cut off. It was another tall hunk with dark hair and gold-coloured eyes. He didn’t wear a tuxedo and black tie like Adam and David. The man was swathed in a black sports jacket and jeans. His white shirt wasn’t tucked in and a couple of upper buttons were open as if he wanted to give a big middle finger to the dress code of the gala.
Bad boy. Sam kind of liked the bad-boy type.
He leisurely pulled out a chair next to hers and snagged her hand. He lifted it and brought it to his lips.
“Samantha.” As a bad boy, he kissed her hand like a true gentleman, suprisingly.
A shiver of thrills curled at the base of her skull.
“This is Calvin Neutzel. You’ve finally met him,” David introduced. “Calvin, this is Sam. Be good to her.”
Calvin shot David a disapproving look. “Don’t give the impression I’d like to break things. Or rough stuff up. In fact, I’m very gentle.”
David snorted. “Sure.”
Calvin raked his gaze over her appreciatively. “You look absolutely lovely, Samantha.” He leaned towards her and whispered, “Do you know that tonight should be my turn spending the night with you?”
“Oh.” Heat crept into her cheeks. “I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah. With a lovely lady in the house, I can see why Adam couldn’t wait to dip his wick.”
