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Wonderful. That was just the image she wanted to project. “I’m fine.”
“He said the same thing. He’s a worse liar than you.”
Something sharp twisted in her already achy chest. “I think he’s a pretty good liar, all things considered.” She bore down hard on the urge to cry. Just sit there and bawl while the romantic swing music swelled and couples swirled in pastel blurs around them. “I don’t need his damn money. I don’t need him to bail me out. I paid off my own bills.”
Cory rested his leg on his opposite knee, apparently not concerned about his steel-gray tux. The guy might’ve stepped off a page in GQ, he was that handsome. In fact, she might’ve called him the most gorgeous man in the room, if not for
the blond, eye-maskless pirate scowling at the head table. He would win that contest, effortlessly.
In jeans and a T-shirt. In a flawless tux. Or better yet, completely naked.
“You could choose to look at it as a hand, not a handout.”
“I can take care of myself,” she said, knowing she sounded defensive and stubborn and not giving a hoot. She was entitled.
“Undoubtedly. But I’ve heard—and this is just a rumor—that life is better when you have someone who wants to take care of you, and vice versa. Someone to spoon with on cold mornings, and bring you soup. Or let out the dog, should you have one.”
“I don’t have a dog.”
“Me either. My parents have a horse, though.” Cory seemed to ponder that before shaking his head. “Then there are all those other couples things. Sending cards on important dates. The occasional love note tucked under a pillow. Joint checking accounts.”
She barked out a laugh. “Joint checking accounts? That’s one of the highlights of romance to you?”
His grin overtook his face and silvered his charcoal eyes. “Trust me, sharing an account with me would be more excitement than most women could take.”
“You’re a complete ass.”
“I am.” He leaned toward her, his expression suddenly grave. “But he’s not. He’s actually a decent guy. Part of why women are constantly flinging their undergarments in his direction, despite his assertions that they only care about his wallet. He’s the kind of man women can sniff from miles away.”
She’d already seen several of those types skulking around him tonight. Not that she blamed them. But still. “I’m assuming you’re referring to the stink from his lies.”
“I guarantee he hated himself for lying to you.” At her huff of breath, Cory zoomed in for the kill. “He’s faithful and genuine and loyal. Above all that, no matter what you think, he’s honest. He didn’t lie to hurt you. I promise you that. Dill’s not built that way. Me, on the other hand, I’m apt to do any damn thing. For any damn reason.”
Shocker. “I thought I knew him. At least part of him. But I don’t. He’s a complete mystery.”
“Because you didn’t know I was his brother? Until recently, he hasn’t acted as if I am for years.”
She didn’t know what to say to that. Worse, she wasn’t sure if she hurt more for herself or for Dillon at that moment, if Cory was telling the truth. “You can tell him I don’t need his money. I want that credit on my account returned.”
“How about mine?”
Alexa glared at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“He didn’t pay your bill. He doesn’t even know it has been paid.”
“Then who—” She broke off when Cory shot to his feet, as quick as a rattlesnake. “Oh, hell no.”
“We’ve had an excellent quarter.” He dipped his hands into his pockets, a mercurial smile flitting over his face. “It was either pay off your back bill or expand the store’s gardening section. Your choice.”
Before she could rail at him, he strolled away. Whistling.
The bastard. That family seemed to make them in pairs.
To avoid further bloodshed, she remained seated through the dancing portion of the gala. Luckily one of the wives returned sans husband to keep her company. They people-watched for over an hour. The nicest part was that Ruth never asked her if she was dating anyone. It helped her pretend she was single and unencumbered.
The single bit was true at least.
Eventually the auction got under way. She watched as a parade of high-end electronics and vacation packages to various tropical islands got offered up for bid. Everything went for staggeringly high amounts. Then the last item was put up, a simple watercolor painting of a purple rose, its petals so velvety and lush she would’ve sworn the flower was real. The simple wooden frame surrounded what looked like a burlap canvas.
