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“Wow. First I get a sorry, and now I have a point? Did I wake up this morning? Am I still dreaming?” He tosses the invitation my way. “For fuck’s sake, call up and say the invite fell behind a drawer or something and you just found out. Let them know you’ll be there.”
I can’t believe I’m about to do this, but he might know something I don’t. “What about her, though? I can’t send her out to the salon to get fixed up. I don’t trust her.”
“Didn’t Mom and Sera have people come in to do that for them? Come on, man. Didn’t you pay attention to anything back then?” Rather than wait for me to answer, he adds, “The number’s bound to be around here somewhere. Maybe Jock knows where to find it.” He whistles softly as he strolls out of the room, and I watch in open mouthed wonder.
I’ve been wrong about him. This doesn’t do anything to erase his stupidity and recklessness—only time will do that, and even then I doubt anything would be erased. Softened, maybe.
But he’s managed to prove his worth without hardly trying. The bastard. Everything always seemed to come easy to him. He’s hardly ever had to try. Charm, good looks, a sense of humor. That’s all he’s ever needed.
Nobody wants to admit their little brother is better at anything than they are. At least, I don’t.
Who’s standing guard outside the study today? I get up and go to the door to find Rob leaning against the wall. He stands up straight once he notices me. “Bring her to me.” There’s no need to specify who I mean. While I wait, I look through the list of contacts left behind in my father’s leather planner. He never did adopt technology easily. He didn’t even like storing numbers in his cell.
It’s only a few minutes before there’s a soft knock at the door. Incredible how she seems to have changed. No storming around, no hunger strikes. All it took was a couple of good, hard fucks to make her fall in line.
As for me? For some reason, the sight of her makes something tighten deep in my chest. At the same time, it’s easier to breathe. The air feels cleaner, lighter. She smiles—a shy little smile that she quickly hides—and I have to remind myself she’s a professional. Skilled at making a man feel special.
It’s better than a bucket of ice water over my head.
“What do you need?” she asks in a soft voice before glancing over her shoulder. She lifts an eyebrow on turning my way again.
And damned if my cock doesn’t jump. “Not that,” I tell her, though now she’s got me thinking about it quite seriously. “We’re going to a party this weekend.”
Both eyebrows shoot up this time. “We are?”
“Don’t get too excited. This isn’t for fun, and forget even imagining you’ll be alone long enough to make an escape.” She flinches enough that I know her thoughts had, indeed, already rocketed in that direction. “It’s not as if I don’t have your address, either.”
“Of course,” she murmurs.
“It’s a big party at a family friend’s home. His daughter’s engagement.” I hand over the invite so she can take a look. “You’ll be my date for the evening. No need to explain our arrangement. I doubt there’ll be many personal questions asked.”
“Okay.” The invitation trembles a little in her hand.
“I expect you to be on good behavior. And I imagine you know how to present yourself at a function like this.”
“You mean a mob function?” Her eyes meet mine before darting away.
“I mean a high-end function. Very expensive, lavish. Paul Giordano will want to impress everybody in the tri-state area with this party.”
“I think I can manage not to embarrass you.” The firm, disapproving set of her full mouth tells me everything she’s thinking.
“Good. I’ll bring someone in for your hair and all that. I’m sure there’s something in the closet you could wear.”
“Who do those dresses belong to?”
“They fell off the back of a truck.” She rewards me by bursting out laughing, which I can’t help but join in even if it’s at my family’s expense. “Dad would give them to Sera. She was never interested in wearing so-called stolen clothes. She’d store them in the guest suite closet after pretending to be thrilled to get them.”
“I think I would’ve liked her.”
“I know you would have.”
She leaves the invitation on the desk, then backs away. “I guess I’d better find something nice to wear. We have to make sure everybody gets a good impression of you.”
“What makes you say that?” I ask as she walks away.
“Isn’t that what this is really all about?” She flashes a coy little grin over her shoulder before disappearing around the corner. Something tells me I’ll be remembering that grin all day.
Chapter Eighteen - Delilah
