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“I’ll grab something at the party. I don’t mind gin-soaked food.”
Chapter 3
IT WASN’T JUST THE food that was gin soaked, but the people as well, every single attendee looked as if they’d had their bodyweight in gin or cocaine by the time they arrived. It reminded Noah of the many reasons he’d given up working with celebrities. Give him a staid politician any day of the week over this vapid, high-octane, self-destructive lifestyle.
There was also the paparazzi and the sheer crush of people; from the moment the car pulled up, Max was surrounded, the frenetic energy of people wanting to see her, to have their photograph taken with her, of women coming up and hugging her, men drawing her close. He had experience with this kind of work but he hated it – there was too much out of his control, too much that could go wrong. Trying to stay close to her required too much concentration and she seemed, at times, to be doing her level best to shrug free of him, so he wanted to grab her hand and remind her that she’d agreed to this, and he could leave again if she didn’t want to play by his rules.
But he already knew he wouldn’t.
He couldn’t.
She was in very real danger, and now that he’d met her, and seen her with Gray, he knew he’d do whatever he could to help her.
So he shadowed her, blending in, watching, scanning the crowd for anything that stood out, his expert gaze knowing what to look for when he couldn’t even put it into words. There were a thousand minuscule ways a person could communicate their ill-intent, and Noah had experience identifying all of them.
“Having fun?” Max asked, about an hour after arriving, sidling up way closer to him than he’d expected, her body too damned stunning to ignore completely, the low cut blazer showing just enough of her lace bra to make him want to see more, to see it all. He ground his teeth together, hating the involuntary direction of his thoughts, struggling to corral them back into order.
“A blast. Such an erudite group of friends you have.”
“Intellectual snobbery, Noah?” She asked, as though she couldn’t imagine such a thing from him. She’d only had two drinks since arriving, but coupled with the wine at home and the fact she’d barely eaten all day, and her frame being naturally slender, it had evidently gone halfway to her head already.
“Just an observation.”
“Baaaabe!” A woman with tizzy red hair and a barely-there sheathe dress threw her arms around Max, hugging her tight then kissing her on the lips. “I’ve missed you! Can we do dinner tomorrow?”
“Can’t, I’m in Paris,” Max responded, and even though she smiled at the other woman, Noah had the distinct impression Max was pushing her away a little.
“What for?”
“I’m doing a runway show. It’s a charity thing,” Max immediately added, as though to diminish her inclusion in a couture event.
“Lucky you. Do you get to keep the dress?”
“I don’t know. I think it gets auctioned actually.”
“Well, when you get back. Call me, okay?”
The red head staggered off, a wisp of a woman who should be dispensed in a cab and taken home to sleep it off.
“We should talk about Paris,” Noah said quietly, glad it was just the two of them again, even when surrounded by this throng of revelers. “Your assistant didn’t have an itinerary beyond flights and the fashion show.”
“That’s because I don’t have one. I’m just going to play it by ear.”
“I’d recommend keeping your outings to a minimum.”
“It’s Paris. Do you really think he’s going to follow me there?”
“Have you heard of the Eurostar?”
“Okay, but…”
“We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” he said, dropping his head and whispering in her ear. He might have done it because they were in the middle of the party and he wanted to respect her privacy, but if he were honest with himself, he’d admit that he simply wanted to be closer to her, to breathe her in, to test himself and his strength of will. “Circulate. Have fun. I’m watching.”
She was an expert at this. He stayed close enough to hear her and watch her, and he was in awe of her deft handling of myriad social faux pas and interrogations, her easy deflection of bitchy comments, her ability to have a conversation without being drawn into gossip or speculation. She had the ability to make everyone think she was their best friend but by the end of the night, Noah knew that wasn’t the case. Max hadn’t shown a single one of these people her true self. She’d been a construct, playing a part, and as soon as they slid into her car, her act fell, her long, blonde hair forming a curtain on either side of her face as she stared at her phone, scrolling through social media, responding to comments, her face pinched in a mask of determination.
He wondered if she was happy with this life? Then he wondered why he cared.
* * *
