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“But you just got a dark roast. Aren’t those bitter? How can you like bitter and sweettogether?”

He shook his head. “The dark roasts are dry and lighter roasts have more caffeine. If I drink that right now, I’ll be up all night.” He grinned. “As for bitterness and sweetness, well, I say they are the perfect combination. They complement each other, balance each otherout.”

His mention of staying up late reminded me of my mom. I usually had to leave her home alone when I was working and going to school, but now that I was out with Marv and, for the most part, just hanging out with the guys, I felt guilty. My eyes slid to the tabletop and I fidgeted with theedge.

“What’swrong?”

I shook my head, and pressed my hands together, clasping and unclasping them on the wood. “Nothing, just nervous about tonight, Iguess.”

“There’s nothing to be worried about.” Marv reached across the table to still my hands. “We’re just two people going to a party. Sure, it’s a fancy-shmancy party and those aren’t nearly as fun as regular parties, but this one isspecial.”

“Because we’re trying to find out who’s stealing people’s stuff?” Iasked.

“Nope.” Marv grinned down at me. “Because it’s a date withyou.”

My mouth dropped open. Did he think this was a real date? Before I could ask, the barista called our names, and presented our drinks at the counter. Marv stood to retrieve them. No, he couldn’t mean that this was a date-date. He was a nice guy, he was sweet to me. Protective. From what I knew of him so far though, that was just his personality. The guys had said something about him having a little sister. A lot of big brothers were very protective.Not Michael, a piece of me jabbed. I dug my nails into my palm and smiled brightly when Marv returned, taking my cup and chugging half its contents before I felt comfortable enough to look at himagain.

Marv took his time drinking his coffee, and I plucked at the small cookie he bought me, trying to buy time until we had to be at the hotel. When it was five minutes after ten – Marv assured me that arriving early to such a function wasn’t the norm – we picked up our mess and deposited it in the trash on our wayout.

The BMW sped through the streets of downtown until we arrived at the front doors of the DeLuca Charleston Hotel. A valet, dressed in a red vest with a gold embellished “DeLuca” on the left side of his chest, hurried up to the meet us. He opened my door first and reached in to help me out as Marv came around the front of the car straightening his suitjacket.

He tossed the keys at the valet, who fumbled before catching them. “Don’t have too much fun.” He laughed, taking myhand.

Inside the double entry paneled doorway that led into the lobby, bright glittering chandeliers hung from the arched ceiling. Red chairs were aesthetic accents to the hotel’s color scheme and intentionally placed for guests to rest at will. Columns sprouted from the glassy floor to the ceiling, making me feel like we were entering a throne room. A smiling, elderly woman dressed in a deep burgundy pant suit, matching the chairs and the valet’s vest, greeted us and gave us directions to the ballroom. I practically leeched myself to Marv’s arm as he smiled at the woman and thanked her before leading me down the long hallway. At least it was much easier to walkindoors.

“You okay?” Marv’s quiet question was accompanied by a squeeze of my hand. Inodded.

Another set of double doors opened into a grand ballroom alive with people in similar dress: men in suits, and women in cocktail dresses of various colors. I relaxed a bit when I spotted kids here and there, running across the room from one parent to another, or towards a long, elegantly draped table stacked with snacks and a tower of champagne beverages. Waiters milled around with round trays in their hands, offering more drinks or caviar, watching and waiting to beneeded.

“Marvin!” A booming voice startled me. An oversized man in a straining black suit, with an equally straining plaid bowtie, waddled across the ballroom floor past several couples dancing to a quartet in the corner. “Good to see you, myboy!”

“Good evening, Mr. Daschund,” Marv said. I couldn’t restrain my reaction, and my eyes bulged from their sockets. Daschund? I thought. Like thedog?

“Will you be going to our retreat with your lady friend here?” Mr. Daschund smiled brightly up at me. I wasn’t tall, but he was much shorter than the average man. Marv’s hand came around my waist, pulling me into his side. My hand fell across his chest to stayupright.

“This is my girlfriend, Harley.” Marv’s eyes flashed as he turned his head towards me. The lie slipped from his lips easily, and I understood. If anyone knew who I really was, they might assume I was one of those women that hung on the arm of the rich for handouts. I gave him a slight nod before turning to Mr.Daschund.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Daschund.” I held out my hand and the man took it, kissing the back in a surprisingly grand gesture. I didn’t know men did that anymore. I had just expected him to shakeit.

“Lovely to make your acquaintance, and please, call me Stephen.” He turned back to Marv. “Will you be stepping in for your parentsthen?”

“Yes.” Marv’s jaw tightened as he glanced over Mr. Daschund’s head, but as I peered over in the same direction, his hip butted me, and he frowned before continuing to speak. “They send their regards. Unfortunately, they are both quite busy this time ofyear.”

Mr. Daschund nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, yes. I quite understand. Well, we’re happy to have you here. Why don’t you and your young lady have adance?”

“I think that’s a splendid idea, Mr. Daschund,” Marv said. “If you’ll excuseus.”

As we walked, Marv leaned down to my ear. “You’re doinggood.”

“You could have told me about the name change in advance,” I whisperedback.

“You need to know how to handle unexpected changes under pressure,” he replied. “I kept it somewhatclose.”

Suddenly, his head jerked up and his eyes narrowed. I didn’t have a moment to look towards where he was staring because with my hand in his, Marv marched to the middle of the dance floor and spun me on my heels to face him. He clasped my palm and his other hand moved to the small of my back. I didn’t know how to dance; my eyes lingered on the tips of my high-heels, making sure that I didn’t step on his toes as he hauled me around the dance floor with the other couples. Every once in a while I peeked up at him, and his jaw remained hardened as if he wereangry.

“What’s wrong?” Iasked.

“Your friend is here.” The bite in his tone confused me. I twisted my head. “Don’t look,” he hissed. “Don’t make itobvious.”

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