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Luckily, I’m saved from further embarrassment as my Uber arrives. I raise my hand in a lame wave. “This is me. Thanks for helping me out.”
Harrison tips his chin at me. “Any time, Jess.”
He’s got me so flustered I almost trip over fresh air on my way to the Uber, and Harrison’s throaty chuckle stays with me long after my driver has dropped me at my hotel.
Chapter Three
Jessica
“Guys, we need to get going,” I call to Mack and Harmony through their hotel room door.
They’ve been at it like bunnies from the moment they met, although I guess theyarestill newlyweds, having tied the knot three months ago. If I were to look uplove at first sightin the dictionary, I swear it would say,Mack and Harmony.
After a stint in a boy band and then as a solo artist, Mack has found more than a singing partner in Harmony. They knew they were soulmates the moment they met and were quickly making much more than sweet music together.Notthat I want to think about my brother that way, but on occasions like this, when I have to drag them from their hotel room, their inability to keep their hands off each other is hard to ignore.
“Mack!” I call again, banging a fist against the door.
“Jeez, keep your hair on, Sis,” Mack says as he throws open the door.
Mack is dressed more formally than usual because tonight’s gig is different. Harmony Mack is more accustomed to performing in packed-out stadiums since their first album went platinum. Mack looks handsome in his pressed black pants and waistcoat with a lavender long-sleeved shirt underneath.
Harmony follows Mack out of their room, looking beautiful in a matching lavender dress that clings to her curves and complements her ebony hair.
“You look stunning,” I say, linking my arm through hers as we head toward the lift.
“Looking pretty hot yourself.” She grins, indicating my royal-blue dress with its modest neckline and low back.
“Thanks. I just hope I don’t break my neck in these,” I reply, nodding at my strappy sandals with their three-inch heels.
Harmony laughs. “I hear you. We’ll just have to hang onto each other all night.”
“Feeling okay?” I ask, ever conscious of Harmony’s anxiety. She’s come a long way in the last six months, but I know she still struggles with her nerves. Fortunately, Mack is her safety blanket and calms her in ways nothing or no one else can.
“I’m looking forward to it,” she reassures me with a smile. “It’s only a handful of songs, and then we can relax and enjoy the rest of the evening. Plus, it’ll be good to catch up with Elli. Things have been hectic, and I haven’t seen her for a few weeks.”
We head outside, where Max, our driver, is waiting in the limo. The Queens Club isn’t far away, and we make it with time to spare before the guests begin to arrive. The function room we’ve hired is already set up, with a stage at the back and a bar. The auction prizes are spread out on a table along the side wall so guests can take a look and decide which they’d like to bid on.
The room slowly begins to fill with the guests we’ve invited tonight. People from all walks of life, including successful business people, athletes, and several veterans from the charity we’re supporting. Mack and Harmony greet the guests while I guide people to their tables. The journalist from NYC Weekly arrives, a redhead with a drop-dead figure and a personality to match, her brittle smile not quite reaching her eyes as she snaps pictures of Mack and Harmony and the arriving guests. I answer a few questions and show her the prizes up for auction, glad she doesn’t ask me too many in-depth questions about the companies and establishments donating them.
Harmony gives a little squeal as Elli arrives with Noah, and the two women embrace like they haven’t seen each other for two years rather than two weeks. My stomach gives a little flip as I look past them for Harrison, but he’s nowhere in sight. Maybe he changed his mind about coming tonight. I did spring it on him, after all.
I leave the journalist to do her thing and head to the bar to grab a lime and soda. Sitting on one of the bar stools, I try to smother the disappointment fluttering in my chest. It’s silly to think Harrison was as taken with me as I was with him. We spent less than an hour in each other’s company.
Harmony and Mack take to the stage to sing their first number,Visions of You,and before long, I’m lost in their beautiful voices, which meld seamlessly. A few couples take to the small dancefloor while others tap their feet and sing along at their tables.
I gasp, almost tumbling off the stool as someone jostles me from behind. I let out an embarrassing squeak as an icy chill seeps over my shoulder and down the front of my dress. Turning on my stool, I glower at the man who’s just spilled his drink all over me.
The old “spill and greet”is the douchebag way to get an introduction. I’ve witnessed it used on unsuspecting women too often not to recognize it.
He looks about my age, and there’s a gleam in his eye as he smirks at me.I stand and glare at him, realizing he hasn’t even apologized for spilling his drink on me. His grin falters when he sees I’m at least two inches taller than him. Nevertheless, he pushes forward with his advances.
“Should I join you?” he asks, gesturing to the empty stool beside mine.
“Absolutely not,” I snap, grabbing some napkins and blotting at my dress. Whatever he’s drinking has left a dirty brown stain on the blue fabric, which smells gross.
The guy, who’s now introduced himself as Timothy, isn’t moving along. Anger rises, and my head throbs with the threat of a headache.
“Here, let me,” he says, plucking the napkin from my hand and blotting the stain above my breast.
