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“We should get back to the party,” I murmur, wishing I could take her to one of the bedrooms that are undoubtedly on this level and fuck her brains out.
Thelma sighs, her lips quirking as she places a splayed hand on my chest, pushing lightly. I step away from her as she straightens, grinning at me.
“To be continued.”
My mouth is dry as she sashays out of the room – no doubt to fix her makeup. Snatching up my whiskey, I head downstairs, ducking into the bathroom at the base of the stairs to make sure no bright pink lipstick is smeared across my face.
As I step back into the marquee pavilion, everyone is starting to take their seats. I leave my empty whiskey glass on a waiter’s tray, weaving through the tables to where I am seated near the front, sliding into my seat beside Holly Rampwood.
A white-jacketed waiter immediately places another tumbler of smooth, expensive whiskey in front of me. Pete Rampwood is a good friend to have. I wonder if he’s looking for a new gym.
Holly smiles at me, turning her attention to the emcee and laughing at the lame jokes. A spiel is given about the charity’s remit, and my ears perk up at the emcee’s next words.
“Please warmly welcome Thelma Rampwood, who will say a few words before the meal, and the auction kicks off tonight.”
There is polite applause, and Thelma – makeup immaculate once again – sweeps on stage, air-kissing the emcee before he steps back, his hands folded in front of him, holding his speech cards, as she steps up to the lecturn. She offers the room a bright smile, her eyes sweeping across the attendees.
“I first encountered the Foundation for Wrongful Convictions three years ago. They approached me as they were representing a former client of mine, hoping to overturn their wrongful murder conviction. Despite my best efforts, Arielle was convicted and sentenced to life in prison. The FWC was able to have her conviction overturned, and she has gone on to lead a fulfilling life, free from the injustice that had been heaped upon her.”
I sit straighter in my seat, my whiskey forgotten as I watch Thelma speak. She is passionate, speaking from the heart with such belief I’m almost ready to sign my life savings over to the FWC.
“The Rampwood Family Foundation is pleased to partner with the FWC here tonight, and I hope you all dig deep to raise some much-needed funds for them,” Thelma finishes, beaming at the audience, as she gestures to the auctioneer, who has taken a position beside the emcee on stage as she spoke.
Her speech is met with rousing applause, and she laughs and blushes, carefully making her way off the stage and to her table, taking her seat beside Pete, nodding at something he says into her ear.
THELMA
The buzz of conversation flows around me. I’m seated between my cousins, Pete and Parker, nodding to whatever they are discussing. I haven’t been paying attention. The night is going well. The auction has raised a lot of money for FWC, and I have felt Jimmy’s heated gaze on me the whole time.
God, he’s so sexy. I only regret that he couldn’t fuck me in Uncle Ken’s office. Unfortunately, my dress made it impractical. I would have worn something a little more…accessible if Holly had mentioned he was coming.
The crowd is starting to leave, having eaten, drank, spent money, and mingled. It would have been the height of rudeness to leave any earlier, but at least three tables are now empty. I’ve put in the time. I think I can take Jimmy home now. I need him between my legs. I have been on fire since he kissed me upstairs.
Kissing both Pete and Parker’s cheeks and blowing a kiss to Parker’s twin brother Lance across the table, I collect my purse, standing and catching Jimmy’s eye. He’s still seated at his table, watching me, while Holly and Artie are otherwise occupied.
Holding his gaze, I raise my eyebrows in a blatant invitation, tipping my head to the house. He nods, turning to speak to his table companions. Yes.
Turning, I catch Artie and Holly’s eyes, blowing them kisses and moving inside as Jimmy excuses himself from his fellow guests. He is waylaid by the woman who bought the Dynamo Fitness package, and I resign myself to a short wait inside.
Unfortunately, as I step into the house, it becomes obvious that my wait will not be solitary.
“Thelma.” Dad slides his arm around my waist, guiding me into the small sitting nook near the staircase. It will have to serve for privacy, I suppose.
“Dad.” I turn to him, squaring off as he offers me his best conciliatory smile.
“Come and join Rampwood & Stein, and you can spend half your time doing pro bono work.”
Really? That’s the best he is going to offer? I roll my eyes, planting my hands on my hips.
“I don’t have time to do all the work I need to donow, Dad. Cutting it in half won’t work for me.”
“At least say you’ll think about it,” he coaxes.
“No. Thank you, but no.”
I’m used to seeing the fleeting look of disappointment that crosses his face, but it doesn’t make it sting any less.
“You’re making a mistake about this, Thelma.”
