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“I don’t care,” Picking up a plate, she filled it with canapes, lobster tails and buttered shrimp. Putting that one down, she grabbed another and started on the fruit.
“Are you sure you don’t need a carryout bag?”
“What?”
He raised an eyebrow at the two laden plates. “He lied to me.”
“I’m assuming we’re talking about Mr. Maxwell Callister.”
“He said he was taking Myra, ‘just a friend’ and here he is with that – that bitch.” She glared as he snickered behind his hand.
“What’s so funny?”
“I think you’ve been hanging out with the guy too long. Darling, you’re cussing.”
Picking up a plump strawberry into her mouth and chewed slowly. “He hasn’t called and now he’s with her.” Plucking a flute of champagne from a passing waiter, she took a long sip. “To hell with him.” Putting the glass away, she turned toward an acquaintance. “Jason, how nice to see you! Why don’t we take a spin on the dancefloor?”
Before the man could catch his breath, she was dragging him onto the dancefloor and had wrapped herself around him.
“Son of a bitch!” Maxwell was in the middle of a discussion with the mayor when he looked over and saw them together.
“Pardon?” The man gave him a startled look.
“Maxwell just remembered something he had to do.” Annie gave him a charming smile and diverted the man’s attention. “Right, darling?”
“Yes.” Maxwell bit out, hazel eyes glowing. “If you would excuse me?”
“Of course. I hope everything is- “His voice tailed off as the man turned and walked away.
“It must be an emergency.”
“It is.” Annie gave him a sweet smile. “Why don’t we get some bubbly?”
He had to force himself not to march over there and drag the bastard by his slicked-back blonde hair and choke him to death. The violence sent his blood boiling.
Something clicked and he happened to notice the nosy and pesky Joseph Petroni, hardnosed reporter for the Tattler watching him curiously.
Taking a deep breath, he slowed his stride and walked over to where Michael was sipping champagne.
“Maxwell.” The knowing look on the man’s face angered him.
Giving the man a curt nod, he picked up the plate of fruit Alessia had left there. “Who the hell is he?”
“Jason Price, heir to a small fortune and a pedigree as long as my arm.”
“What’s she doing with him?” He pasted a smile on his lips.
“Paying you back for arriving with the lovely Annie.”
His eyes burned. “Give her a message for me?”
“Gladly.” Michael was enjoying himself.
“I need her to make any excuse she chooses, tell her old man she has something to do, an emergency with a friend came up and she has to sort it out. Tell him anything, but she is to find herself at my apartment in half an hour.”
“Will you be there?” Michael asked him mildly. “I’m just asking because you happen to be the man of the hour.”
“I’ll extricate myself from this thing and will be there.” Turning his head, he felt the anger almost bursting out of him when she wrapped her hands around the bastard’s neck and laughed up at him.
