“Yeah, you do. You’ve got these deep parentheses around your mouth.”
Scowling, he checks his reflection in the faceted mirrored wall behind him. “I’ll have you know those are called nasolabial folds.”
“You actually know what they’re called?”
“How can I forget? Georgette accused me of dumping her for having them. Apparently they’re a sign of aging.” He rolls his eyes and sighs.
I wince in sympathy. She’s a third-tier socialite psycho stalker who set her gold-digging sights on Nate. She decided she wanted to be Mrs. Sterling, no matter what it took. Not that I can blame the social-climbing, materialistic bitch. Nate’s family is one of the richest on the planet. Plus she wasn’t totally crazy, because she wisely understood that Nate would be easier to approach than his older brother, Justin. Unfortunately for Nate, he didn’t r
ealize what was going on and slept with her. Later he figured out she was nuts and tossed her away with the enthusiasm of an Olympic hammer thrower.
When our server comes by, I ask for a mini paella and sparkling lemonade. The drink arrives almost instantly.
“And she’s back,” Nate says.
“Who?”
“Georgette.”
“I thought she was in rehab.”
“Not anymore. She says she’s clean, and she wants me back.”
I almost spew the lemonade. “Didn’t you break up, like”—I have to think—“a year ago? And wasn’t it pretty bad? She tried to brain you with a vase, right?”
“She says she made herself over and is now clean and worthy of me.”
My jaw slackens. “Did you see her?”
A couple of jerky nods. “She barged into the medical center yesterday. It was the most awkward shit ever.”
“Did she fix her crazy?”
“No, but she did make herself over. I almost didn’t recognize her from all the plastic surgery.”
Damn. “Bigger tits and ass?” She has a pretty face, but, as I recall, could use some help with her body.
“No. I mean, yeah, that. But her face, too. Her nose and mouth and chin. Jaw line. Enough fillers and Botox to turn her facial muscles into plastic. It’s like she cut out the best features of my favorite actresses and glued them onto her face. They look hideous together.” Shuddering, Nate knocks back his scotch. “Fuckin’ Frankenstalker.”
I shudder too. “I know it sucks, but just ignore her. She’ll go away.”
“She won’t. Can you ask Pascal to bid on me at Elizabeth’s bachelor auction?”
I stare at him like he’s lost his mind. He probably did after having seen Georgette. “Why bother with the auction? Just give Elizabeth money for the cause she’s trying to champion with this. Problem solved.”
“Can’t. I owe her one. She wants a lot of publicity to raise as much as possible, and I already said yes.”
“Then swap with her ‘assistant.’ You know, that Russian dude who looks like an ax murderer.” He probably is an ax murderer, not that I’d ever say that to anybody because that man is creepy. I met him once when I went to the Pryce Family Foundation office to see Ivy, and I don’t ever want to again, especially in a dark alley.
“Tolyan?” Nate’s eyes bug out. “She wants good publicity, not a horror movie.”
“Okay, you have a point. How about Yuna? She has the money to bid on you.”
“She turned me down. Said if she wins me, her mom’s going to send us ten thousand china patterns she’s been saving and start planning a wedding.” Nate’s face scrunches as though he’s bit into a slice of lemon. “I like her, but I’m not marrying her, and I certainly don’t want the Hae Min Group after me. Barron will murder me.”
True enough. His grand-uncle is old-fashioned about certain things. “Don’t you know any other women?”
“Lots. But they’d all want to turn it into something more. I could ask my assistant, but she says she doesn’t want to because she’s worried about what people might think.” Nate looks vaguely insulted. “Like it matters what other people think. What she should be worried about is what I think of her performance.”