money for the evening and the tickets for the event.
“Coming!”
Shutting off the lights, she carefully took the stairs, very mindful of her shoes’ ability to kill her.
She hated high heels, but these babies were serving a purpose. Reaching the bottom, she unlocked the
door and pulled it wide. “Ready?”
Nick looked quite debonair in his black tie. His hair was freshly cut and his tailored tux fit him to
perfection. Her gaze traveled from his shiny patent leather shoes to his face. His mouth hung wide as
he stared back at her.
She drew in a breath, incredibly self-conscious. “What? Is this too much? Should I try to find
something else?” Not that she had anything else. “Maybe we shouldn’t go.”
“Ev, you look . . .” He swallowed. His voice was a mere rasp. “Wow. I mean, wow! ”
“Yeah?”
He shifted and stood a little taller. Tugging the lapels of his tux, he held out his arm. “Your chariot awaits.” She smiled and took his arm.
Nick drove a well-loved S10 truck of the ugly duckling sort. It was a loud and bumpy ride to the
Marion, the hall hosting the Rose Bowl, but Scout didn’t mind. She was just glad he’d agreed to go.
When they arrived, there was a parking attendant ushering a long line of luxury vehicles down the
sectioned-off shoulder of the road as valets relieved drivers of their keys. Scout withdrew into herself a bit when she noticed most females were dressed in long, flowing gowns. She glanced at her exposed
knees and became very aware of the sharp angle of her bare shoulders on display.
She swallowed. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this?”
Nick glanced at her, then back out the windshield as the line eased forward. “What are you talking
about? We’re all gussied up and you spent a ton on the tickets. Might as well have fun.”
Her fingers fidgeted with the billowy material barely concealing her breasts. Never before had she
dealt with jealousy. That’s what this was: pure, stupid jealousy because Lucian was moving on just
like she told him to do.
Disappointment in her actions made her feel even smaller. She didn’t deserve to go to a function
like this and that money should’ve gone toward more important things. None of this was part of her
well-thought-out plan.
“Do I just give them the key? Do I need to tip or is that later? This is nicer than my prom was. Holy
shit, is that Harvey Geswaldi?”
Scout glanced out the window at the tall man Nick was asking about. She had no idea who Harvey
Geswaldi was, and Dugan always drove them so she didn’t know what the parking protocol was. “I
don’t know.”
“Hey.”
She turned to Nick and found him studying her, a slight kink to his brow. Her lungs drew in a deep
breath.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yes. No. I don’t know. I’m regretting my decision to come here.”
His expression blanked. “Because of me?”
“No, God no. I just . . .” She sighed. “Can I tell you something?”
“Always.”
“I wanted to come to make someone jealous.”
His assessing gaze traveled from her knees, up her thighs, over her unsupported, barely covered
breasts, to her face. “Is it Patras?”
“Yeah. Stupid, I know. I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb and he’ll be so preoccupied with his
stupid little actress he won’t even see me.”
His frown reappeared. “First of all, Ev, you can’t go by the tabloids. Second, have you seen your
reflection? You look crazy good, but not only tonight. You’re really pretty every day. Everyone in
there with working male anatomy and heterosexual thoughts will notice you. And third, you’re fun.
That Nicole chick can’t compete.”
Scout smiled at his attempt to cheer her, wishing his words could actually calm her nerves.
“Lucian’s in his thirties. She’s more his age.”
“You call him by his first name? Wow, you really did meet him, didn’t you?”
Oh, she’d done more than meet him. “I know him well. We sort of had a disagreement.”
It was Nick’s turn to look nervous. “Did you two hook up or something? He’s not gonna come after
me for showing up here with you, right?”
“No. Lucian always handles himself with class.” Except with Parker, and surely that was an
exception. She hoped she was telling the truth and that the sophistication of the event would prevent any unwanted scenes. “Besides, he probably won’t even notice I’m there.”
Nick smiled. “Well, don’t let age throw your confidence. It’s just a number.” He glanced over his
shoulder. “You want to make him see what he gave up? Okay, we’ll put on a nice little show. Come
on, let’s get you a drink and have some fun. We’ll pretend we’re rich folk for the night.”
The attendants opened the doors and they were assisted out of the truck. Nick handed over his keys
and was given a small white ticket, which he stashed in the breast pocket of his tux.
Someone held the door as they stepped over the threshold, and a throng of guests checking their