Page 2 of Allegiance
“Would you like a shrimp toast hors d’oeuvres?” a waiter inquired.
“Yeah—thanks.” Tank snatched three of the appetizers from the tray and popped them into his mouth.
As he chewed, he watched Dawson, laughing and talking to a group of people who looked as though their clothes cost more than what Tank made in a month at his printing business. He wasn’t surprised his friend had married into a wealthy family. Dawson always had the golden touch when it came to making money. Tabby’s father had gone to Dawson’s law firm when a real estate problem had come up with Jerry Fitzgerald—one of the richest men in town. The guy practically owned all the real estate in Santa Teresita, and he made damn sure everyone knew it. Tank never liked the man or his family, even though he’d dated Quinn Fitzgerald, Jerry’s youngest daughter, for a short time back in high school. Quinn was the rebellious one in the family, and she loved pushing her parents’ buttons. When they were younger, hanging out with Tank was her ultimate act of rebellion. The problem was, she still wanted him as a side gig, even though they’d graduated thirteen years before. Sometimes, when the urge hit and he was tired of the club girls, he’d take Quinn up on what she was offering. But mostly, he regarded her as a spoiled, bratty pain in the ass.
Delicious smells wafted through the air. He looked behind him and saw the waitstaff setting down platters of food on the buffet tables, and a small crowd was gathering around the spread. He shoved a hand through his thick, sandy brown hair, messing up the lame hair gel he’d used that morning, and maneuvered his way through the guests. A majority of the people in his way parted as soon as he got close to them.
“Is everything good to go? Can I go to town?” Tank asked a frazzled, curly-haired waitress standing behind an array of salads, seafood, cold cuts, and cheeses.
The waitress sputtered, blushing, looking everywhere but at him. “I–I’m not sure…”
Tank smiled. “It’s not that hard of a question.”
She shrugged, then chewed on her lower lip.
A striking woman with dark brown hair interjected with, “I’m sorry, but dinner will be served after the toasts.” Her voice was smooth, like a fine glass of whiskey.
Taken aback, he stared at the olive-skinned beauty before letting his gaze trail down her body, to her gunmetal beaded ballet shoes, and then back up, lingering on her luscious cleavage in her V-neck blouse, until settling on her gold stud nose piercing.
Her lips parted, and a pink blush crept across her cheeks.Fuck.His gaze lowered to her cleavage again. When she drew in a sharp breath, her tits rose. Lust gripped his spine, shooting a jolt straight to his balls.
She cleared her throat, bringing his attention to her eyes. “The toasts shouldn’t take too long.”
He pointed to the cheese platter. “I can’t even take one of them fancy crackers? C’mon, I’m starving here.” He gave her his most beguiling smile, boyish and charming. The one that had landed him into countless beds.
Her chestnut eyes fixed on his, as if she were studying him. Finally, she crossed her arms and shook her head. “Thatisn’t going to work here. I’m on a strict schedule from the bride’s family, and if I so much as budge from that timetable, my staff will be overrun with a flood of guests, eliminating my chance of getting a much-needed referral.” Resting her hands on the table, she leaned toward him. “Do yourself a favor and catch one of the appetizer trays I’ve been shuffling out.”
The scent of her perfume wrapped around his libido, causing him to stand there, staring at her like a moron. Pushing his desire aside, he cocked his head to the side.
“Is that how you treat all your client’s guests?” Straightening, she held her head high.Sassy, defiant,andfeisty. I like that.
“Only the ones who think I’ll bend over backward for them just because they’re good-looking andthinkthey’re charming.” Licking her sexy lips, she held his gaze. “Do you need anything else, sir?”
“Well, you told me.” Tank chuckled as he snatched another glass of champagne from a passing waiter.
Her sharp tongue and quick dismissal floored him. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had come up against him like that. Usually, he was beating them off, so he had to admit, her cheekiness was a refreshing change. His eyes lowered, pausingatherthroat where her pulse jumped like a frenzied rabbit, making him feel smug.Yeah, she’s fuckin’ attracted to me, and the feeling is sure as hell mutual.
“Drew?” A lilting, feminine voice chirped from over his shoulder.
Nearly choking on his drink, he turned, just as a sweet little blonde eased up to him, plastering herself to his side. Shit, he had no idea Quinn was going to be there, but he shouldn’t have been surprised. Of all people, she’d never miss out on one of the social events of the summer.
Flicking her long hair over her shoulder, she looked up at him and batted her false eyelashes. The heady scent of her perfume invaded his nostrils, forcing him to wrinkle his nose.
“Hey, Quinn.”
She pursed her lips in a pout. “Where have you been all this time? I’ve been dying for a dance.”
Quinn Fitzgerald—the Princess of Santa Teresita. Fuck.He glanced over at the fiery caterer and threw her a small smile, but she quickly looked away.
Tugging on his arm, Quinn snapped, “I’m over here.”
Tank hesitated before looking down at her.
“Did you really plan to make me wait all night before you came to me?”
“I didn’t see you,” he huffed, downing the rest of his drink.
“But you knew I was going to be here. You should’ve looked for me.”
