Page 14 of Faking It
“And my point is proven without even having to try,” Jack says through a laugh when she walks away, hips swinging and heels clicking.
“She’s definitely hot but in more of a just-for-the-night way. Not win-Robert’s-approval-material.”
“Agreed.” He waves his hand to all of the people around us. “I’m sure there are more than a few willing candidates here tonight who would pretend to be your true love for a few nights to appease the old man.”
“True.” I take a drink and look around. Long legs, classy dresses, and plenty of opportunity to go around.
“Getting his investment is the end game. I’m sure you’ll take one for the team.”
“They don’t call me a player for nothing.”
“You’re such a dick.”
“So I’ve been told,” I say as I catch sight of the last woman to call me that as she walks onto the patio. Hello, Harlow Nicks.
She showed. And not only showed, but she did so in a dress that reveals nothing but still makes you want to peel it off to see what’s hidden beneath. It’s black and simple with a hint of cleavage and a flash of leg, but damn how it hugs her curves.
And the heels.
She wore them and hell if they don’t look sexy as sin on her. Their pale pink color match the accents on the dress and her hair is in soft curls around her shoulders.
My fingers itch to touch. And do other things.
“See something you like?” Jack says with a bump to my shoulder. “Well, damn. That’s a definite like.”
“No, it’s not. It’s a smart mouth and a hot temper.” But my eyes don’t leave her.
“Oh, but that makes it much more fun. Feisty is a good thing. Especially when it’s beneath the sheets and it looks like her.”
“I need another drink,” I say despite the half-full glass in my hand, but Jack needs to stop looking at Harlow. She’s not for him.
“You do. You need a stiff one so you can figure out who’ll be your ready-set-play-girlfriend.” He pats me on the back as we turn toward the bar after I get one last look her way.
“Considering I’m footing the tab for tonight, I think I’m buying.”
“True, mate,” Jack says, trying his best Australian accent.
“You’re still shit at it,” I say in our usual way.
“And you still love me.”
“NO THANK YOU,” I SAY with a tight smile to the man beside me now making his fourth offer to buy me a drink.
“C’mon, I’d love to buy you one.”
“I know, and I appreciate it, but I’m driving.”
“I could always drive you home.” He places a hand on the small of my back, and I step forward and out of his reach.
“I see my friend I was waiting for,” I lie and smile at an invisible person in the opposite direction. “It was a pleasure meeting you.” No it wasn’t.
“Maybe we can catch up later.”
“Maybe,” I say over my shoulder as I head across the dimly lit terrace. Music is playing softly beneath the low hum of chatter. There is a wide array of people here from what I can tell, but Drink Man has occupied most of my time since I’ve been here.
With a sigh of reprieve, I duck into a darkened corridor bordering the outside of the patio. I’ll just stay here for a few minutes until he turns his attention elsewhere and then I’ll go back out—to the opposite end of the space.
Since I’m here, I might as well make the most of the time and try to meet as many people as possible.
