Pamela gives me a once-over, her calculating smile not slipping. “How nice.”
“Excuse us, Pamela.” JP’s voice carries a finality that brooks no argument.
She saunters away with a nod that tells me this isn’t over yet.
“You can chat with her privately,” I suggest. “I’m a big girl, I can handle myself. Seriously, I’ll be over at the bar.”
Even if I’ll loathe every goddamn second of it.
“I have zero interest in talking to her. I’m here to exchange pleasantries and move on.”
My brow lifts at his defensiveness. Maybe he’s so used to supermodels now, they’re just routine.
“I guess this isn’t quite as fun as Comic Con?” He smiles.
I scrunch my face in feigned thought. “Well, the costumes at Comic Con are ironically more breathable.” I sneak a hand behind me, trying to subtly wrestle my silk dress from the vice-like grip of my butt cheeks. The perils of gowns like this: fab for photos, shit for maneuverability. “It’s not that it’s not nice here. It’s just… overwhelming. I’ve glimpsed into your bizarre world.”
“This isn’t my world. This is something I have to do every now and then.” He smiles. “Comic Con with you sounds infinitely more fun.”
My brows shoot up my forehead. Is JP hiding a geeky side?
Before I can answer, a deep voice calls out from behind us. “Wolfe.”
As we pivot to confront the interruption, JP’s frame turns to granite, his fingers on my hip hardening. Oh, they clearly have history here.
“Derek,” JP grudgingly acknowledges. “This is Lucy.”
Derek sweeps a smarmy smile over me, the kind that makes me feel like I need a shower, triggering an oddsense of déjà vu. It’s a feeling I can’t shake.Have I met him before?
“Going incognito, are we, Wolfe?” Derek drawls with an undercurrent of mockery. “You’ve become a veritable ghost in Manhattan. We miss you.”
“Taking a breather in the mountains this week.” JP’s reply is terse, his jaw set like he’s chewing on stale food.
Derek leans in closer, his smirk creeping wider. “Did you manage to clean up your little mess from that night?”
JP’s hand involuntarily tightens around my waist. “It’s handled.”
Now my curiosity is piqued.
Nodding, Derek’s gaze slides to me, a twinkle of curiosity in his eyes. “Good to know. Wouldn’t want my lovely wife catching me on camera. And who might the enchanting Lucy be?”
“I’m just part of JP’s tech team,” I spit out, maybe a bit too quickly. There’s something about Derek that sets off warning bells in my head, a disconcerting familiarity. It’s as if I’ve seen him somewhere, crossed paths maybe.
“We should get moving,” JP interrupts gruffly, not waiting for Derek’s response.
Once we’re safely out of Derek’s earshot, I can’t contain my curiosity. “Who was that?”
JP chugs his champagne. “Just some Wall Street jackass.”
“Has he been in the Quinn & Wolfe offices before?” I ask.
JP’s gaze sharpens on me, curiously unsettling. “No. Why?”
“Uh, no reason.” I shrug, attempting nonchalance. There’s no reason for me to know the guy. To be fair, he looks like every other Wall Street banker—slicked-back hair, a Rolex worth more than my annual salary, pinstripe suit, gleaming shoes.
I just can’t help myself. “What was the mess you had to clean up, if you don’t mind me asking?”
JP’s face darkens. “Nothing. Business.”
