“We should dance too, Adam.”Rosie jack-in-the-boxes out of her seat.
“I thought you said you needed to sit down for a bit,” her new companion replies.
She peeps at him seemingly puzzled.
“You said your shoes were pinching.”
“Oh, yes.That’s true.Maybe in a bit.”
I see through Adam’s ploy to avoid the dance floor.He doesn’t want to lose his claim on the seat at our table, and he’s assuming that I’m going to return to that spot, because how else will the ushers locate me ready for my keynote address?If it was just Adam to contend with, I’d weather it out, but the Adam-Rosie-Kira combo is too much.Dancing with Kira is definitely the lesser evil.
“Is dancing one of Falchard’s recommended activities for seamless integration into your role for the evening?”I ask as we find a space amidst the other dancers.
“He never mentioned it, but I’m sure he’ll approve.It does keep us suitably close.”
Too close.
“You’re sure you don’t need to close the gap a little further?”
I pray otherwise.She’s pressed against me already in a way that’s making my blood heat.The band segues into a waltz.Seriously, we’re waltzing.Who dances like this anymore?Who knows the steps?
Me apparently.
And Kira too.
“Are you sure you can keep an adequate watch out for undesirables pressed this close?”
She clacks her tongue at me.“You keep telling me there are none.That this is all a plan by your production company to keep you on a short leash.”
“It is.”
“Why does your leash need shortening, Dylan?”
God help me, I’m starting to enjoy the press of her body against me, and the tone of disdain in her voice.She disapproves of me, but at least part of her is enjoying this.
“You’re a worldly woman, I’m sure you can figure it out.”
“Hm.”She nods so that her chin briefly brushes against my shoulder.“Well, I do recall reading that you were involved in a dodgy threesome, and there was that horrid kerfuffle with the transgendered kid.Wasn’t he underage?Still sweet sixteen?”
“Only if you ignore the decade he spent transitioning.”She’s quoting incidents from my soon to be released autobiography.I’ve got to wonder how she’s got hold of a copy.Maybe my agent sent along an ARC to the security firm as background reading when he hired them to watch out for me.“I see you’ve been doing your background research.”
Amusement flares in the centre of her eyes.“You don’t exactly keep a low profile, all your dirty laundry is out there in the public domain.”
“Not quite all of it.”At least not yet.Not until the book officially releases.InKiss ’n’ Tell, I do exactly that, minus the names, of course.No sense in inviting lawsuits.
Kira sniffs, and makes a little ‘ha’noise as if she’s stumbled upon an important clue.“Are any of those secrets big enough to rile someone up enough to want to hurt you?”
My book is a combination of lewdity, lust, and scabby horrible memories that I can’t help but pick at once in a while, the sort that refuse to mend and grow silvery with age.Laying it all out there is supposed to help me move on.Maybe I undermined that when I chose a humorous style to relate everything in.Any good shrink will tell you that’s a coping mechanism right there, and a prime example of me trying to diminish the seriousness of some of the crap I endured by making a mockery of it.
The book’s not all doom and gloom stuff though, there’s plenty of crass and ass too.
“Are you imagining I’ve a psychotic ex who’s out for revenge?”
“Have you?”
“That would involve me dating.”
“So, a disgruntled one-night stand?”
