The idea is so huge I can’t wrap my mind around it, so I tuck it away to ponder later.
The Baylors thank us again for attending their daughter’s celebration, then head off to greet other guests.
“You still hungry?” George asks after pressing his lips to the sensitive skin just behind my ear.
I shiver, and my answer comes out more suggestive than I mean it to. “Yes.”
His chuckle is strained, but he doesn’t try to drag me off to ravish me, instead heading for a table. Luckily, there don’t seem to be any assigned seats, so we settle at a six-top near the dance floor where George can sit with his back facing the window. Or at least the closest window. There’s almost a three-sixty view.
Waitstaff glide around the gathering to offer champagne, which I accept eagerly. The bubbly alcohol fizzes pleasantly on my tongue, and I give in to the urge to lean my shoulder against George’s. To support him, of course.
So far nothing bad has come of me being here, and I’m going to try to enjoy this night as much as possible.
George settles his hand on my waist, his fingers stroking the silky material of my dress until I can feel the heat of his touch through the fabric once more. My outfit might not be from a designer store, but I think I’ve pulled off an acceptable look for this gathering.
No reason for anyone to be ashamed to be seen with me.
“Shawn and Darla are here,” George murmurs close to my ear, tipping his chin toward the entrance. They’re easy to spot. My brother always makes a striking view, with his tall stature and how he wears a suit easily.
But Darla is the one who draws the eye in their pair.
“She wore her heartbreaker.” I grin at the sight of the familiar dress. On her birthday a few years ago, we drove into the city to visit secondhand stores. Darla wanted a kickass dress, and she found one. Siren red, fitted sweetheart bodice, straps draped off her shoulders, and a short tulle skirt that gives ballerina vibes.
She’s curled and pinned her blond hair into an elegant style and painted her lips the same shade as her dress.
My friend is a knockout. Proof is the dazed look my brother wearsas he follows a step behind her, his eyes sometimes dropping down to her mile-long legs only to pop back up.
“She’s evil. Trying to kill my best friend with a heart attack.” George’s smirk doesn’t convey any sense of true worry for Shawn.
Darla spots me and heads our way, but not before turning to grab Shawn’s wrist and dragging him after her. As if there was any possibility he’d choose a direction she wasn’t walking in.
“Hey,” she greets us.
Shawn doesn’t say anything, too focused on where Darla is touching him. She sighs, lets him go, and snaps her fingers in front of his face. “Focus, Newton. Say hello to your sister.”
“What?” He blinks my way, some of the dazed expression clearing. “Oh, Beth! Hey. George. You guys made it all right?”
“Yep,” I say. “We just got here.” And I hope my cheerful delivery doesn’t give away exactly what we were doing in our hotel room less than an hour ago.
“Come on, Beth. Let’s go to the bathroom,” Darla suggests. Or more like demands. “We’ll freshen up. Count our money. Snort some cocaine. You know, do what rich people do in powder rooms.”
Before I can process her dry joke, Darla is already dragging me up from my chair and away. I hope Shawn doesn’t try to follow us. He needs to stay at the table and distract George from how high up we are.
“Did you chug a gallon of water on your way here?” I ask as Darla pulls me into the ladies’ room. “Is that why you need to pee so badly?”
She doesn’t answer, just pushes in the stall doors, finding them all empty. We’re alone, and having established that, Darla whirls on me.
“How are you really doing?” she demands. “Has anyone said anything shitty to you?”
“What? No.” I sigh at her skeptical look. “I just got here. Like rightbefore you.” I fiddle with my sky blue skirts. “I’m not saying there won’t be people who don’t want me here, but I haven’t run into them yet.”
Darla studies me for another breath, then gives a sharp nod. “You look hot, just FYI.”
I grin in response. “So do you. Heartbreaker dress, huh? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you might want to impress my brother.”
Darla scoffs. “The hell I do.”
I opt not to respond, sensing that past her natural defensive answer, my friend might have something more to say.
