With that, she was off.
Venezio watched her go before turning back to me, a light dancing in his eyes. “Hundred bucks says the two of them fuck before the end of the year.”
“What? She hates him.”
“Vega doesn’t like people bossing her around. But the only man who could handle her crazy ass is one who is strong enough not to be intimidated by her. And he,” he said, nodding toward Vega’s new boss, “has been tracking her every move.”
When I paid attention, I found he was right.
“So, do you think if we go over there and say Vega said he would make a generous donation, that it would work in our favor?”
Only one way to find out.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Venezio
She was killing it.
Once she had a drink or two in her, Steph loosened right up and lost all the uncertainty she’d been racked with when we’d first stepped into the ballroom.
All those long days begging people to open up their wallets and give at least some spare change had prepared her for the discomfort of having to talk to rich strangers to do the same.
Her friends had been right; everyone in the room had deep pockets and slightly guilty consciences. They were all happy to write her a check right then and there or give her their personal numbers to call and remind them the following day.
Ihad been right about Vega.
Her new boss had been disinterested. Until Steph name-dropped Vega. The second she did, his face changed. And then he was handing her a business card and pledging a staggering seventy-five grand. Steph was supposed to call his assistant in the morning, who would be instructed to personally deliver the check to the charity.
“I’m losing track,” Steph admitted as I pulled out her chair when it was time for the food.
“I’m not,” I promised her. If there was one thing I was good at, it was keeping track of money on the fly. I had a whole fucking ledger going on in my head.
I would have given her the total if our table didn’t start to fill up. I didn’t know much about the elite class, but I did know that money talk was generally considered rude.
Instead, we sat and listened to shop talk about upcoming high-profile cases and where everyone was going for the holiday while we ate a four-course meal that neither of us seemed to enjoy.
As if reading my thoughts, Steph’s head turned, her lips close enough to tease my ear as she spoke. “I’d take a greasy slice of pizza over this any day.”
The food was removed, and the singer came back to join the band, crooning a romantic Christmas song I didn’t recognize.
Couples made their way to the dance floor.
“Come on, guys,” Andy said as Sammy took her hand to lead her to join the others.
“We don’t have to,” Steph was quick to assure me.
I wouldn’t claim to be a great dancer. But any idiot could do a slow dance.
I stood, pulling out Stephanie’s chair, then offering her my arm.
Her cheeks flushed, but she slid her arm through mine and let me lead her to the center of the dance floor.
I pulled her in, her soft body against mine, the silky dress doing nothing to hide her body heat from me as her breasts crushed to my chest and her hand took mine.
Taking advantage of the moment, I pressed my hand more firmly against her lower back, pulling her closer until our bodies were melded together as we started to move.
There was a second where she tensed.
