She gives me a weak smile. “Thank you. I like the tux.”
I don’t.
Not for shit like this.
“It’s getting stuffy in here,” I reply. “How about you come outside with me and smoke a joint?”
She quirks an eyebrow. “Is that what the King of Wharf Bay is supposed to be doing during an event like this?”
“Does it look like this King of Wharf Bay gives a fuck?” I reach and hold out my hand for her. “I’d rather spend time with my girl.”
Bay hesitates for the briefest of seconds, and I can’t blame her. We haven’t always been on the best terms and I’m either comforting or bitching at her. There hasn’t been much in between.
Sliding her hand into mine, she allows me to guide her outside and into the cool night air when I ask, “How did you know about this tonight?”
“Luisa.” I roll my eyes. “Figured you’d want the company.”
“I didn’t want you to feel obligated to come,” I answer honestly. “I’d prefer if you rested.”
“I’m not going to lie, showing up with The Nameless and seeing half of these Baby Boomers shit their pants was the highlight of my week.”
I chuckle. “I wish I would’ve been able to see that.”
“Well, we can drag them around the whole room with us. You wanted to be seen together anyway.”
“Yes”—I pivot and wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her snug to my chest—“I think the Queen of South Shore should be on my arm the whole night.”Fuck Vivian.I clear my throat. “I should warn you Viv is here. Uninvited.”
Bay lifts her shoulders. “Desperation has a funny smell to it. I saw her already.” I grunt my disapproval that we even have to talk about my ex’s presence. “I’ll behave.”
“I won’t,” I retort. “I’m tired of that bitch.”
Bay lifts her head, her lips curling into a bigger smile. “I didn’t know you liked stirring up trouble.”
“You’re rubbing off on me.” I lean in, unable to help my damn self because I’m feeling a whole hell of a lot better now that she’s here. “There’s another piece of you that can rub on me, too.”
“Oh,” she whispers, running the pads of her fingertips along my hips. “And what would that be, Mr. Black?”
“It’s Sinatra,” I lightly chide, brushing my lips lightly over hers. “And I wouldn’t object to your cunt grinding against my thigh while we’re smokin’ this blunt?—”
“Cairo?”
My spine snaps straight at the sudden intrusion, shattering through my moment with Bay because why the fuck not?
A woman stands within the French Doors. A sparkly gold dress hugs her body and glimmers off the sunset and lighting inside as she takes it upon herself to step closer and not leave.
“I was hoping to run into you at this party. But you’ve been preoccupied. I didn’t realize you had company.”
“What can I do for you?” I hedge tersely even though I have a funny feeling I already know who this is.
She steals a quick glance at the woman still pressed up against me but doesn’t give anything away. “I’ll come find you when you’re not otherwise engaged.”
“Not sure who I’m looking for when I don’t have a name.”
“Sienna Matthews,” she deadpans, folding her hands together in front of her. “I’ve come to talk to you about the arrangement our fathers discussed.”
I nod. “Go ahead.”
“I’m not going to in front of company.”
