“I trust you. Do what you need to do.”
Taking in a deep breath, she exhales. “It’s only a jacket.” She’s so quiet that I think it's her own personal pep talk, but without hesitation, she opens the cuff, sets the scissors down, and yanks the jacket the rest of the way. “There.” Her eyes are bright as she looks at me for approval.
“Great job. Thank you.” Rolling my neck around the collar, I add, “Now I won’t stand out as much.”
She steps closer again, but this time, she takes my tie and straightens it. With a pat to my chest, she says, “You look very dapper, Hotshot.”
I catch her wrist before she slips away. When she looks back, the determination that keeps her on her toes has been replaced by something softer. A moment of weakness? Or is she coming around to trusting me?
“What is it?” she whispers, her eyes wider from curiosity as she searches mine for an answer.
I take a sobering breath, having lost my own ambition to take her down and send her packing. This feels like a date with someone I care about. I swallow down the emotion trying to swell in my chest. I’m sure it will pass. “You almost forgot your necklace.”
Her delicate fingers grace her neck as if she’s surprised it’s not on. “Did you really buy that for me?”
Opening the jewelry box, the diamonds that wrap around the platinum base sparkle without needing light to make them shine. I slip the necklace from the anchors and undo the clasp. I chuckle lightly, not at her expense but at the thought of gifting something to someone and then expecting it back. “You don’t have to give it back at the end of the night.” Shit, did that happen to her? I don’t think now’s the time to bring up the past when we’re working so hard to stay present in our fabrications. I bring it around her neck from behind. Sweeping her hair to one side, I fasten it around her neck, making sure it lays flat on her skin.
When I step around, I admire this stunning creature. “You look like a million bucks, Sass.”
“Sass?”
“If the shoe fits . . .” I use her response against her.
“And I was just getting used to the sound of disdain when you call me sweetheart, and here you go, changing it up on me.” Grabbing the small bag that matches her shoes, she plucks my tie as she passes. “A million bucks says you can’t make it one car ride without denigrating into utter irritation.”
“We’re about to find out, Sass,” I reply with a wink, following her toward the door.
“Okay. Okay. Let’s not wear it out.”
I chuckle as we set out on our first venture, where we’ll encounter people from our real lives.Mine, to be specific.I’m on the edge of my seat, wanting to see how she handles this.
Something about car rides always seems to quieten her. I wonder if she’s using the time to plot or calm. She doesn’t appear anxious and has only touched up her lipstick as if she’s looking forward to the event. Some small talk is made about the crowd ascending the steps into the museum, but otherwise, we arrive without a hitch or a confession.
Upon entering, I check us in and pin our ribbons onto the front of our clothes. “What does a gold ribbon mean?”
Leaning in, I reply, “It means we donated.”
She smiles to herself, but I catch it. “How much?” she whispers, waggling her eyebrows as she digs her nose into my business by lifting on her tiptoes and grinning at me. She’s cute, but I’m still not sharing those figures with her.
“Enough.”
Lowering back down, she pouts. “Blah. Fine, don’t share.” She looks around. “Where can we get a drink in this place?” It’s amazing how she doesn’t seem the least bit worried that she might be busted tonight. I wish I had her confidence.Oh, wait . . .yeah, I’m not known to be humble.
“The bar is over here.” I place a hand on her back to guide her through the crowd. When it gets too dense, I drop my hand to hold hers. She slips it into mine so naturally that I’m beginning to believe we’re a couple. And then I remind myself that snakes slither into your life.
We reach the bar and order drinks. While they pour her a glass of champagne and then reach for the good bourbon behind them, she leans against me, happy, feeling good by how her whole body is pressed against me like I’m not her mark. “I’m glad we came.”
“Have you attended before?”
She gently pushes hair from my forehead and off to the side. “Only with you, silly. You don’t remember?”
“Guess not.”
“I’ve been thinking about something,” she says as we stroll away from the bar with our drinks in hand.
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” I sip the liquor as we find a vacant cocktail table near theLa Nuitbronze sculpture with a view of Central Park at night. I’d rather look at Delaney, who wins my attention over great masterpieces any day.
“Are you really a member of the Mile High Club?” She takes a sip of her champagne and then holds it in front of her with her eyes locked on me.
