“Who are you most excited to see tonight?”I asked, batting my eyelashes.
“You know the answer.You.”
I felt my cheeks heat up again.That was definitely a lie, probably for the driver’s sake.“Okay.Besidesme.”
“No one.I don’t like going to this event.I’d even had Marina shred the invitation when I got it.”
“So why are we going?”
“Because Archer and I need to make a good impression.”He sent me a calculating smile.“We had a not-so-great run-in with Sebastian Cross the other day—”
“Sebastian Cross?”I blurted.
Nash’s cool and collected expression fell slightly.“Yes.I take it you know him?”
“I’ve never met him,” I hurried to clarify.“I’ve only heard of him, because his name is on practicallyeverything.”I bit my tongue before adding more, because I didn’t need to.The truth was, Cross Developments in New York City was as ubiquitous as yellow taxis.Everybody knew about Cross, even if they’d never seen Sebastian or his family.
Nash looked annoyed.“Right.Well, Cross is probably one of those people who’d be happy to see me set myself on fire and jump out the tenth story window, so don’t expect me to be kissing his ass like the rest of the city does.I disliked him before I met him, but now that I’ve met him, I can truthfully say that I detest him.”
“Sounds like a wonderful colleague,” I joked.
“Unfortunately, he’s the reason we’re here tonight.He thinks my brother and I are inconsequential players.I’m here to remind him he’s wrong.”
I nodded, filing this information away into some area of my brain that I hoped existed for marriage ruse purposes.“With a business like Cross Developments behind him, I’m sure it’s easy to get a big head.”
“And his is so large he probably won’t be able to fit through the door tonight.”
We chatted for the rest of the ride to Lincoln Center.When our car pulled up to the entrance, I felt my nerves spike again.Photographers lined the walkway, their cameras flashing as elegantly dressed couples made their way inside.
"Stay close to me," Nash murmured as our driver opened the door.“Let’s hard launch this shit."
I giggled as he got out of the car and then offered his hand.I took it, emerging from the back of the car as elegantly and demurely as possible.All I could think about were the photographers.Would they catch some hideous angle that haunted me for the rest of my life in the tabloids?Everything inside me buzzed as I followed Nash along the carpet, smiling politely at the cameras snapping our picture as we entered.
Once we were inside, his hand found the small of my back: warm and possessive and somehow steadying.
“Hard launched,” he said into my ear.
I bit back a smile, surveying the enormous lobby.Sticking close to Nash wasn’t just the plan, it was mypreference.His sturdy, broad frame next to me felt like a balm, and it wasn’t hard to cling to him as we wove through the enormous lobby.
I was overwhelmed by the sheer opulence.Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a stunning panoramic view of Broadway and West 65th, and the room buzzed with the kind of conversation that shaped city policy.I recognized faces from my old job at the planning department as well as a few council members and commissioners.But the sea of fancy people was endless.I wasn’t sure where to look or what to do other than stick to Nash’s side.
“Nash!”
A husky male voice broke through the din.A man who looked suspiciously similar to Nash approached us, accompanied by a beefy man with a lumberjack beard wearing a black button-up and black dress pants.
“There you are.”The newcomer clapped Nash on the back before his gaze settled on me.“About damn time I met the guest of honor.”
“Clara, meet my brother Archer, and our bodyguard Trojan.”
"The famous girlfriend," Archer said with a grin, kissing my hand theatrically."Nash has told us almost nothing about you, which means you must be special."
I grinned up at Archer, who looked so similar to Nash it was almost confusing.Their tuxes and hairstyles were different—Nash’s hair was trimmed shorter, whereas Archer’s was long enough to sweep back even on the sides.But beyond that?I didn’t know enough about Nash yet to distinguish.My gaze moved to Trojan as I wondered what sort of combat preparedness his job entailed.Guns?Nunchucks?Throwing stars?This didn’t seem the place to ask such uncouthquestions, so I merely said, "It's nice to finally meet you both."
“Just promise me one thing,” Trojan said, seeming to grow even taller.“You won’t hurt our Nashy-Nash.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I said with a laugh.“Especially when there’s a man named Trojan keeping an eye on things.”
“It was a military nickname that stuck,” he said softly.
