"Harlow St. James and Archer Hardwick," I said.
The security guard scanned the list. "I have Ms St. James, but Archer Hardlington."
I giggled like I was some kind of a socialite. "Just a little joke of Mr. Bonegard. Of course he meant Hardwick."
The guard looked at us both like we were out of our minds, but shrugged and waved us in. Apparently that was above his pay grade.
I exchanged glances with Archer, but we stepped inside, taking in the beautifully lit gallery and glittering people inside.
"I can't believe he pulled something like this off so quickly," I said out of the side of my mouth.
"I can," Archer said. "Men like Boner only have to mention an event like this and people swarm to take part. If they don't, they'll miss what people here are saying about them."
"Ah, good point," I said.
Parties like this were the perfect place for gossip and making connections. Networking. Who knows how many deals would be made in the quiet corners of the gallery tonight?
I should do some schmoozing of my own. A couple of glasses of champagne and people tended to open up and say things they shouldn't.
"Harlow!" Boner said from the other side of the room. Dressed from head to toe in black, suit, shirt, tie and all, he nodded to his companions and hurried to take my hands.
"You look beautiful." He kissed both of my cheeks and stood back to smile. His hair was tied back in a man-bun, looking sleeker than I'd ever seen him.
Good enough to eat. Well, suck. He wasn't on the menu for Angel's Rest.
"You're very handsome," I told him.
"I'll tell you who's handsome." Boner jerked his head toward Archer. "If I didn't have a party to host, I'd suggest we all sneak away to my office for a private party." He winked.
"It's too early for an Irish exit," Archer said. "That's what they call it when people sneak out without saying goodbye."
"I'm not Irish, but I could pretend," Boner said. "Unfortunately for all concerned, you're right, it is too early. Oh look, Cassius is here." He gestured behind us and frowned.
I turned slowly. Cass walked up to us, also wearing a dark suit, his hair held back from his face with a clip. His brightly colored tie was a contrast to the rest of his outfit.
It was Jules walking at his side that drew my attention.
"Funny, I don't remember Titmus senior being on the guest list," Boner remarked. He sounded unworried but with narrowed eyes that hinted at curiosity with a touch of annoyance.
"Nice to see you too," Jules said sarcastically. He looked like he wished he was anywhere but here.
"Jules insisted," Cass said. "When he found out where I was going tonight."
Jules glanced at him, scowling. "It wasn't the where, it was thewhy. Are you four out of your fucking minds?" He had the sense to keep his voice down.
"You told him?" I asked Cass.
How much had he told him? Did he know about the…meatballs? If I had to guess, I'd say no. If he had, Jules would be tearing my head off right now. Possibly literally.
"He insisted on knowing," Cass said. "I figured he could help." He didn't look angry, but he wasn't going to let me, or anyone else, make him question his decision to let his brother come.
Yes, he was still mad at me all right.
"Just make sure he doesn't get in the way," I said firmly. If either of them thought I was going to back down, they'd have to think again.
"Right back at you," Jules hissed. He looked me up and down, but the expression on his face suggested he wasn't sure if he should stab me in the eyeball with a cocktail toothpick, or tear off my dress, bend me over the sculpture beside us and fuck me boneless.
I suspected the artist, the plaque beside the sculpture read Leah Kent, wouldn't appreciate her sculpture being destroyed like that. Made of branches attached together to make some kind of bird, it wouldn't survive a vigorous fucking.
