“This isn’t a party,” Jeremy whispers. “It’s a cult with better lighting.”
And then, from the crowd’s edge—moving like he belongs there, because of course he does—Nolan“That Snake in the Grass”Rhodes appears.
He’s already at Asher’s side, greeting him like they’ve done this a hundred times. Confident handshake, a lean-in to exchange a few low words. Nolan’s expression is easy, controlled.
My stomach drops.
That’s when it hits me.
Nolan isn’t just here to smirk at me across the rooftop and make my insides curl.
He’s here for the same damn reason I am.
To make a play for Asher Cross.
To win the client.
To winmyclient.
A woman with blonde hair, and heels she’s going to regret later, floats nearby in a sparkly blazer, visibly glowing with approval. She’s grinning manically like she just lit the match that’s about to burn the whole place down.
Rishi and another guy who’s styled like a Temu version of a Kendoll with a trust fund hover behind Nolan like background dancers waiting for their cue.
Nolan’s gaze slithers down my spine before I even look.
That smirk of his is all slow-burn confidence and ruthless precision, saying:
I warned you. Big Stream sets the pace.
Now watch me prove it.
My fists clench at my sides.
Oh, no you fucking don’t.
“Nolan Rhodes is with Asher Cross,” I say.
Maya nearly chokes on her cocktail. “Seriously?”
“Yep.” I turn to Jeremy, brows raised. “Did you do what I asked?”
A wicked grin blooms. “Girl, who you talking to? It’s locked. It’s loaded. It’s Broadway with a garnish.”
Tension in my shoulders loosens just enough to let a smirk slip out. Nolan“Big Panties”Rhodes thinks he’s got this account in the bag. Cute. But if I’ve learned anything lately, it’s that success doesn’t wait for permission. You don’t win by waiting your turn. You win by taking it.
And tonight I’m takingeverything.
“I’m going over there,” I announce.
Maya grips my arm. “Wait, Rorie. What’s the actual plan here?”
“To make sure Asher Cross remembersmyname. Not theirs.”
Before she can say anything else, I glide toward the bar. The bartender spots me instantly, nodding like we’re sharing a secret. Because we are.
“It’s time,” I say.
He grins. “Want a show?”
