“I don’t think so.”
Jo began to pace. “I don’t understand. Why would he tell them? Is he that self-sabotaging?”
“I don’t’ think so. The Sigmas have a strong bond. They’ll never betray one another. If they do, they risk their own skeletons getting out.”
“And yet you know.”
“See, that’s what I’m talking about. Mav and I are close.” Olivia slashed a hand in the air, her frustration palpable. “And yet we’re miles apart. Drives me crazy.”
This was it. After tonight, Jo was done. If Avery didn’t care who found out they were lying, fine. That would behistrain wreck to deal with, but she could lose everything that meant anything to her—her career, her dream, and her self-respect.
Olivia looped her arm through Jo’s. “So what’s it going to be? Rehab or murder?”
Jo laughed because what else could she do. “Let’s go smother a few people.”
Chapter Seven
Something isn’t right.
Legs still wasn’t back from wherever she’d gone. One minute she’d been at his family’s table with his mom, Melody, and Charlotte. The next, she’d disappeared through a side door.
How long did it take for a girl to pee? What if she’d bailed on him?
“If you’re worried about your girlfriend, you should go check on her.”
At the word girlfriend, a ripple of anxious pins and needles prickled along his spine. And people wondered why he didn’t bring dates to these things.
Dragging his gaze from the other side of the ballroom, he angled a wicked grin at Curves, his intended snack for the night. No, her name was Beth Something, and he was determined that, from tonight forward, he’d make more of an effort to remember names.
He’d felt like a piece of shit earlier when he couldn’t remember Legs’. Like he didn’t value her enough to even try. It was just that the women he was attracted to, those he picked up at Pulse, had more important things to memorize.
He sipped at the cheap whiskey and stepped closer to Curves—Beth, Beth, Beth, dammit.Close enough that his shoulder brushed hers.“Not my girlfriend. She’s my date. Big difference.”
Legs was certainly different. But he liked that about her. She didn’t put up with his shit, but she got him in that shake-her-head kind of way.
The tip of Beth’s red nail traced his loosened tie. “In that case, what time are you dumping your date? If you want to leave now”—her finger trailed down his chest to the cummerbund at his waist then fell away—“I reserved a room here at the hotel.”
“Sounds intriguing.” His dick sure thought so. The Whitaker contracts had gone through, and his team had been putting in a lot of overtime. His dick hadn’t been wet in over a week. But words like girlfriend and dumping were killing the vibe.
Dumping Legs. Yeah, that was the plan from the get-go, but now, it made him sound like shit again and had him once more searching the ballroom.
A jolt of relief slammed into him as she strolled through the double doors with Maverick’s admin. His relief was short lived, though, when she didn’t continue toward his table. Instead, she joined Goth-Not-Goth Girl at the Sigma table. That wasn’t good.
Shouldn’t have told them about her or our agreement.
“She’s pretty,” Beth said. “But someone should tell her that dress is so last season.”
Last season? He frowned. That’s why it had been so cheap. He’d been worried when he saw the price. Marcus had mentioned how much Charlotte spent on clothes. And his own Armani tux had cost him four times as much.
But he liked her dress, especially the way it teased his imagination. The dark green velvet hugged her from wrist to waist, outlining her tits while revealing nothing but a sliver of collarbone. From the narrow waistband down, he envied the silk as it hugged her hips and ass, but only for a moment before itflared in waves, making him have to call on the memory of her long, ball-tightening legs.
Fuck. He needed to get out of here.
But just as he was about to open his mouth and accept Curves’ offer, his mom appeared out of nowhere. Goddammit, sometimes he wondered if she’d inserted a tracking device in him when he was born.
He backed off Curves an inch to greet her with a kiss on the cheek. “This is Beth—”Something.“—from Young & Company. You remember Mel’s first big shot move last summer? Beth is one of the accountants I worked with. We were just discussing how well the merger went and how things are panning out.”
Dude, don’t oversell it.
