“Jezebel,” she said, without much enthusiasm.
“Are you okay with something a little less unique?” I asked. “I was thinking Jessica Smith? Although it will be Jessica Knockley, now.”
Her expression cleared. “Jessica is good. Funny... back in school I used to tell people that’s what Jez was short for. I always hated Jezebel. My dad chose it.”
I ached for a little girl who’d been branded deceitful and immoral before she could even talk. Idly, I wondered if Jez’s father was still alive, and if he’d ever faced any consequences for what he’d done to her.
“Jessica it is, in that case,” I said. “And while I may not be able to promise you another mate bond, you’re more than welcome to my last name.”
Jez’s eyes went far away. “It’s been a long time since I had one of those,” she said.
FORTY
Tony
IF YOU’D ASKED ME FORreasons why I might be required to wear a tuxedo someday, I might’ve joked that I’d already missed my high school prom, and I was highly unlikely to ever be recruited as anyone’s groomsman... much less a groom.
I wouldnothave said that I might have to go to a black-tie gala recognizing the economic impact of regional leaders in international trade. Because, up until recently, the closest ties I had to international trade involved ordering cheap electronics off of eBay and waiting weeks for them to arrive from China.
When Jez had told me that Knox wanted me to attend as part of the pack, I’d thought she was joking.
Spoiler alert—she hadn’t been joking.
“We’re going to bearm candy,” she’d told me solemnly, blinking huge gray eyes up at me in a way that completely failed to hide the devilish glint behind them. “That means we both have to dress up real pretty for the alphas.”
I’d blinked back at her, probably with much more of a ‘deer in the headlights’ expression than she was wearing. “Um... how pretty are we talking about? Will I have to find a tie to go with that expensive suit?”
The look she gave me as she patted my cheek had been pitying.
“Sure, something like that,” was all she’d said.
And so, once again, I’d found myself being measured and examined by a well-dressed store clerk with a tape measure literally hanging around his neck. But this time, I’d emerged from the store with a slim-cut black tux in a garment bag, complete with starched shirt and bow tie.
It was not what one would call a comfortable outfit. And yet, somehow, I found that I was enjoying wearing it. That might have been due to a poorly hidden teenage James Bond fantasy... or it might have had more to do with the way Heath had been eyeing me like he wanted to tear the tux off my body with his teeth. Gage had also been shooting me occasional admiring looks, and even Knox had whistled low when he saw me.
Still, when it came to arm candy, I was nothing compared to Jez. I’d wavered for hours before finally gathering up my courage and applying a bit of subtle guyliner around my eyes. Meanwhile, she’d spent an afternoon with some high-end stylist, having her hair and makeup professionally done. With the addition of a stunning emerald mermaid gown that hugged her slender from bust to knees before flaring out in layers of tulle and lace that brushed the floor, she looked like visiting Nordic royalty.
When he wasn’t subtly checking me out, Gage had been staring at Jez like a love-struck puppy. Knox had also done a startled doubletake, while Heath looked like he was in danger of having a stroke.
None of this felt real. Not the limo ride from the pack house to the historic Greystone Hotel, where the ultra-rich hosted weddings and galas in an updated hundred-and-forty-year-old, four-story building with a view of the lake. Not the bevy of waiters and attendants scurrying around us as we were seated at a table near the raised stage at the front of the banquet hall, orthe glittering guests milling and chatting over the sounds of an honest-to-god string quartet.
Amazing food started arriving as soon as we were seated—plates of tiny appetizers and bottles of champagne, little bowls of chilled soup and fruit cut into intricate shapes. Jez and I exchanged a glance, our lips pressed tightly together to keep from descending into stupid giggles as we eyed the dizzying array of different-sized forks set before us.
Still battling for control of my expression, I picked one up at random and speared a piece of shrimp rolled in a translucent wrap with greenery poking out of the ends.
