“It’s just smoke and mirrors. Just money.”
He turns to look at me. “It doesn’t have any feeling. Any charm.”
His words are not lost on me.It’s just money.
He says the words like they truly mean nothing, and to him, maybe that’s true. But it’s that one sentence, that one phrase that breaks the illusion.
It’s just money, but money is why I’m here. It’s why he hired me.
But to me, it’s not about the money.
Not anymore.
“So glad you made it, boys,” Garrett says as he and George approach us. He looks at me with a grin. “Well, you clean up nice.”
I grip Aaron’s hand.
“Yes, well, some of us naturally have class,” Aaron says.
Garrett chuckles as his gaze roves over me judgmentally. “Yes, some of us are born with it, I suppose. I do hope you enjoy yourselves tonight.”
“We will,” Aaron says, tugging me away.
“Asshole,” I bite out under my breath as Aaron pulls me towards the champagne fountain.
“Hey.” Aaron regards me with his steady gaze. “Don’t let him get to you, he’s not worth it, I promise.”
I look up at him, his words hanging in the air between us.Easier said than done.
Aaron grabs a glass from the fountain and hands it to me.
“I’m just saying our little movie extravaganza is nothing compared to this.” I sigh.
“You’re the one who said it’s not about the money,” he says, grabbing a drink of his own. “That it would actually be more beneficial and appealing if wedidn’tspend it all. Besides, our event will be better becausewehave class.” Aaron nudges my shoulder.
“You meanyouhave class,” I say, sipping my champagne.
Aaron grasps my chin with his finger, forcing me to look up at him.
“No,” he says steadily. “You have more class in your fucking pinky than Garrett Tempest has in his entire fucking body.”
If only that were true…
I force a smile, feeling my nerves get the better of me. “If you say so.”
Aaron drinks the remainder of his glass, and I do the same.
“Come on, pretty baby, let’s dance,” he says, and I can’t help but follow him to the dance floor. The dark, smooth beats of “Young & Beautiful” by Lana Del Ray fill the air as Aaron wraps his arms around my waist.
“A little on the nose, don't you think?” I say, glancing at the beautiful singer; decked out in a red sequin gown that’s throwing fiery prisms across the parquet floor.
Aaron tightens his grip as I slide my hands up his chest, around his neck.
“I think it’s quite lovely, actually,” he says, his voice smooth and warm.
I turn to look at him, noticing the intense glimmer in his eyes as his gaze dips to my mouth.
“Have you ever read it?” he asks.
