I stiffened in spite of myself. He’d said “pettiest” with such disgust. What if he found out about my side hustle?
Fortunately, Malone didn’t seem to notice my reaction, a rarity, but I could tell his mind was elsewhere as he described how the gala was supposed to be a charity event but really functioned as a way for his grandfather to show off to his colleagues.
That’s when it hit me: Blake might be there, too. If he were in any way interested in an inheritance, then he would be. After emptying several personal accounts and skimming from the family business, one would think Blake would be satisfied. For some people, however, enough was never enough.
“Yoo-hoo, Earth to Stella. Are you willing to be my plus-one?”
“I don’t know. When is it?” I asked, as if a part of me hadn’t already cleared my calendar for him.
“Next Tuesday.”
I whistled at the short turnaround. “Dress?”
“I mean, I’d wear one if I were you. As much as I’m hoping to see you naked shortly, I don’t want to share with other people.”
“Cute. Is the event casual, Sunday, formal? What are we talking here?”
He scowled. “I have to wear a tux. What’s that?”
“Formal. Very formal,” I said.
His expression changed. “And that means expensive, doesn’t it? Forget I asked. I’ll suffer alone.”
“Free meal?”
“Of course. Open bar, too.”
“I’m never mad at an open bar, Malone. I’m in.”
“Even though you’ll have to dress up?” His face scrunched most adorably. I could tell he hated getting dressed up just as much as his cousin purportedly loved primping.
“Don’t worry. My nana has a bridal and formalwear shop. She’ll do layaway for me.” I winked.
“But still—”
“No, Malone. It’s been decided. I have to keep my end of the bargain and do something worse to your ex than throwing a punch.”
“You really don’t—”
“Malone?” Feeling fussy—or needing to do something with my hands—I put leftover pizza in storage bags and cleared the table of all but the wine bottle and our glasses.
“Yes?”
“Accept the help.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
My fingers tapped on the tabletop. It was now or never. “So.”
“So?”
Why was this so awkward? It wasn’t the pizza. We’d had pizza last time, and I hadn’t been thinking about my breath then.
Once I sat back down at the table, I took another sip of wine. Maybe the alcohol would neutralize any garlicky breath problems. “It feels weird to slide into the benefits portion of the evening without any questions to ask you.”
“Kinky, Stark.”
“Oh, you know what I mean!”
