Blade had changed from a charcoal suit to a black one. “You look good,” he said, eyes soft when he saw me.
“Oh ye of little taste,” I grumbled, though it did feel nice to be complimented.
Blade kissed me on the cheek, and I didn’t protest. Then he handed me a box. “I know you didn’t get the dress of your dreams.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m a big girl. I can cosplay as Brook Shields for my fake hubby’s business dealings.”
“Still, maybe this will cheer you up.”
I opened the box. There was a Givenchy clutch in a soft black leather with a gold clasp that had a minimalist pattern of diamonds on it.
“Dayum,” Edward remarked from the doorway.
“You all can go home now. Your services are no longer needed,” I told him loudly.
“Apparently, if people are over here throwing six-thousand-dollar clutches around.” Edward gave me a mock salute. “Please don’t kill your sister. I still need to be paid. Also, I have a hookup tonight, and I will not be bailing anyone out of jail.”
* * *
“I had almost forgottenmy sister was going,” I grumbled as Blade and I waited in the lobby for his brothers. The car was outside, but it was cold, and I had neglected to purchase a coat.
The elevator dinged.
“You’re always so early,” Weston complained loudly, then exclaimed, “Avery.”
I still wasn’t sure where I stood with Blade’s brothers. Weston was a lot friendlier than Hunter though, who looked down his nose at me when he stepped off the elevator. A buxom lingerie model stood next to him. Blade and Weston both sucked in a breath. I didn’t see what the deal was. I figured if you were a billionaire, you were going after the hottest woman in the food court. The busty model did have a tattoo with her own name on it across her chest, so I wasn’t sure how engaging the conversation would be. But then, I had a fake boyfriend, so who was I to judge?
“Hi,” I said, holding out my hand to her as Blade and Weston did some sort of silent male communication thing with Hunter.
“Are you hungry, Svetlana?” I asked, since that was what the tattoo said. “This restaurant is supposed to have pretty good duck comfit.”
“Oh.” She giggled. “I had bee pollen and a chai yogurt drink this morning, and I’m still full.”
Right, it was going to be that kind of evening.
“Where’s your date?” Hunter growled at Weston.
“She is on her way,” he said.
The brothers were silent again. Blade looked concerned. The doorman took two steps and opened the door, and a curvy woman wearing brown stiletto boots and a tweed trench coat smiled at him then walked over to us.
“Deputy Mayor!” I greeted her. Meghan Loring was the deputy mayor of Harrogate, though her great uncle, Mayor Barry Loring, barely did enough work to earn his paycheck. Meg probably should just be crowned mayor at this point.
I still kept abreast of small-town gossip and had heard the various stories over the years of the rise, downfall, and inevitable nuclear-level fallout of Meghan and Hunter’s relationship. Hunter’s face was a mask of fury as he looked between Weston and Meg.
“Ready to go?” Weston said cheerfully, offering his arm to Meg.
“Dude,” Blade said to his brother, “you didn’t.”
“I can’t believe you,” Hunter yelled at Weston as Svetlana and Meghan eyed each other up and down.
“I can ask her out on a date, especially since you just had that aspiring underwear model up in your condo,” Weston shot back.
“He was showing me the view!” Svetlana simpered.
“Oh, he was showing you the view,” Meghan said, one eyebrow raised. “And how was the view?”
“It wasn’t like that,” Hunter said through gritted teeth. “I hope you’re just here on business.” Hunter grabbed Meghan’s arm.
