“I wasn’t expecting them. They don’t like these things, so they never attend. I’ll be good. Promise. But I’m going to go out there and enjoy myself.”
He understood her. Knew she’d do it with the professionalism needed for him to keep the client and the sass that would ensure her parents regretted carting Scotty and his date along with them.
“You want this? It’s yours.” He stroked the sides of her neck with the pads of his thumbs. “You don’t want it? I’ll assign Jase.”
Jase took no shit from anyone.
Then again, pissed-off Marlee didn’t either.
“I want this.” She wrapped her hands around his wrists.
“Then you’ve got this.” He kissed her quickly—he had a buttload of dessert prep to finish so he could get this night over with and get Marlee home and naked underneath him. Or on top. He wasn’t picky.
* * *
Screw.Scotty.
Marlee was about to make a point with a bread basket. She marched through the kitchen, grabbed a basket of rolls, and headed straight for her parents’ table. Tonight, they’d probably be the king and queen of Denver’s elite fundraising community. They’d spend way too much on the auction. And they’d hate, absolutely hate, the idea of their daughter serving them dinner so publicly.
But they were the ones who cut her off.
They could deal.
Carefully, like they were truly important VIPs, Marlee slipped the basket onto the table at Scotty’s left.
“Drop off at the left, remove at the right,” the head waiter had said.
Of course, Scotty, Brittney, and her parents hadn’t noticed she was there. She was one of the faceless servers for the night.
“Enjoy the meal,” she said as brightly as she could.
Her dad startled and glanced at her. He did a double and then a triple take.
“Dad, I think you’ll really like the steak. Eli did an amazing job with it.” She winked at him. “Mom, let me know if you want a refill on the wine.”
“Marlee?” her dad’s business partner, Jim, asked.
Jim was a silent partner, an investor, who never had his own kids, so he’d doted on Marlee when she was younger. He’d never particularly liked Scotty. They had that dislike in common now.
“Hey, Jim.” Like the good server she was, she refilled his water glass. “Let me know if you need anything, too.”
Jim gave a pointed look to Marlee, then the pitcher, then his glass.
“What are you doing?” he asked like she was Lothario and she was hooked to his pant leg.
Her parents and Scotty had gone silent—with shock, she hoped.
“Working.” She filled Scotty’s water glass as well. “Mom and Dad cut off my bank accounts after Scotty dumped me.”
Scotty sucked in an extremely audible breath.
“Leelee,” he said low.
Well, it was true.
“It’s Marlee.” She pointed to her nametag—black matte with white engraving. “And I heard you got some new landscaping.” She pulled ayeeshface. “Orange is an interesting color choice.”
Scotty blanched. Then he got it. She caught the moment he registered it’d been her that did the decorating.
