But I can’t.
Not again.
He’s Poppy’s father.
He’s Dom’s best friend.
He’s everything I shouldn’t want.
But I do.
My phone dings again. I lock eyes with Caleb in the rearview mirror, then open my phone and read the message.
SweetJustice: You never sent me what I asked for. And as I own your future, I advise you to get digging.
I sigh.
Only Mateo can help me. If I can persuade him tonight, maybe he’ll be interested in me enough to protect me from SweetJustice.
The car stops outside the Conti grounds—inside is a mansion fit for a king and it’s all set behind black wrought-iron gates.
As the gates open, Caleb drives until he stops the car outside of the main double doors.
The party is already going strong, with music pounding through the walls and bass vibrating under my feet.
Caleb exits too, coming around to the trunk where my overnight bag sits.
“I’ll come back at midnight, or call me if you want to leave earlier,” he says, his fingers brushing mine as I pass him. The touch sends electricity shooting up my arm. “Any time. I mean it.”
Our eyes lock. Something dark and hungry flashes across his face before he blinks it away.
“Thanks dad,” Poppy sings. She is so excited, she is practically already dancing.
“Thanks, Professor Miles.” My voice comes out breathier than intended.
Does he feel this too? This crackling tension between us? Or am I imagining it because I want him so badly?
“How many times, Amara, outside of the university, it’s Caleb.”
“Thanks Caleb.” I turn away before I do something stupid like kiss him in front of his daughter.
“Come on,” Poppy grabs my hand and pulls me toward the house where party goers stand outside, some smoking, some making out, but everyone is having a good time laughing and drinking.
I pull the hem of my dress over my thighs from where it has risen to my ass.
“Hi Amara,” Lola, a girl from my social studies class, calls out.
I smile and give her a wave and continue intothe house.
When inside, I pick up a sparkling wine piccolo bottle, not bothering with a glass. This is not the kind of party where one needs to be gracious and sip. Not that I’m going to get drunk tonight. I need to keep my wits about me if my aim is to get my plan to work.
I glance at myself in the floor-to-ceiling hallway mirror. The black strappy backed dress and matching high heels should do the trick. My hair is normally flowing down my back in brown waves, but tonight I tied it into a high ponytail to take advantage of the low cut of the dress.
I need every trick I can think of; luckily my mother knows everyone in the book. And one of them is men can be easily influenced to do anything you want with gentle, but feminine persuasion.
My makeup is muted, light lips but lashes of mascara. Another thing my mother taught me, use what you have. And my eyes are my best feature.
All the Bailey girls have the biggest and brightest blue eyes. Though my eyes are the largest and the palest of blue. Milly’s are like sparkling sapphires and Lia’s are the bluest you will ever see, like the azure ocean on a perfect day.
