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The people around us go quiet. Not amused anymore. Good. Because this stopped being amusing thirty seconds ago.
“You should be very careful what you accuse strangers of.”
“Why? Did I hit a nerve?”
“No. You crossed a line.”
“Excuse me, ladies.”
A uniformed security guard appears at my side. Fantastic.
“Is there a problem?”
“Yes,” Celeste says immediately.
I turn toward her.
“You've got to be fucking kidding me.”
“This woman doesn't belong here.”
The guard looks at me.
“Ma'am?”
“I'm an invited guest.”
“She's claiming she's Mitchell Knight's guest,” Celeste cuts in. “But Mr. Knight isn't here, she can't produce an invitation, and no one actually saw them arrive together.”
“Ma'am, may I ask who invited you?”
“Mitchell Knight.”
Celeste gives a vicious little laugh.
“Of course she says that.”
My temper snaps.
“Lady, what exactly is your problem? Is it that Mitchell invited me, or that he didn’t invite you?”
She makes a horrible little sound, like a toddler throwing a tantrum, before she replies.
“My problem is when fat little nobodies like you scam their way into events like this looking to trick wealthy men into bed!”
“That's enough.”
The voice comes from behind me. Quiet. Controlled. Absolutely lethal.
Every hair on my arms rises.
Mitchell.
Celeste goes silent. The security guard straightens immediately.
“Mr. Knight.”
Mitchell doesn't acknowledge him.
