Ginny Lawson is the first one I note in the distance. She’s looking sophisticated in a simple, white strapless dress with a gold belt. Her hair has grown out to a longish bob in stylish waves, making her look more mature than the average woman still in her early twenties. As the upcoming star in a Kathryn Bigelow film, her first since leaving Can Do Town, she’s one of the stars of the night.
She catches our eye and smiles, raising the champagne glass in her hand toward us. I give a small wave back, and Dylan grins her way. I know that later on, the two of them will meet up for their usual little pow-wow sessions.
I eventually find Simone by one of the hors d’ oeuvres tables with Georges and CoCo. She is looking gorgeous as ever in a red strapless gown with a gauzy, ruffled skirt. I drag Dylan that way, for both her and the food. I’m starving.
“Where’s Archer?” I ask as I pluck a prosciutto-wrapped fig up by its fancy toothpick to pop into my mouth.
“At a Sexton Enterprises party? Where do you think? No doubt, he already has three new accounts for Bennett Financial.”
I nod in acknowledgment.
“Forget finances. Girl, look at you!” CoCo gushes, pulling back to get the full picture of me. He’s in a white tuxedo with a red and green plaid bowtie and cummerbund.
I make a coy pose for him, then laugh.
“My question is, how come there hasn’t been no dang party yet? How you gonna get pregnant and not hook your baby up with at least some fanfare?” Georges sasses.
“Fanfare is exactly what we’re avoiding. He’s going to have as normal a childhood as possible.”
“Mmm-hmm,” he hums in disapproval.
I realize that I’m in the wrong group to start critiquing any sort of “fanfare,” so I change the subject.
“And how are my niece and nephew?” I ask Simone.
“Already scoping out the tree. In all fairness, you can barely see it for all the presents, mostly from Archer, surprisingly enough. Poppy is already a Daddy’s girl, and Stuart only encourages it—this from the boy who wanted a little brother.”
I laugh, already thinking about the family Dylan and I are about to start. I can’t wait for Christmases like that.
I manage to last a little more than an hour, mostly gorging on the bite-sized food. Dylan is the first to see all the signs that I’m done for the night. We’re talking with one of the actors set to star in Angel Boy, which is indeed a biopic on Dylan’s life.
“Okay, Max, I think it’s time for me to get the old ball and chain home for the night.”
I smirk tiredly and elbow Dylan in the side.
We wind our way through the crowd until we’re stopped by Gene Peters.
“Dylan, I was hoping to catch up with you for the night. First, happy holidays to you both.” He gives me a gracious smile.
We’re both polite enough to return the pleasantries.
“I see Serafin Productions is doing well,” he says diplomatically. “Though, that’s no surprise. You always had the golden touch.”
“We’re pleased with how things are going,” Dylan says, even though I know he’d love to boast a little.
“Still no thoughts about coming back to Sexton? Even in a purely marketing capacity?”
“I think that leaf of my life is firmly turned over, Gene. What can I say, you’ve rubbed off on me. The bad boy is officially gone. All the more so since I’m going to be a dad.”
Gene’s face falls a little before brightening up as he turns to me. “Yes, of course, congratulations to you both.”
He turns back to Dylan. “Well, I had to try. The board would kill me if I didn’t at least make an attempt. At any rate, congratulations again and happy holidays.”
“Thank you, Gene,” I say politely.
As we continue toward the exit, we both smirk, eventually chuckling in amusement.
Back home, I’m quick to get out of the dress and take a shower, then change into a silk nightgown.
When I enter the bedroom, I find Dylan still in his tuxedo with the bowtie undone and his cufflinks off. He’s sitting on the bed looking over something on his phone. I’m sure it has to do with Angel Boy, which he has been obsessed with since the idea first came to fruition.
I smile as I observe him for a moment. He’s still as sexy as the night I saw him for the first time. More so like this, when he’s serious and focused. It’s enough to stir something in me, and suddenly the last thing I want to do is sleep. I walk to the bed and crawl over the covers to lean on his shoulder.
“Why in the world do you still have clothes on?” I purr in his ear.
He snaps his head up to look at me, then a sly grin appears on his face.
“I thought that was my line.”
“What can I say? You’re a bad influence on me.”
“Oh yeah,” he says.
“Yeah.”
“Just how bad?”
“Put that phone away, and you’ll find out.”
“No need to ask twice,” he says, turning it off and placing it on the nightstand.
Also by Camilla Stevens
WRIGHT BROTHERS SERIES
Mr. Wright & Mr. Wrong
Mr. & Mrs. Wright
So Wrong
STAND ALONE
One Night
Sweet Seduction
EX-CLUB ROMANCE SERIES
Archer: Ex-Bachelor
TEXAS HEAT ROMANCE SERIES
Home Run
High Stakes
Hard Sell
INTERNATIONAL LEGACIES ROMANCE
The Italian Heir
The French Thief
The Nordic Lightning
Her Icelandic Protector
Dylan: Ex-Bad Boy: An Ex-Club Romance Page 23