by Quinn, Cari
“Did Uncle Carter and Aunt Felicity spoil you rotten?”
Carter dropped into one of my club chairs. “He led Felicity on a five-mile chase through the state park.”
“I’m sure she loved that.”
“She’s still cursing me and Sammy.” Carter grinned. “New hiking boots.”
“Ouch.”
“Yep. Blister city. You owe her a pedicure.”
I huffed out a laugh. “Send her for a spa package at Willow’s.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Man. I’ll walk Sammy more often if I’m getting pampered like that.”
I turned back to my vanity. “Make it a couples’ retreat. On me.”
“Okay, now I know you’re really in a state.”
I blew out a calming breath and turned back toward the mirror, then made a perfect line with my liquid brush. “I’m fine.”
Carter moved up to stand behind me so that his face was also visible in the mirror. No avoiding his perceptive gaze. “When’s the last time you slept?”
“Last night.”
He gave me a deadpan stare.
“I did.”
He didn’t need to know it was only two hours, but I had slept. Fitfully.
I dabbed concealer under my eyes and finished off with a light powder. I gave Sammy a quick rubdown and shrugged out of the button-down shirt I as wearing.
He frowned. “Where’d you get that?” He fingered the material and checked the label. “Since when do you have anything by Hugo Boss?”
“It’s just a shirt.”
“You’re the girliest girl I know. The only thing you would have by Hugo Boss is a jacket. Definitely not a men’s shirt.”
“I’m not a nun, Carter. No matter how you like to infer otherwise.”
“Oh, boy. The teacher voice is coming out. You’re seeing him tonight, aren’t you?”
“What? No.”
Please God, no.
“Yeah you are.”
I shook my head. “I’m going to the Love & Paws benefit to make sure Bethany doesn’t do anything stupid like adopt four dogs again.”
“You have to babysit Babbles tonight?”
“Bethany and Michelle will be there.”
“The gruesome twosome. Awesome. Do you want me to come for backup?”
I shook my head. “I’ll be fine. We’re just going to make an appearance, donate some money, and listen to a few speeches. No big deal.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. Early night and everything. Thank Felicity for taking care of Sammy. My schedule was nuts this week.”
“Sure. You know she loves him.”
“I do.” I slicked on another layer of crimson lipstick and tucked a lock of hair over my ear, sliding it into the braid I’d spent twenty minutes de-constructing so it looked messy. Oh, what a woman did for fashion.
“Do I pass muster?”
“You’re going to make him eat his tongue.”
“Hunter isn’t going to be there.”
“Sure he isn’t,” Carter said. “The front desk called. Your car is here, too.”
“Great. Thanks.”
We took the elevator down and parted ways in the lobby. Carter headed toward the parking garage while I aimed for the front door where a black BMW idled.
The trip across down was interminable. A mix of traffic and Saturday night partiers made for a longer than normal travel time. By the time I got to the event, a second speaker was making a plea for donations.
I spotted Bethany in the section of designer dogs who were abandoned by the Los Angeles elite when they weren’t fun anymore. She was sitting cross-legged in a Nicole Miller dress with a half litter of puppies on her lap.
At least those pictures on Instagram wouldn’t require me to do any cleanup.
I made small talk with acquaintances and fielded questions from a few of the reporters I knew. Three of my clients had been former ambassadors for Love & Paws so I was pretty familiar with them.
I ended up sitting with a few friends for a long time. Too long, it turned out.
My wine went down the wrong way when I heard Hunter’s voice. Crap.
Michelle whomped me on the back. “Are you all right?”
“Wrong pipe,” I managed to say through my tears.
Hunter stood at the podium. His broad shoulders seemed supersized under his suit jacket. He wore a crisp white shirt and a tie that consisted of a huge, lolling dog’s tongue.
“Thanks for having me. When Love & Paws opened their doors in Los Angeles, I was one of the first in line to adopt a dog. It was one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. Lola came on the road with me and saw the world. Love & Paws also helped me when the time came for me to lay my girl to rest. They’re one of the only rescues that takes care to actually put the right dog or cat with the right owner. They aren’t just looking to unload unwanted pets, they’re trying to find fur-ever homes for people that need it. Please dig deep into your pockets. Keeping their doors open is very important to me, but most of all, it’s important to those animals who need homes. And I’d love to see all of you in San Fran tomorrow at the annual adoption. I’ll be there looking for a new fur-baby.”
Yeah.
I was officially shutting off my ovaries. They were having a field day jumping around and causing havoc. Didn’t they get the memo that he was bad for me?
And from the look in the room, there were a hell of a lot of women having the same problem.
I tried to get up from my table before he came down the aisle, but there was no way he could miss me. Especially when my traitorous friend Michelle leaped in his path.
“Your speech was amazing.”
Hunter smiled. “All true.” His eyes flicked over to me, then away with a curt smile. He covered Michelle’s hand on his arm. “Have you adopted?”
Michelle beamed up at him. “I have two cats. Siamese.” She fumbled her phone out of her purse. “Lucy and Desi.” She blushed. “I spent a summer watching I Love Lucy while I was recuperating from ACL surgery.”
Hunter smiled indulgently. “I’m sure they helped keep you company.”
“Oh, they did. They love to talk.” She cleared her throat. “Anyway. Um, this was really great of you. I’m still small time, but this is the one charity I make sure to give to for sure.”
Hunter’s gaze drifted to me before bouncing back to Michelle. “Any little bit helps.”
Michelle chattered on with him and I wanted to crawl under the table and disappear. When I tried to move away, Michelle grasped my wrist like a damn lifeline.
Hunter was sweet with her—never made her feel like she was boring him. In fact, he coerced her into telling him more stories about Lucy’s antics.
I was pretty much praying for death.
And if she squealed, “so cute!” one more time I was going to put her in the puppy room and leave her there.
A statuesque blonde broke Michelle’s concentration. She slipped her arm through Hunter’s. “There you are. I was beginning to think you got lost.”
Hunter’s gaze crashed into mine. “Michelle, Kennedy.” He stumbled over my name momentarily before going with my formal name. Funny how that could be a complete arrow to the chest.
“This is Corey Thorne.”
Of course it was. She needed about as much introduction as Hunter did these days. Corey played a queen on one of the epic historical shows on HBO.
She was elegant and beyond beautiful. Suddenly I felt very frumpy in my red and black peek-a-boo lace dress.
“Pleased to meet you.”
Even her voice was elegant. Don’t be nice. I don’t want you to be nice.
She patted his hand. “I had to come and support Hunter. If it wasn’t for him, I’d never have my girl, Biscuit.”
“That’s Hunter, generous to a fault,” I said.
His gray eyes flashed. “What can I say, I’m a giver.” His gaze tripped over the black miniskirt and corset I wore under the lace. But it was just a half
a second, then it was gone. The after-burn left my skin flayed open.
Everywhere he’d touched, everywhere he’d tasted, was too sensitive, too exposed.
I muttered an excuse about someone I’d just spotted that I needed to talk to. All in all, I thought I did well. I held my head up, blindly stumbling through the crowd until I reached the bathroom.
I hoped my smile looked normal and not like I was a Botox patient gone wrong. When I reached the powder room, I collapsed onto the bench seat and wished for a baby flask for my purse.
It shouldn’t have been that hard to see him. We’d had one night together and a disaster of a day after. I knew I wasn’t exactly one-night-stand material but this was ridiculous.
The worst part was the look on his face at the police station. I couldn’t get it out of my head. And tonight he was just blank. Except for that one second.
I smoothed my hair as best I could and splashed cool water on my wrists then sent a request for a pickup. I just needed to hold on long enough to get through my goodbyes and wait for another car.
I headed into the ballroom and waited my turn with the president of Love & Paws by the chocolate display. A trio of pit bulls were brought out to show what good therapy dogs they could be.
Hunter crouched down with one, then his face split wide into a grin as the brindle pit pushed him back onto his butt. “Man down!” He laughed and my abused ovaries went through another cycle of destruction.
The other two dogs saw their chance to attack. The fawn-colored one rolled into the other like a bowling ball and they clipped the dessert table.
Which I, of course, was standing next to.
Because this was my life.
Hunter tried to grab the brindle but she shot under the table, her nails scrabbling over the marble floor, mule-kicking the back support. Glasses tinkled across the floor, the plastic bottoms scattering like monster truck tires at a derby. The table slid forward and I became the centerpiece for a chocolate fountain.
There was bedlam, laughter, and a few screams as the dogs careened through the crowd.
A pair of strong arms lifted me off the floor. Chocolate dripped from my ears, down my neck, and over the front of my dress. It slithered through the holes in the lace until I felt as slick as a pig at a fair.
“I got ya.” Hunter jostled me tighter to his chest.
“Oh my God, are you all right?” Corey asked.
Of course, she was perfect. Her ivory column of a dress was spotless. I was going to be finding chocolate with Q-tips for a week. I pushed at Hunter’s chest. “I—your suit. Oh, God.”
“Don’t worry about that.” He pushed a lock of dripping hair out of my face. “Anything broken?”
“Just my love of chocolate and my pride.”
Corey laughed. “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you.”
“Oh, I would be.” My voice was way too high.
Hunter carried me over to the head table and set me gently into a chair.
“Miss. Oh, my goodness. I don’t even know what to say.” A waitress came over with a roll of paper towels and an apron.
“Little late for that,” I said with a laugh. I felt the hysteria building. I tried to tamp it down, but it effervesced like the champagne display scattered over the floor.
She tried to dab me with the paper towels but there was no way to blot this level of chocolate.
“Just put me out back and hose me down. It’d be easier.” I hiccupped out a laugh.
Hunter’s lips twitched. “Let me get you home.”
“I called for a car.” I brushed my nose with the back of my hand. Even that was streaked with chocolate.
“I’m not sure the service would let you in.”
“I tip well, dammit.” There were so many people surrounding me. I felt the hiccups coming faster.
Hunter tucked my hair out of my face. “Okay, everyone. Let’s just give her a second, all right? Back up. Just look at me, sweetheart.”
I hated to ask, but embarrassment at this level negated pride. My eyes burned. “Can you just get me out of here?”
He handed me my purse and scooped me up again. “Let’s get out of here.”
Twenty-One
Hunter
She covered her eyes as we got to the doorway. Luckily I was pretty sure she didn’t notice the cameras that had been working overtime during the accident, but there was no denying them outside.
I tucked her closer to my chest. “Just a few more minutes. The valet went to get my car.”
She nodded and sniffled.
I wasn’t sure what to do with a helpless Kenny. Not what I was used to in the least. She kept rubbing at her nose and wouldn’t look up. God help me if she was actually crying.
A waiter sprinted out to the lobby with a tablecloth. “This might help get her home.”
“Perfect. Thanks, man.”
The lanky kid nodded. “Sure thing.”
I rushed through the turnstile front door when I heard my Mustang.
“How do you even fit in there?” she asked with a watery laugh.
“For a ’71 Mustang, I bend.”
“I’ll get chocolate everywhere.”
I set her down, opened the door, then snapped out the tablecloth. “See?” I settled it over the leather seat. “Perfect. Go on and get in, Kenny.”
She looked up at me. “So, I’m Kenny again?”
I sighed. “You’re always going to be Kenny. Now, get in the car before you harden like a chocolate bunny.”
“There’s chocolate in places I don’t even want to think about.”
“Then let’s get you home and cleaned up.”
She nodded and ducked her head to sit on the bucket seat. She twisted to get her legs in. Even streaked with chocolate, they were amazing.
Before I could shut the door, she looked up at me. “What about Corey?”
“She’ll find her way home.”
“Isn’t she your date?”
Corey was amazing, and I was pretty sure she was trying to get me to fix her up with Patrick, but Kenny didn’t need to know that. “She understands. We came in separate cars, too.”
“Oh.”
“Can I close the door now?”
She dropped her hands on her lap. “Yes.”
“All aboard the chocolate express,” I said and closed the door.
When I came around, she’d scrunched down in the seat. “Put your seatbelt on, Kenny.”
“Chocolate.” As if that meant anything.
“Seatbelt.”
She sighed and reached over her shoulder. She tucked the tablecloth around her shoulders.
I sighed and reached over to snap it into place. “That’s what a detailing place is for.”
I pulled out into traffic, then down Wilshire Boulevard. “Where am I headed?”
For the next twenty minutes, there was no conversation save for directions. Kenny seemed to be withdrawing into herself the closer we got to her house.
Finally, I pulled around the figure-eight cul-de-sac development that she called home. Her house was small and Spanish-styled with a clay roof.
I pulled into her driveway. She unlatched her belt, but wouldn’t look at me as she opened her door. “Thanks.”
I got out after her. “That’s it?”
She tipped her chin up to meet my gaze. “I appreciate you taking me home.” Dusk had come and gone and the night sky was flush with stars. A security light broke up the darkness, and she had the tablecloth draped over her shoulders like a cape.
I clenched my fists.
“What do you want me to say, Hunter? You were the one who was all about us giving things a try then you went after one of your best friends in a jealous rage over your ex-fiancée.”
I frowned. “It wasn’t jealousy.”
“Oh, really? What else would you call it?”
“Vic is off limits at all our functions, but your little request to add that girl brought her there.”
“Can’t deal wit
h your ex?”
“I hate her. She creates drama and problems wherever she is. What the hell was she doing with that Bethany chick?”
She used her cloth-covered hand to stab at my chest. “She was targeted by Victoria. She’s stupid and vain, and doesn’t think. So when a famous model wants to hang with her and shop with her all day, what else would she do?”
“How the hell did Vic even know about her?”
“I don’t know. Bethany shares her entire life, including all her drinks, on her Instagram. It doesn’t take much of a leap. She was so excited about going to your release party that she hashtagged every word that had to do with the band.”
I raked my fingers through my hair. It seemed pretty convoluted, but anything was possible with Vic.
She sighed. “Bethany told me—in babbling detail, mind you—all about her day went with Victoria Sheer. I’d stake my 401K that she wrapped that girl around her finger to get to that party. Tell me, Hunter, what the hell does she want with you?”
“What everyone wants.”
“As impressive as your cock is, it’s not the only thing women want.”
“No. Well, yes that, too, but they want what I can do for them. It’s what Vic has always wanted. I’m not that blind idiot anymore. I’m sick of everyone looking at me like I’m the golden egg of opportunity. You, my label, my manager, even the band. That’s all they see.”
She shook her head. “That’s never what you’ve been to me.”
“Oh, really? Is that why you asked for your client to go to our release party? That you didn’t want anything from me?”
She pulled her tablecloth tighter around her shoulders. “Not on purpose. It was just…” She trailed off. “I’m sorry, Hunter. It’s just business. I’m built to do this. Favors and tit for tat is how this city runs.”
“Yeah, well, I’m tired of it. I don’t want to be looking for angles and how to get ahead all the time. I just wanted to spend time with you.”
She sat down on her step. “I wanted that, too.”
“How would I know that? You’re always working.”
“Pot and kettle, pal.”