Just as those thoughts go dancing through my head, not unlike the bears in tutus Vivian and Nate were arguing about, I see a flash of red out of the corner of my eye. My date has arrived.
She spots our trio and instantly gives a cheery wave, her walk not exactly elegant, making her stand out in the best way possible. Cris is always Cris. Whether wearing Chuck Taylors and ripped jeans or in a smoking-hot dress I cannot believe she nearly returned. She’s so gorgeous my heart stops before kicking into gear again and hammering my ribs. Trying to school my expression in front of my brother is a challenge I lose.
The second Cris is close enough to touch, I wrap my arm around her waist and take in every inch of her from tip to toe. Her freckles are out but so subtle no one would notice unless they were standing close. Her blond hair is pulled back like Vivian’s but unlike Vivian’s, unruly ringlets curl at her temples. Wide gray eyes take me in, dark lashes and subtle eye makeup making them appear almost chrome in color. And her mouth. God, her mouth.
Glossy red lipstick I want to kiss off and damn the consequences…and our company.
That’s just the view above the neck. Below gets even better. The dress is cherry red. There are sparkles and straps. It’s formfitting in the most complimentary way. It’s short, but tasteful. Before I can arrange any of those observations into a halfway appropriate compliment, Vivian speaks for me.
“Cris, your dress is exquisite!” She steps between us and touches the delicate material between finger and thumb. “You are absolutely ravishing. What a perfect choice. Is there a special occasion I should know about?”
Vivian sends me an evil-sweet look only she can pull off, Nate smirks, and Cris bats mascaraed eyelashes like a cherub with a pitchfork.
I slide a derisive glare to Nate. “Does Archer know?”
Nate’s eyes go over my shoulder and he grins. “Ask him yourself. What’s up, Arch?”
“Do I know about what?”
“Benji and the life coach,” Nate says, as easy as you please.
Now let’s get one thing straight, I don’t care what my brothers say about me and Cris. But I do care what Cris thinks about her reputation where they are concerned. I don’t need them dabbling outside her comfort zone, especially with what we have planned tonight. Luckily, Archer doesn’t let me down.
“How you doing, Cris? Tell me you haven’t taken to shacking up with this idiot.” He flicks his gaze at me, and his lips twitch in what might be an attempt at a smile. He’s one stoic son of a bitch.
“Men,” Vivian huffs, rolling her eyes. “Cris and I will be at the bar refreshing our champagne.”
Vivian’s glass of champagne is full but Cris could use one.
“See you.” Cris waves at us collectively, but her red-lipped smile is just for me.
“I could use another scotch,” I murmur to my brothers as the ladies walk away.
“I bet.” Nate laughs. “You two.”
“It’s about damn time,” Archer says.
If they had any idea what it was “about time” for Cris to do, they’d be shocked down to their shiny shoes.
Chapter Sixteen
Cris
At the bar, Vivian accepts a flute of champagne from the bartender and puts it in my hand. Her eyes are wild when she says, “Okay, what is going on with this dress and Benji drooling all over himself?”
I smooth one hand along the bodice of the dress I nearly returned. I’m glad I didn’t. It’s a stunner, and I wouldn’t dare wear it anywhere else. But, as Benji reminded me, tonight is special, and not because of the fundraiser.
“The dress I packed was drab. By the time I saw this one in the window I figured, why not?” I smile at my friend. She’s studying me like an algebra equation where x equals “Cris is lying through her recently whitened teeth.”
“Things have progressed between you and the smiley Owen, haven’t they? He’s bringing you dinner. You’re ignoring my calls.”
“I’m not ignoring you,” I bleat. But I sort of am. I don’t know what to make of what’s happening in my own head. How can I explain it to someone else?
“You’d better give me deets,” she hisses, sounding a little scary.
“This is hardly the place for details the likes of which I have to share.” I raise my eyebrows meaningfully as I take a sip of my champagne. This delights my friend, who is back to grinning like a madwoman. Excited by her excitement, I whisper, “Tonight’s the night.”
“You’re finally going to let him work his magic. You might combust when he kisses you. You two have been flirting around touching each other for so long.”
“We’ve already…” I take a furtive glance around the room. Benji and Nate and Archer are standing in a suited-man circle, each looking like different cuts of the finest beef on the menu. I turn back to Vivian. “We’ve already done some stuff.”
“What stuff?” She leans in.
“Sexy stuff,” I say, almost defensively. “Just not it.”
“Oh. Oh! You mean tonight is the night you cross a certain act off your bucket list.” Her face melts and then she coos, “And with Benji.”
“Shh!” I warn.
“I want to tell everyone. But I won’t. I didn’t tell Nate. Do you know how difficult it is not to tell him things?”
I wouldn’t mind if she did. I trust Nate. But it’s sweet she didn’t rat me out.
“It’s none of my business anyway,” she lies.
“Liar,” I remind her.
“I know. I made it my business, and I’m not sorry either. It’s the best news ever.”
“It’s risky. This is my job we’re talking about. And he’s my best friend.” Could I have made the stakes any higher? And yet, I can’t blame myself for wanting to indulge.
“It’s past time for you to take a risk. Nate and I balance the friend and sex and work thing. You can do it too.”
Happily changing the subject, I ask her about working at Grand Marin. She shares how she’s learning the ins and outs of property management and quickly segues into how she wants to build her own shopping center or live-work. “If I can find a decent location, which is key. I’m finally starting to feel like my old self.” She pauses. “Actually, that’s not true. I don’t feel like my old self. I feel better than my old self. Confident. Certain. I have no idea how things will go, but I know I can handle what’s on the other side.”
I’m happy for her, and at the same time slightly envious. I want to feel certain. “Of course you can, Vivian. You’re the strongest woman I know.”
“Thanks, hon.” She spares me a smile. “It’s a small matter of naming what I want and going after it. Back when I worked for my father, I was hustling and racing around trying to make every hoop jumpable. And setting most of them on fire in the process. Self-sabotage is totally a thing.” She touches my arm. “Don’t sabotage what you and Benji have. You two are good together. You’re about to make it better.”
I smile and nod, not sharing my worries about the future. Living in the present moment is really freaking hard sometimes.
“Are you nervous?”
I have to think about her question for a second.
“You know, I don’t think I am. We’ve eased into this by doing a host of other things.” I think back to the shower and taking him into my mouth and blush. “I imagine he’ll be as great at sex as he is everything else.”
My eyes flit across the room to study his lean, fit build in a streamlined, expensive dark suit. His hair is styled to perfection, his smile infectious.
“I’ll hand it to you, Benji’s a good choice. He draws people in. He’s instantly likable. Charming to the nth degree.”
“Prince Charming,” comes another female voice over my shoulder.
I turn to find a stunning woman standing in our midst. She’s wearing black pants with a barely-there gray pinstripe design and a white button-down shirt open at the collar. A haphazardly knotted loose black tie hangs from the neck of the shirt. Her hand is bedecked in platin
um rings, her fingernails painted black. She’s very tall, with a pair of high-heeled shoes helping her out in the height department.
She sips brown liquid, scotch or whiskey, from a rocks glass. When she lowers it, the ice clinks against the side. “I don’t suppose Archer Owen shares his brother’s disposition?”
Vivian bursts out laughing but sobers quickly, like she remembered the other woman is an interloper. She blinks back to her serious self. “I’m sorry, can we help you with something?”
Her response sounds rude to me. I resist flinching. The woman doesn’t so much as bat an eyelash. “Talia Richards.”
Vivian shakes Talia’s hand and introduces herself. I do the same.
“I’m opening a spa soon, and I’m interested in attracting celebrity clientele. I heard the Owens were in town. I’ve also heard of Archer’s ability to draw such attention. I apologize for the interruption, but I recognized you from across the room. You’re Nathaniel’s fiancée.”
“You’ve done your research.” Vivian’s narrowed eyes hint she’s suspicious of Talia’s motives, but Viv’s tone is almost impressed. “Have you contacted Owen Headquarters?”
“Not my style.” Talia shakes her head, sending her long, chestnut-colored hair swirling around her. “I find I make a better impact in person.”
I bet. She’s gorgeous, sharp, strong-willed. But her take-charge attitude can’t mask the tenderness emanating off her. She’s intriguing. I won’t forget her when she walks away, and if she does talk to Archer, neither will he.
“Would you like me to introduce you?” Vivian offers, proving my theory—she’s impressed. “It’s a bit selfish on my part, I admit. I sort of want to watch him react to you.”
Talia grins, her green eyes crinkling prettily at the corners. I sort of want to watch too. Her wide mouth and layered dark hair are definitely Archer’s style. It’s rare, but I’ve seen him with women over the years. Unlike Benji, he has a type. Talia is it.
“So, he’s not like his happier brother or your genial fiancé?”
“Nate has his moments, but no, Archer’s not going to be as cooperative, I’m afraid,” Vivian answers.
“We’ll see,” Talia murmurs, shooting a glance across the room at where Archer and his brothers are standing.
“We really don’t mind making the introduction. He might be more receptive,” I tell her, meaning it. Archer’s not an asshole, but he can be intimidating to people who don’t know him.
“Also not my style.” Talia’s smile is friendly before she looks over her shoulder at Archer once again. Like he feels her gaze, he turns his head, notices us, and then does a double take at the woman standing with us. After a lingering glance I know Talia doesn’t miss, he turns back to his brothers, pretending as if he didn’t react.
“That,” I tell Talia, “is his style. Good luck.”
“I’ll approach him after dinner. Lions are grouchier before they eat. Lovely to meet you both. Cris, Vivian.”
She walks away and joins a woman and a man on the other side of the room.
“I’ve never been one for voyeurism but I really wanted to watch.” Vivian finishes her champagne.
“Same,” I agree, and then finish mine as well.
Cocktail hour drags on, which was surely determined ahead of time. The more the guests drink, the more money they’ll donate to the cause. I don’t expect dinner to be satiating. These events tend to serve tiny portions on tinier plates. It’s all about bite-sized hors d’oeuvres, not a filling dinner. Someone’s going to give a speech later—probably several someones—and carb-loading guests will guarantee at least a few of them nod off.
The mingling continues, and Vivian and I have been working the room. Like me, mingling comes as naturally to her as breathing. I just wrapped up a conversation with a statesman when I detect the scent of delicate, expensive perfume. I half expect to find Talia, thinking she’s changed her mind about an introduction to Archer. When I turn around, I regret the smile I pasted on my face. It was too genuine for the likes of Marla Hearst.
“What an absolutely beautiful dress.” Her cartoon-villain smile prevents the compliment from sounding sincere. “I take back what I said about the color red. You’re gorgeous wearing it. Especially with your pale blond hair. I wish I could pull off my natural hair color. These platinum and caramel streaks come with a hefty price tag.” Her laugh is less evil now, almost desperate.
Maybe that’s why I don’t care for her. Beneath her shallow surface, she has no confidence in herself. When I ran into her earlier, my own confidence flagged, but with good reason. She was very clearly putting me in my place. A woman of her stature and wealth should hold herself like… Well, she should hold herself more like Vivian. Or Talia. Talia, I liked immediately. Marla, I disliked from the first time I met her. Admittedly, that could have had to do with her flirting with Benji. Later, she asked me to set up a drink for them at a cozy bar so they could “talk.” I wasn’t thrilled at the idea of her seducing him. Even now, the memory sours my stomach.
Her dark eyes sparkle as her gaze wanders over my shoulder. “Benji! There you are. I have been looking everywhere for you. Where have you been hiding?”
She’s plastered against his side so fast I have to move out of the way to keep her from stepping on my toes. He catches her slim waist beneath one palm as she lays a kiss on his cheek. If he hadn’t turned his head, she could’ve easily placed that kiss on his lips. I feel my blood boil at the same time I remind myself there’s no reason to be jealous. Especially when he sets her at arm’s length and greets her professionally.
“Marla. How have you been?”
“Better now that I’m looking at you.” She smooths one eyebrow with her left ring finger. Her bare ring finger, making it obvious she’s unattached. “Actually, I was looking for you. I thought we could bail on this whole affair and go somewhere more private.”
I blink. Forget Cinderella with her arms full of her stepsisters’ mending, I feel more like I’m sitting in a pile of stringy pumpkin innards.
She turns and smiles a very stepsister-like smile. “Could you be a doll and find a quiet corner for Benji and me?” To him she says, “I noticed you didn’t bring a date. It’s like we both knew.”
Oh no she didn’t. I’m fairly sure my face is turning the same color as my dress. Even my ears are hot. I’m not sure where to start, but telling her to go to hell crosses my mind. I tried to compartmentalize. This is too much.
Before I can speak, or explode, Benji wraps his arm around my waist. Unlike with Marla, his palm slides around my hip and he tucks me against him.
“My quiet time is spoken for. I have a date tonight. You’re looking at her. It should have been obvious I’d be with the most beautiful woman in the room.”
I’m not sure which of us you could knock over with a feather but judging by Marla’s expression, and a strange effervescent sensation in my chest, maybe both of us.
“Oh.” Her smile twists into something less lecherous but more sinister. “I had no idea you were seeing each other.”
“It’s an honest mistake. We’re finding our way, aren’t we, Firecracker?” He hugs me close, and the nickname has me taking my finger off the red button. Marla shall live to see another sunrise.
“We are,” I tell him, soaking in the warm intent lurking in his eyes.
“That’s… How great for you. Both.” Marla sounds a bit breathless. I know I shouldn’t delight in shocking her but, well… Is a little delighting too much to ask for? “You two have fun tonight. The dress ended up being lovely.”
By the time she walks away, I feel the weight of Benji’s gaze on the side of my head. It’s not hard to guess what he’s thinking.
“What did she mean by ‘ended up’?” he asks and then answers himself correctly. “You bumped into her earlier.”
“In the elevator before I met you at our suite door.”
He nods slowly, maybe coming to the correct conclusion that she was the reason I consid
ered returning the dress in the first place. Or maybe not coming to any conclusion at all.
“Let’s take our seats and find out what bizarre, minuscule exotic foods we’ll be served tonight.” Arm snuggly at my waist, he leads me across the room to a table teeming with Owens. Lainey and William, Nate and Vivian (she’s not an Owen yet, but close enough), and Archer, whose attention is on the other side of the room. As I take my seat, I casually look over my shoulder and notice that, surprise, surprise, he’s checking out a certain long-haired woman wearing a loosely knotted tie.
Talia flips her hair and doesn’t look over, but I can tell she knows he’s looking.
Chapter Seventeen
Benji
You know how when you’re excited about an upcoming event you can’t concentrate on anything else? Like Christmas, or those great seats behind home plate?
Tonight’s like that. Multiplied by a thousand.
At this point, I’ve surmised the fundraiser might never end. I’m regretting coming to it. Or at the very least, regretting making tonight the night I divest Cris of her virginity. Why didn’t I pick an evening during which we had control of the timeline?
Super fail.
While I’m tempted to blow off the remainder of this tedious event, a sense of duty keeps my feet rooted to the floor. Dad and Mom are here, and my brothers. There was a photo op earlier, by the way. We posed together in front of a backdrop with the Heart-to-Teen logo printed on it while camera flashes blinded us. Cris watched from behind the photographer, unvarnished pride gleaming in her eyes. She’s the best.
I’m still pissed off at Marla. She had no right to slither over and claim me, which is a nice way of saying she behaved like a presumptuous bitch. Has she always been that way and I’ve been blind to it? My gut answers with a stern yes and I know I only have myself to blame. In the past I’ve rewarded those sorts of antics. What can I say? When my dick is running the show, I make bad decisions.
Charmed by the Billionaire Page 12