Текст книги "If You Dare"

Автор книги: Jessica Lemmon

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 12 страниц)

Chapter Eighteen

Lily stared out the passenger side window, chewing on her bottom lip. Marcus could see she was nervous—if not by the lip-chewing thing, then in the stiffness of her posture. And he could feel it to, in the clamminess dampening their linked hands.

He pulled his sports car into a parking space outside the convention center, killed the engine, and turned his head. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be nervous.”

She jumped slightly, like he’d startled her, her delicate throat moving as she swallowed. Other than her apparent nerves, she looked drop-dead gorgeous in a clingy emerald green dress (short, as per his request) and high, high shoes. When she’d opened her front door, he’d forgotten how to speak for a moment. His eyes had coasted along her beautiful, pale breasts, bursting out of the deep V formed by the wraparound dress. Truth told, those breasts were still distracting him, and if that wasn’t enough, he had the no-panty thing to contend with.

“What are you wearing under that dress?”

“Nothing but a new bikini wax,” she purred.

God help him.

But their playful banter had died halfway to the conference center, and she’d fallen silent for the remainder of the drive.

“You okay?” Out of habit, his eyes dipped down to her cleavage before meeting her gaze.

“Sure. Of course.” A nod of her head, then, “Are you?” She let go of his hand to straighten his bow tie.

The annual dinner was formal, and no joke. Industry brass would be there—people from big name firms, other designers, owners, and high-paying customers. Hell, Reginald London’s firm was presenting Marcus with his award tonight.

“I’ll be better once I’m off that stage,” he told her, meaning it. He may have pulled a win out of his back pocket when he’d practiced with her in his bedroom, but his mind had been firmly on winning her nude dancing.

“You’ll be great.” Her smile was not genuine, and he didn’t like when she wasn’t blunt with him.

“Dammit, Lily.” He unbuckled and got of the car, walking around to her side. By the time he reached her door, she was climbing out. “What’s the problem?”

“Excuse me.” She sent a furtive look to the left then to the right.

“Who the hell are you looking for?” he asked, raising his arms in exasperation.

“No one. I just… Now that we’re here, I think tonight is the wrong time to go public.”

“Why?” He was done letting her off the hook.

“Because you have to concentrate on your speech.”

“Lame.”

“And I’d like the attention to be on you, not on us as a couple.”

“Lily.” He stepped close to her and she backed away, leaning against his freshly washed car. “We’re not celebrities. I doubt anyone will notice beyond our circle of friends. I’m not planning on some massive PDA, I just don’t want to have to think about holding your hand or not holding your hand, or eating off your plate if I want a bite of your dinner.”

“I’m not sharing my dinner.”

He ignored her attempt to distract him. “I mean it. I’m not going in there and putting on a show. We go in, arm in arm, and to hell with anyone who might have a problem with it.” He palmed her jaw and leaned in.

She turned her head.

He dropped his arm and straightened. “Are you kidding me?”

“You bring a different girl here every year.” Now she was angry, her eyebrows down, her voice raised slightly.

“Who cares? I’m here with you this year, McIntire.”

A car pulled into the lot, its headlights cutting across the darkness, and her next words were quiet. “I care, Marcus. People talk. And the last thing I need are rumors bouncing around that I’m sleeping with the designer of the year to further my career.”

“That’s stupid.” Who would give a shit if they were sleeping together? He was missing something. Some big piece of the puzzle wasn’t sliding into place.

“Not my rules,” she said.

“So, what? You want to go in separate? Leave separate? Care to synchronize our watches or have a signal? I can pick you up a block away if you like.”

“Thanks for taking me seriously.”

He took a deep breath, pulling in a lot of patience and little oxygen, and then blew out a gusty sigh. They weren’t going to resolve this in the few minutes before they walked in, clearly. And he didn’t need the stress of Lily pissed at him when he had to remember not to faint on stage.

“Fine,” he said, leaning against the car next to her, arms folded. “You first. I’ll give you a few minutes.”

“Thank you.” To his complete dissatisfaction, she held her head high as she clipped inside and didn’t spare him a single glance.

There was more going on here than she was saying. She wasn’t confiding in him, and that pissed him off as much as it concerned him.

…

“There you are!” Joanie. Smiling, happy, lovely Joanie. Lily’s best friend swished over to her. She was draped in a stunning blue, floor-length gown. Clive, looking dapper in a black tuxedo, followed behind his wife, two glasses of champagne in his hands. Joanie hugged Lily briefly, then peered over her shoulder as she pulled away. “Where’s Marcus?”

“Marcus?”

“Yeah, guy you work with,” Clive said blandly. “My best friend.” He handed over a flute to Joanie and offered Lily the other.

She accepted, and filled the awkward space between the question and her lame answer by taking a sip. “Not my turn to watch him, ha-ha.”

Her eyes swept the room in search of Emmett. Before, when she’d agreed to let Marcus drive her to the dinner, she’d been able to brush off the fact that Emmett would be here, and that he’d see her on Marcus’s arm. She’d liked the idea of it, actually. Then, tonight, as she pinned her hair up and spritzed perfume over her classy but revealing cocktail dress, she played another possible scenario in her head. Emmett seeing her with Marcus and telling Reginald London that Cameron Designs as a firm was wholly unsuited for the task of designing their superstore. And after Reginald had witnessed Marcus and Lily leaving the Camerons’ house together…what would he think? Of course, while she was having her little panic attack, she also considered the possibility that Reginald wouldn’t care at all. Joanie and Clive were married, and obviously sleeping together.

But the past still stung her like angry wasps—the memory of Emmett betraying her, the way his claim that she’d been dishonest had completely tanked her career. In that moment, in L&B’s office with Ira Becker, she’d been made to feel like a cheap hanger-on rather than the brilliant designer behind the work that had landed them a huge account.

And it was that memory, and Emmett’s dig of “more boobs than brains,” that made her chicken out.

“Miss? Your coat?” A man in a smart black suit held out his hands and Lily peeled her coat away, feeling exposed now that she was here. In reality, she was showing no more skin than anyone else, but the airy reminder of her lack of undergarments made her feel like she had a sign announcing that she wasn’t wearing anything under her dress.

“Oh, that dress!” Joanie exclaimed as the man took her coat. “You look absolutely gorgeous. Marcus will die.”

Lily blinked at her friend, stunned.

“Come on, Lil,” Clive said, plunging his hands into his pockets. “How much longer are you two gonna pretend not to be dating?”

“We know, sweetie,” Joanie said, when Lily didn’t respond. “Ever since the mansion you two have been behaving like horny teenagers.”

“Arguably,” Lily mumbled after swallowing another drink, “we’ve always behaved like teenagers with each other.”

“True.”

“So, it’s official, you and Marcus are doing it like rabbits,” Clive blurted.

“Crass!” Joanie slapped her husband in the arm. Then she wrapped that hand around his elbow and stood close to him. “How could you not tell us, though?” she asked Lily. “We’re your best friends.”

There was no way she could hide this for much longer anyway. “Emmett.”

Understanding dawned in Joanie’s eyes. “Oh. I forgot about him.”

If only Lily could do the same.

“Emmett Webster?” Clive asked, his brow dented. “I just met him. One of London’s guys. I think he’s the head of marketing or something.”

“Or something,” Lily muttered guiltily. “He’s the reason I left L&B.”

“Shit.” Clive’s jaw tightened. “He’s the asshole who—”

“Honey.” Joanie ran a soothing hand over Clive’s tuxedo sleeve. “Not the time. Or the place.”

“You don’t want Marcus to know,” Clive said, still looking unhappy.

“His speech,” Lily said. “He’s ready. He’s good. But I’m worried if he found out, he’d be murderous and then who knows…”

Clive gave her a slow nod. “Since I feel murderous, I think you may be right.”

“So, we’ll keep it to ourselves tonight. No biggie,” Joanie said.

“Don’t worry, Lil,” Clive said. “We won’t let that asshole rile you.”

His eyes went past Lily’s shoulder and she turned to see Marcus striding through the front doors. He looked so good tonight. So, so good. He wore a tux better than any man in the room. With those broad shoulders filling his jacket and his almost-black hair styled, his former stubble more a neatly trimmed beard… He’d grown it because she’d asked him to. Again, she wondered if he’d do just about anything for her.

Like come in here and pretend they weren’t dating.

“There you guys are,” Marcus said. His eyes briefly scanned down her dress and up again. “You scrub up nicely, McIntire.” It was almost the complete opposite of what he’d said in her doorway. When she’d opened her front door to find him standing on her step with a bouquet of roses, he’d given her a reverent sweep of his eyes, followed by, “Lily, my God. You’re a vision.” Followed by the quip about her undergarments. To which she played into his talented hands perfectly. She missed that joking, sharp version of them. This version felt dull and sterile by comparison.

“Thanks,” she said. “You look nice.”

His lips pressed together, clearly displeased to carry on like this.

Then the shithead hit the fan.

Emmett Webster approached from across the room. He wore an off-the-rack suit on his medium frame, and a salesman’s smile on his peach-fuzz face. She used to find him attractive. She still would, she supposed, if she hadn’t known about the lying, forked tongue hiding behind his pearly teeth. His sharp, dark-blue eyes sliced down her body and up again and she tried not to feel self-conscious.

“As I live and breathe,” he said.

She was aware of Marcus taking a step closer to her. She didn’t think he knew who Emmett was, but she could be wrong. Suddenly, she wished she hadn’t insisted on this charade. If Marcus knew Joanie and Clive knew about them, he’d have slipped an arm around Lily and she could have leaned into his strength… Then again, Emmett would probably have said something then there’d be a brawl in the center of the dinner.

She pictured Marcus punching Emmett out. It was not a bad picture. But definitely a bad idea. Marcus deserved the spotlight for his accomplishments.

“Reginald pointed you out.” Emmett smiled at Marcus, ignoring her now. He held out a hand and introduced himself. “Emmett Webster. I’ll be handing out your award tonight on behalf of Mr. London. I wanted to extend personal congratulations. As a former designer, I appreciate your work. It’ll be an honor, my friend.”

Marcus’s eyes were narrowed as he pumped the other man’s hand twice. He didn’t look as if he knew who Emmett was to Lily, or who he was at all, but she could tell by the bend of his eyebrows, Marcus didn’t buy her smarmy ex’s faux sentiments.

“Thanks,” Marcus said. His hand found her lower back and she stood straighter. “My coworker, Lily McIntire, and the owners of Cameron Designs, Clive and Joanie Cameron.”

“We’ve met,” Emmett said to Clive. “Joanie, is it?” He shook her hand next and Joanie speared him with a look of contempt. He held a hand out to Lily. “Lily of the Valley. We’ve met before, too.”

He would do that, wouldn’t he? Blurt out that stupid nickname in front of everyone.

One of Marcus’s eyebrows jumped, but other than that, he remained silent.

Their little reunion was interrupted by a voice crackling over the loudspeaker, asking everyone to take their seats.

“I’ll see you up there,” Emmett said to Marcus, and then he winked at Lily. “See you around.”

Once he’d gone, she felt Marcus’s dark gaze on her. “Lily of the Valley?”

“Um…inside joke. It’s stupid.” She clutched her champagne glass, watching Emmett go and wanting to tell Marcus everything. But now was not the time. “Tell you later.”

Marcus fell into step next to her as they made their way across the room to their assigned table. White tablecloths with turquoise linen napkins and black confetti decorated the table.

Cameron Designs was seated with another small firm at a table close to the stage, no doubt because Marcus needed to be near by when he stepped up there. At least London and Emmett weren’t seated at their table. She didn’t know if she could politely endure her ex for more than a few minutes.

Just a few hours and then she’d tell Marcus the truth. After the dinner, after his speech, preferably after they’d stripped each other out of their fancy clothes.

Once she was naked against him, she’d tell him everything. And he’d understand. She knew he would.

…

The roast chicken was bland and the green beans undercooked, but that wasn’t why Marcus didn’t eat much. Various members of the guild stepped up to the mic to speak, and he found himself imagining his turn. Imagining the hundreds of gazes locked on him… His stomach tossed like a rogue wave.

Clive and Joanie paid attention to the stage, and not to him and Lily. She sat to Marcus’s left, Joanie on her left, Clive on Joanie’s left. An older guy with a big gut and head full of graying hair sat to Marcus’s right. He was cheery enough, but every breath he took sounded like a wheeze. And he was sweating profusely. Their table was up front, but they were out of range of the hot lights overhead. Marcus sent him a strained smile and prayed the guy wasn’t about to have a heart attack.

After dinner and dessert, that was his cue. The introduction and presentation for designer of the year was next. Clearing his throat, he swept his napkin off his lap and dropped it next to the remainder of his cake.

Before he stood, Lily grasped his hand under the tablecloth. He stole a glance at Clive, who lifted an eyebrow before turning back to his cake. Joanie pecked something into her phone, paying them no mind.

“You’ve got this,” Lily whispered, squeezing his hand. Then she leaned close, her warm breath tickling his ear, and whispered, “If you get nervous, just hang onto these.” Then she turned her hand over in his and slipped something tiny and silky into his palm.

She pulled her hand away and picked up her fork, taking a bite of her chocolate cake while he tried to remember his speech…or his name. Everything blanked as he stuffed what he knew were Lily’s missing panties into his pants pocket.

“You’ll pay for that,” he said under his breath, as he stood.

“Counting on it.” She beamed up at him, and he could have kissed her. Would have, dammit, if not for them pretending they weren’t together. He guessed the panties would have to do. “Good luck,” she said brightly.

“Thanks, McIntire,” he said, standing and pushing his chair in. “Not sure if that’s helpful or not.” Clive and Joanie echoed her sentiment of “good luck” and he thanked them, too, and then strode up the stairs behind the stage.

He held his shoulders back, feeling a lot like he did when he was in Little League—up to bat and sicker than a dog at the possibility of striking out.

But tonight, he wouldn’t strike out. Hand in his pocket, he fingered the silky gift and eyed Lily, who was leaning over and saying something to Joanie.

He had this. He fucking had it.

His smile faded when he met Emmett Webster waiting in the wings. The guy just rubbed Marcus the wrong way. There was something untrustworthy about him. And he didn’t like how he’d addressed Lily. The nickname seemed less an inside joke and more an insult.

“Ten minutes, they tell me,” Emmett said, when Marcus made it over to where he was standing. “I’m going to say a few words about Reginald London Superstores, mention very briefly the grand opening date of the new store, then I’ll introduce you as the man in charge who single-handedly got the win.”

Emmett slapped Marcus’s arm in what he guessed was supposed to be camaraderie.

“Cameron Designs as a team designed London’s superstore,” Marcus corrected. “Might want to downplay the single-handedly part.”

“Yeah,” Emmett agreed, but didn’t sound agreeable, “but both you and I know the battle is won by the leader. And you are clearly the leader between you and Lily of the Valley.”

Marcus’s eyes narrowed. “Where did you two meet, again?”

“Oh, I used to be the lead designer at Lawson and Becker.”

Marcus’s blood pressure skyrocketed. Seriously, he could feel his blood boiling.

“Then you know how talented Lily is,” Marcus said. “How well she can handle a presentation. She landed that account in the boardroom. The drawings were secondary.”

“Oh, I know how well the woman can use her mouth, if you—” Emmett’s words cut off with a choking sound—it was hard to speak with Marcus’s hand wrapped around his throat.

Emmett’s hands flew up and Marcus eased his grip, lowering his face and delivering a very clear threat. “How many of those teeth do you want to keep?”

The music started, Emmett’s cue. Fuck. The timing was terrible. Half of him wanted to knock Emmett out and glide onto stage and introduce himself. Sending a bloody-nosed Emmett rolling down the back staircase would make Marcus feel a hell of a lot better…but he had more than himself to think about. Lily. Joanie and Clive.

He let go. Emmett began straightening his tie. “I’m guessing you two have a thing.”

“None of your business what we have.”

“Just a warning, man to man…”

Marcus loomed over him and Emmett backed into the curtain, ruffling it. The music swelled. “Get out there. Before I change my mind and hit you anyway.”

Emmett straightened his jacket and nodded.

And Marcus closed his eyes and tried to reclaim his cool, and remember the words from his speech.

Chapter Nineteen

“When are you telling him?” Joanie asked after Marcus disappeared behind the stage.

“After.” Lily smiled over at her friend. “I just wanted to send him up on that stage with nothing on his mind except for his speech.” And the fact that he had her panties in his pocket. The other night when he practiced in front of her, he’d been confident and sure of himself. She wanted to give him a physical reminder that after his speech, she’d be naked and waiting for him. It helped, she guessed, since he’d walked behind the stage at a full strut.

The music continued for a few measured beats too long, and Lily began to worry…until Emmett stepped onto stage, lifting a hand to wave at the crowd. The jerk.

His introduction was brief, and sounded sincere enough. He held out an arm to introduce Marcus and Lily had to swipe her palms on her napkin when Marcus appeared, looking handsome and sexy, and just a smidge nervous.

“Come on, Black,” she said to herself. He’s got this. He’s totally got this.

Marcus stepped on stage, confidence in his dark eyes, and waved one masculine hand at the audience. As he did, she took a look around the room to see the admiring smiles of his peers.

“I was going to start my speech with a Donald Duck joke, but my esteemed colleague, and partner at Cameron Design, Ms. Lily McIntire, suggested I don’t lose the confidence of my audience right off the bat.”

Everyone laughed. Right on point. He winked at her and continued smoothly. Damn. He did have this. He flowed from sentence to sentence with barely a pause, speaking clearly, making eye contact every so often. The slight waver in his voice at the start of the speech was gone after the audience laughed at his opening line. He was charming, grateful, and had definitely earned his place in the spotlight.

And in her heart, she realized in a flash.

Something about watching him from afar made her see him clearly. Made her not want to keep him far, or keep them a secret any longer. Made her want him on a permanent basis. Made her realize that while Emmett was her past… Marcus was her future. She loved everything about him.

He wrapped up his speech, earning a standing ovation to which Clive added a series of loud whistles. Marcus cradled the coveted crystal award in both hands, and Lily couldn’t feel anything but pride that he’d been honored tonight.

“I’m gonna run to the ladies’ room,” Lily told Joanie, feeling overcome with emotion. She made it into the ladies’ room and out before there was much of a line, then instead of going back to the table right away, walked across the room to the balcony overlooking the lawn.

The warm air of the conference room fell off her as the crisp autumn air abraded her skin and made goose bumps stand out on her arms. She took in the stars twinkling in the dark sky, welcoming the chill. The moon was full, lighting the grounds and making the stars seem pale by comparison.

From the balcony, she could see down the hill to the rest of Fantom, streetlights and headlights as cars crisscrossed the intersecting roads. She couldn’t see Willow Mansion from here, but imagined she could. It was there, somewhere beyond the highway, and inside she pictured her discarded air mattress, Coleman lantern, and the heater, all sitting in the living room with who– or whatever had frightened her and Marcus out of the house.

Marcus, who’d rigged a speaker with a voice, she thought, shaking her head. The cheater. But still there was plenty they couldn’t explain—them tumbling into bed together at the top of the list. She never would have slept with him otherwise, so in a way, she had Willow Mansion and that crazy dare to thank for finding the man who made her start thinking of her future again instead of flailing in the present.

Tonight, she’d tell him that. Tell him about Emmett. And then they could celebrate. With champagne and sex and plans for Hawaii. She turned on her heel to go back inside, a smile on her face and Marcus in her heart.

…

Marcus stood and talked business with Reginald for a few minutes after his speech. As fun as it would have been to introduce Emmett Webster to his fist, Marcus grudgingly admitted to himself that he’d made the right decision. Reginald had turned his attention elsewhere, so Marcus headed for the bar. He needed a drink like his next breath.

During his chat with London, Marcus had put in a suggestion that Cameron Designs draw up a layout for the other superstore to open next fall. He knew the building London was refurbishing in Cincinnati. Marcus let Reginald know that he and Lily would personally head up the project to ensure it matched the current design of his first Ohio store. London was impressed, and with that groundwork laid, Marcus’s gut told him Cameron Designs would be doing more for London in the future.

“Hey! There’s our guy!” Joanie exclaimed, turning from the bar, wine in hand. Clive was there, too, with a glass of his own. She leaned in and said not that quietly, “We know about you and Lily. And we approve.” Then she put a hand to her chest and blew out a breath. “God. That secret was killing me.”

Marcus frowned. “You know?”

“We know,” Clive said. “Now go find her so she can tell you. She didn’t want to blow your big speech. Nice work, by the way.”

“Thanks.” But Marcus’s mind was hooked on the fact that Lily was concerned about getting him through the speech. But her nerves over his speech wasn’t all she was hiding from him tonight. The Camerons spotted someone else they knew and moved to the side, and Marcus stepped up to the stocked bar, debating on whisky, wine, or beer.

“You and Lily of the Valley. I don’t envy you, Black,” said a voice from behind him.

He turned to find Emmett drinking a beer from a glass, his eyes focused across the room where Lily had just come inside from the balcony. She locked eyes with Marcus, smiled, and then realized who he was talking to, and her steps faltered.

“She really is sleeping her way through the industry, isn’t she?” Emmett said.

“Did I not make myself clear backstage?” Marcus asked, leaning in closer to the asshole running down his girl.

“What are you going to do, punch me out in front of every one of your peers?”

“Maybe.”

“Marcus.” Lily’s soft voice tore his attention away from Emmett, and he found her beside him, looking a little nervous and a whole lot beautiful. He looped an arm around her, but she pulled away slightly. Which pissed him right off.

Emmett raised his beer. “Like I said, I don’t envy you. When she’s hot, she’s hot, but when she’s cold—”

Before he thought about doing it, Marcus drew his elbow back and socked Emmett in the face. “No one talks about my girl like that.”

He stumbled back, spilling his beer, the glass shattering on the floor. The crowd let loose a collective gasp.

Shit.

He lowered a hand to help the bastard up, but Emmett, with the help of Reginald London, was already struggling to stand.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Marcus! What did you do?” Lily was halfway to Emmett, and seeing her on her way to tend to him was enough to make him see red.

“I don’t think so, McIntire.” He pulled her to him, gripping her upper arms and tugging her close. “You’re with me.” Overcome by adrenaline and just plain want, Marcus slammed his lips over hers.

He let her arms go, wrapping his own arm around her lower back and pulling her close, as a different gasp came from the crowd. Lily curled her hands into the lapels of his tuxedo jacket, moaning softly against his lips.

That. Was more fucking like it.

The kiss ended and he heard a whistle or two—probably Clive, the ass—and a few golf claps. Emmett stood off to the side, covered in beer, but not bleeding, just looking like he had swallowed a frog he couldn’t quite hack up.

“What the hell!” Lily’s two small hands landed squarely in the center of Marcus’s chest and shoved.

He felt his head shake side to side.

“You couldn’t wait until we left?”

He took in the room full of well-dressed industry leaders, and Emmett’s dishevelment, and told her the truth. “No. I couldn’t.”

She blinked, aghast. “You promised.”

“No. I never promised. And if you think I’m going to stand by while that dickhead talks about you like that, you’re dead wrong.”

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me,” she said, her voice wobbling.

That hit him like a fist. No. Like a glove filled with bricks. All he heard was “I don’t need you.”

“I can’t believe you’d do this to me.” Her eyes filled with tears.

“I did that for you.” He leaned closer. “What about what you’re doing to me?” he asked between his clenched teeth.

She put one shaking hand to her forehead. “I…I need to get home.”

“No. I’ll go. Let you do some damage control.” He practically spat the words. “One last dare, Lily.” She froze, her eyes growing wide. “I’ll be at the mansion if you need me. If you don’t show, well. I guess you lose.”

And so would he. But there was only one way to find out if she was willing to walk away from her ex and face her fears—especially those she had involving him. And that was to go back to the site where his lips had first met hers. Where they were raw and honest and couldn’t hide how they felt.

Without looking back, he walked for the exit, passing Clive and earning a pat on the shoulder that said his best friend would back him up even though Marcus had just punched London’s new right-hand guy in the jaw.

And then he left—left Lily behind to make her decision. Either she would stay and try to smooth everything over, or she would finally trust him and follow where he was leading.

It was her call.

He was done being the needy one.

…

What. Had just. Happened?

Lily pulled her hand from her forehead, blinking at the staff cleaning broken glass and beer from the parquet flooring. Emmett was toweling off his suit and shoes, pausing every so often to glare over at her.

And Marcus was…gone.

She could either follow him and tell him all the things she’d decided on the balcony…or stay here and try to explain herself to London before Emmett started spinning his web of lies.

And what could she say? Marcus had kissed her in front of everyone. And it wasn’t a peck. Wasn’t a friendly, we’re casually dating smooch. It was a kiss. A we-burn-the-sheets-up-when-we’re-together lip-lock that left no doubt that they were horizontally mamboing with the best of them.

So now to decide if she cared what everyone thought of her…

Did she?

“Ms. McIntire.”

She jolted at Reginald London’s surly voice over her shoulder. When she turned, she met his craggy face and unsmiling mouth. His stone-gray eyes tracked to Emmett, who scurried to his side.

“Sir,” Emmett started, lifting a finger to point to where Marcus just vanished.

“I’ll deal with you later, Webster,” Reginald grumbled.

Lily jerked her eyes from her ex to the older man, who offered her a smile that actually reached his eyes. “Lily McIntire. Go get your man,” he said with a wink.

Emmett’s face was a priceless mix of worry and shock punctuated by a reddening welt from Marcus’s fist.

Joanie appeared with Clive as Lily took a step away from the forming crowd. “Sorry. I may have pulled Reginald to the side and spilled the beans.”

Lily grasped her friend and pulled her into a hug. “I’ve never been happier that you can’t keep a secret.”

“You heard London,” Joanie said, holding Lily at arm’s length. “Go get your man.”

She started for the exit then turned back. “I don’t have a car!”

Clive slapped his keys into her hand. “We’ll get a cab. Do what you need to do.”

“Clive…”

“We’ve got your back, Lil. Always.”

With a watery and grateful smile, Lily ran for the parking lot so she could drive to the one place she swore she’d never return.

…

She wasn’t coming. He knew it.

Fuck, he knew it in his gut. The more he turned over her expression, and the expressions of everyone in that room, Marcus knew there was no way Lily would leave the dinner without doing damage control.

And he’d let his pride ride shotgun and publicly humiliated the woman he loved. And for what? The satisfaction of punching out the dick who had caused her so much pain in the past. It was immature. Childish. Selfish.