Текст книги "The Gideon Affair"

Автор книги: Suzanne Halliday

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

Putting a little bit of distance between them, he went to stand by the arched door. Standing at her knees had been too much for him. Looking down and seeing her at eye level with his crotch was a no. This seemed much safer.

“There’ll be no contracts between us, babe,” he snickered with a mocking roll of his eyes. “But I do have a surprise,” he teased. “One I hope you like.”

Her head snapped up, and he chuckled when he saw the interest twinkling in her eyes. A surprise? Paige was a sucker for surprises.

“Oh god, what surprise?” She shot to her feet. “I’m kind of on max overload from this Chinese water torture surprise-a-thon.”

He snorted. “Good one.” Shrugging off the comment, he drawled, “This is a Banning surprise. Gideon has nothing to do with it.”

Her arms crossed as one foot snuck behind the other and started to wag. He was on thin ice.

“We’ve got a nice long break coming up before heading to Montana. Didn’t you say Caro was going on a cruise during her downtime?”

She nodded. “Booze cruise with a bunch of her pals. Long, lazy Mexican Riviera package with every imaginable extra. That girl’s the queen of upgrades.”

“So, with her off the leash and everything here in limbo …” Having to clear his throat reminded Edward that he wasn’t acting and had no idea where this scene was going. “Anyway, I thought it would be fun to take a road trip. You and me.”

She was looking at him as if he’d grown a second head. “What kind of road trip? Jack Kerouac? Clark Griswold? Dorothy and Toto?”

“Nah,” he quipped with a sly wink. “We’re writing our own story.” He enjoyed watching her process what he was saying. “And I have something epic in mind.”

“I’m listening.”

Thank god for geography class, he thought as a map of the States appeared in his mind. “Well, I thought we’d fly into Denver. I remember you talking about that new hotel … the one with all the art, right?” He had her now. Page’s eyes were dancing with delight. Bet she thought he didn’t pay attention when she was rambling.

“We could take a couple of touristy scenic excursions. Colorado River rafting sounds like fun. Whatever you want.”

“Fun,” she murmured, the skepticism obvious in her voice.

“Yeah. And then we’ll rent a small RV and take off from there. Colorado to Wyoming before ending in Montana.”

“What?” She came at him so fast that he didn’t remember seeing her move. “Did you say Wyoming?” When she grabbed his forearms and dug in, he knew she was on board. Bingo. Bull’s-eye. Touchdown. Score.

“That I did. Think how awesome it’d be to pull up to the cabin, hang with the ‘rents. Soak up the ambiance.”

“Oh, my god. Stephen and Miriam? For real?” She dashed to her bag and fished out her Breathsavers. Paige was on a roll; he recognized the signs.

Popping a mint into her mouth, she flew around the room as if he’d lit a firecracker at her feet. “Fantastic! Oooh, I have to get your mom some of that yarn she wanted. And Stephen needs another of those Snoopy coffee mugs we found down on the boulevard. I better make a list …”

Edward watched, bemused, as she went into practical Paige mode. Suddenly, there were lists to make and things to do. All from an off-the-cuff suggestion. There was a masterful high-five dance of success playing in his mind.

Now for the reality check. She’d had her throw down, and now it was his turn. “So can I assume you’re on board with this?” His tone stopped her dead.

“Ooookay, what’s the catch, Banning?”

“We go as a couple.”

“But your parents,” she stuttered.

“Deserve the truth,” he finished. “They’re gonna see the social media stuff. Your parents, too. I want to be honest with our families. Yes, people will go apeshit that Gideon Shaw is settling down, but there’s to be none of that in our real lives.”

She was gearing up for a response when he cut her off. “No, babe. Nuh-uh.” He shook his head. “No bullshit. You’re kind of in love with me, and I’m more than kind of in love with you.”

Her mouth made a sound when it snapped shut. Maybe he shouldn’t have pressed his advantage, but he did. It was the shoes. Definitely the shoes. They were making him nucking futz.

Pulling her close, he claimed her mouth and went deep without any buildup. His hands roamed as he mapped her back and waist through the slinky fabric of the dress and then used both hands to grasp her bottom and lift her into the perfect position. Swirling tongues created a rhythm that he mirrored in the touch of his hands, massaging and squeezing.

Unf. The desire was near to overwhelming. When he couldn’t take anymore and stay standing, he gentled the kiss until their mouths reluctantly separated. Putting his lips close to her ear, he husked, "I’ll take care of you, Paige. That’s a promise. You can trust me to put what’s best for you first.”

In a voice he’d never heard before, she murmured, “If I end up regretting this, Edward … it’ll kill me.”

For some reason, that was just what he’d wanted to hear.

Getting from WeHo to Malibu took a dog’s age in the never-ending traffic. Paige was surprised when Edward said they were going to Nobu and not any of the conspicuous see-and-be-seen eateries in town, which would have been easier to get to.

She was flabbergasted because the guy hated sushi. HATED. Surf and Turf, yeah. Steamer pot on the beach? He’d be all in. But sushi? That was a big fat NO.

They chatted about nothing on the drive. She pulled out her mental soapbox and went off on a political rant. He bitched about some sports scandal, and they debated a thousand ways to magically make the traffic better.

Creeping along Pacific Coast Highway, he put the blinker on right before the driveway to the restaurant and turned to her. “You ready?”

They’d been out to dinner together countless times but never like this. Paige knew how these situations worked. Someone, who she suspected was Carolyn, would tip off the celebrity paparazzi that Gideon Shaw and a lady friend would be at Nobu. A spotter was keeping an eye on the comings and goings at the well-known waterfront restaurant in downtown Malibu.

The first sighting when they arrived would set up what came after. By the time they had exited the place, a dozen photogs would be hovering and it’d be showtime. Within hours, pictures of the two of them would appear on social media sites.

Well, crap on a stale cracker. Edward was right. She’d have to call home and give her family the heads-up before they saw anything. Her mom loved attention, but she would so not enjoy being blindsided and made an ignorant fool.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she muttered tersely. Unsteady fingers checked out her hair and fiddled with an earring. Taking a deep, slow breath, she willed the square dancers in her belly to settle the hell down.

Before the car had completely stopped, the valet was running to the driver’s side door while his counterpart stepped up to Paige’s door. Her whole world was going to change the minute she got out of the car.

“Paige.” She looked at Edward and found him frowning at her. Could he read her thoughts? “It’s just you and me, okay?”

“I know.” She shrugged. With a self-conscious smile, she told him, “Just keep reminding me, and I’ll be fine.”

She was relieved when his dour frown turned cheeky. “To borrow on a Mom-ism,” he drawled with a dramatic clearing of his throat, “thread the needle, don’t jam it in your finger.”

Her door was opening, and so was his, ending the amusing moment. Feeling the need to rub his nose in their situation, she mockingly chirped, “Come on, Mr. Sexiest Man, get a move on. I have a date with some seaweed.”

Still smiling when her feet hit the pavement, Paige pulled it together at the side of the valet stand, trying not to smirk openly as she watched the ballet of groveling going on about the man and his car.

Do not sigh. Do not roll your eyes. Do not, I repeat, Do NOT lead with a snarky comment. A bullet list of How-to-Behave-in-Public was all she could recite to herself. Good grief, this celebrity thing was going to be hard.

“Oh gurl, you’re working those shoes. Ankle straps and an L-B-D. Nicely done.”

She turned at the comment and found the valet beaming at her with approval.

Looking down at the shoes, she twisted one foot this way and that, flashing the uniformed attendant a cheeky grin.

“They really do insist on themselves, don’t they?”

They laughed together before the guy murmured approvingly, “Honey, you’re gonna do just fine.”

Next thing she knew, Edward was right on top of them, and his expression was not friendly. Arrogantly moving between Paige and the restaurant staff, he put an arm around her waist and all but crushed her to his side.

Dammit. What the hell was wrong with him? Biting back a frustrated groan was like torture. Plus, she couldn’t even pry his damn fingers off because it was all she could do to keep the fucking bag on her arm from dragging on the ground.

“Let’s get you inside before …” He didn’t finish, which left her to fill in the blank with wildly differing possibilities.

Let’s get you inside before …

The zombies attacked.

It started to rain.

I punched this guy out.

I tongue fucked you … oh, shit. No, no, no, no, no. Delete, delete, delete.

“Edwa … I mean, Gideon. Slow down, for heaven’s sake.”

He stopped on a dime before reaching the entrance. “What?” There was confused and then there was befuddled. The man was completely befuddled. “Oh. Sorry, babe,” he muttered. The once-over he gave her was all sorts of cute. "It’s just…” He shrugged. “I don’t know.” She watched as he looked back at the valet stand with a dark, troubled frown on his face.

Ohhhhh. Now she got it, and it took an entire bottom lip chomp to stop from laughing her ass off. Was he … what? Jealous? Possessive? Out of his ever-loving mind for thinking a twenty-something twig in sneakers and khaki shorts was even in the running? Oh, lord. Epic.

“Mr. Shaw,” she gurgled with barely suppressed laughter. “Your gaydar sucks.”

“My what?”

Paige leaned in close so no one else could hear. “Sweetie, he’s gay, so stop scowling at him before he thinks you want some hot, angry butt time.”

Edward’s eyes darted to the valet stand. “How can he be gay? He was all over you like a rash.”

She laughed and tugged on his tie. “Oh, my god! Really? The guy was gushing over my shoes. Get it?” she joked. “My shoes.”

Next, his eyes went to her feet with an expression on his face that cracked her up. Men were so thick at times.

“You, on the other hand,” she drawled, “have barely noticed this command performance get-up Shirls and Moira forced on me.”

He reacted to the mild censure with a mocking sneer. “Instant rewind to being under me on the sofa. Babe, for real. This dress and those bang-me-standing-up shoes almost shot our dinner date in the damn foot.”

Well, he certainly had a way with words.

“All right, Shaw. Feed me immediately if you want that standing up fornication jibe to pass without comment.”

Stepping through the door of the fantastic restaurant, Paige immediately drank in the ambiance, noticing every detail with a keen eye that saw past the surface.

After a bit of fawning that got her jaw grinding, they made their way through the crowd and were seated on the edge of the patio with nothing between them and the ocean but air and sand. She was mildly surprised when her date sat next to her on the cushioned loveseat instead of across the table. It was going to take her a little bit to adjust to the change in their relationship. Edward was making it abundantly clear that, in his mind at least, they were a couple.

Edward let Gideon off the leash for the sake of what they were doing but didn’t allow the atmosphere to drift into the business side of things. If she hadn’t understood before that this was an honest-to-god date, she did now.

Everything about their meal was top notch and fantastic. Knowing her companion hated sushi wasn’t uncomfortable at all. In fact, she used his kvetching to her advantage, making a huge deal out of every bite and nibble just to drive him nuts. It was fun as shit too, watching him pick apart a baby artichoke salad after nearly throwing up at the mere mention of squid pasta.

When his bloody rib eye steak arrived, she eyed him with mocking disdain and shook her head. “Only you would order steak, and a bloody one at that, in seafood heaven.”

His arched eyebrow made the waiter laugh when he replied, “The steak is on the menu, my dear, for all the poor guys who have to sit through this fishy bullshit because of a woman.”

“Oh, my god, and then she took an entire tray of steaming hot biscuits that were as light and fluffy as bricks and flung it across the room. One of ‘em flew off the baking sheet and hit the celebrity chef in the middle of his forehead. I haven’t looked at biscuits the same way ever since.”

How was it possible that he was having the best time he’d ever had on a date—while in a restaurant he loathed and out where everyone could watch? And with a woman who gave zero fucks about his celebrity status and happily dominated the conversation?

This must be what contentment feels like.

Relaxing against the low back of the sea-weathered rattan, his body angled in her direction, Edward listened to Paige prattle on. They already had a close relationship, which was what made this date a singular event. There was no first-date awkwardness. He wasn’t sizing her up for dessert … well, okay maybe he was. But not in a wham-bam way.

With all that weirdness out of the picture, he was free to enjoy the sound of her voice and get lost in sharing her un-self-conscious exuberance. His Paige was one of a kind. He was a lucky bastard.

She’d been going on for the last ten minutes, regaling him with humorous tales of her college exploits, when he’d paused to consider all she’d shared. Since their business association had always been about his career, Paige’s aspirations had taken a backseat. Had he benefitted from her impressive talents and wide range of skills? Hell, yeah. A sobering thought. Had she given up on her dreams to help him reach his? The notion did not sit well with him. Not one damn bit.

“What’s your professional take on this place?” His question came out of left field, but he was genuinely interested in her opinion.

Resting an arm on the sofa back, she fiddled with an earring, crossed her legs, and casually glanced around. It was no hardship to wait while she made her assessment because, from his vantage point, a stunning summer sunset and the blue Pacific framed her beautifully.

What would she look like at his beach house … wearing nothing but something decadent from Victoria’s Secret and standing in front of the wide windows on just such a gorgeous night?

“You’re more beautiful than the ocean at sunset.”

Her eyes shot to his.

Oh, shit … so he had said that out loud. He shrugged. No use pretending that wasn’t exactly how he felt.

The brief flash of a smile tugged at her mouth.

“So, my professional take on this place up till now is neutral.”

Edward relaxed, relieved she was going to let his blurted comment slide. This out-in-public thing was hard on both of them. Being on middle ground, where his alter ego was the main player, was probably not the time to express his desires.

“First, it was obvious you aren’t a regular here by the behavior of the parking attendant and front end staff. Having Gideon Shaw in their midst was unexpected.”

Hmph. She was good. “How could you tell?”

She was blushing. Good lord! Paige Turner was blushing. Tugging the hem of her dress down, unnecessarily in his opinion, she made a cute moue with her mouth and snorted. “The hostess all but whipped off her panties and stuffed ‘em in your suit pocket.”

Had she? He hadn’t noticed. Not when the lady by his side was earning the appreciative gaze of every man in her vicinity. Shit, to be honest, that hostess could have stripped naked, jumped up on the bar, and sang “It’s Raining Men,” and he wouldn’t have blinked.

“Then, the waiter had to ask for your drink order. If you were in any way a regular, he’d have known your preferences and been prepared with some waitery-shtick. He also wouldn’t have had to explain the chef’s special in such specific detail.”

She sat back and looked at him with comic triumph. “Plus, you gave poor Chase a heart attack when you turned green while he gushed about the squid pasta.” She chuckled, reaching for her drink, and smiled mischievously. “I think he was worried you were going to hurl on his shoes.”

Edward shared her laughter, murmuring, “I’m sorry, but the words ‘squid’ and ‘pasta’ should never be used in the same sentence.”

“It’s not what you think,” she teased. “Your reaction was hilarious, but I get what you’re saying.” Her mocking smile made it hard not to kiss the smirk off her pretty face.

A soft, warm ocean breeze swept across the patio. The occasional gusts made more and more tendrils of her hair escape confinement. As if he’d been doing it for a thousand years, he reached for the wayward curls and feathered them softly behind her ear. The act felt so natural and easy. He liked this new aspect of being with Paige. The touching. Yep. He liked it very much.

“I see why it’s such a trendy restaurant. They’ve covered all the bases starting with a fantastic menu.” She wiggled on the loveseat and turned toward the ocean. “And seriously …” Her voice lowered with a conspiratorial inflection. “This view. I mean … come on. When nature is the lead designer, well …” Her swift shrug was so damn cute.

He remembered her saying something similar when they were viewing the Wyoming property for his folks. Somehow, the gods saw it fit to bless him with an outdoor girl who took stopping to smell the roses to an eleven. Or maybe even a twelve.

When she turned back, Paige leaned close and ducked her head briefly then met his gaze with a bashful, hesitant grin. “Thanks for bringing me here. I know how much you love sushi …”

Goddamn, she was charming as shit. Keeping things light and humorous was working well, so he cut off her little speech with a provocative comeback.

“Yeah, well,” he wagged his eyebrows and growled, “I figured watching you eat slimy raw fish was a surefire way to douse the flames. Make sure you get safely home without being defiled along the way.”

He shuddered with mock dramatic emphasis and ground out a gag-worthy, “Blech.”

Paige’s gurgling laugh was music to his ears so when her hand shot out and smacked him hard on the chest, he was startled and raised his hands to ward off her attack.

“Asshole.” She snickered, smacking him again as he tried in vain to fend her off.

“Don’t make me haul you over my knee, young lady,” he barked.

Before he knew it, they were playing handsies on the beach patio of Nobu where everyone could see their antics. She’d try to whack him, and he’d smack her hands away and laugh. They were putting on quite a show.

“Hey, wait a minute.” In the blink of an eye, she went from playful to Nancy Drew. “What’ve you got stashed in your coat pocket?”

Leaping on him, she had the advantage of surprise until he realized what was happening. Stopping her questing fingers from slipping inside his coat until she zeroed in on the pocket, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her close.

Thinking they were still kidding around, she struggled against the restraint and nudged him with her body. If he were to lean back any further, she’d be lying on top of him. This was getting out of hand. Moving the wrist he held behind her back, he grabbed the hand still roaming his chest and pressed her fingers till they stilled.

“Enough,” he growled. “This isn’t the place … or the time.”

She immediately stopped moving. Hell. She might even have stopped breathing. He wasn’t sure. They stared at each other in silence for a long time. Sweat broke out at his hairline as he watched her face. She was biting and wetting her lips, her eyes glittering. Just as he began to speak, she interrupted.

“I was serious about the water torture. Cut it out, Ed … er, uh, Gideon. There’s no time like the present, so either put up or shut up.”

What the hell was he up to? Not having a clear picture of the situation was worrisome and threw her off. She’d just been kidding about whatever he had stashed in his pocket, but his swift reaction stunned her into silence.

Was he wired? The assumption, though ridiculous, matched his unusual response and showed her how far her imagination was willing to go. Did not help any that he was restraining her or that people were watching. And snickering.

Shit.

“I have to visit the ladies’ room,” she announced out of the blue. It was the only thing she could think of that would quickly get them both sitting up again.

Edward reacted as any guy would, practically jumping up as he glanced around looking for the restrooms. Nodding to the back corner, he muttered, “I think it’s over there.”

Embarrassed, although not sure why, Paige pulled it together and finally stood up, pushing the short black dress into some sort of order.

He wasn’t looking at her, and she didn’t miss the way his hand slid to the inner pocket she’d been trying to investigate.

The silence was awkward—just what they didn’t need.

“Look, I’m sorry if I was overstepping.” She was babbling and couldn’t help the terse head shake and eye roll that followed her lame apology. The put up or shut up comment might have been a road too far. “I’ll behave.”

She didn’t know why she said that—it was so unlike her. But aware of the many curious eyes observing them, she was reminded that they were there for a reason and that they were playing parts.

Edward surprised her by wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her against his warm body.

“Like hell you will, Paige Turner. I don’t want you to behave, and you weren’t overstepping, babe. Just caught me by surprise, that’s all.”

Her eyes darted around the patio. The way he was holding her left little to the imagination as far as the nature of their relationship was concerned.

“And we’re not putting on a show.” He said it like the notion was an insult.

She sighed and patted his chest. When he put a finger under her chin and lifted her face, it was a struggle not to get lost in his startling blue-eyed gaze.

“Hey,” he murmured. “This is your reminder that it’s just you and me, sweetheart. Remember?”

She did. Hearing him call her sweetheart, though, completely wiped her brain of coherent thought. All the looky-loos watching them so closely might be getting an eyeful of super-sexy Gideon Shaw, but she’d just experienced a new side to Edward Banning.

Damn. She liked being his sweetheart. Nobody had ever called her that before.

Gently releasing her, he teased, “And don’t go making up lists of ground rules. That’d be like working from a script.””

She looked at him shocked. Was he reading her mind because she’d just thought that maybe they should have come up with some guidelines before jumping into the breach unprepared.

He pushed her in the direction of the ladies’ room. “You go freshen up, and I’ll have coffee and dessert at the table when you get back.”

Dessert? She could do dessert. “See if there’s ice cream. Vanilla is fine.”

His knowing smirk was all kinds of cute. Oh, my god, really? He’d even noticed her recent descent into ice-cream purgatory? Oy.

It seemed like overkill to haul the enormous bag for a trip to the ladies’ when she didn’t carry anything in it, so she left it and set off to find the bathroom. Almost the second she stepped away from their table, a waiter appeared with some helpful directions to get her moving in the right direction.

Her mind overflowing with thoughts of Edward and her, Paige ambled along in her usual loose-limbed way. When her eyes caught a couple who were balls-out pointing at her as they huddled together talking, she winced.

She was on display. She hated being on display. Instantly transforming herself, Paige slowed her walk, squared her shoulders, and rocked along on her undeniably sexy shoes. Considering what she was getting into, it occurred to her that she had better get used to the scrutiny.

With dozens of eyes on her judging and gossiping, she headed straight for the privacy of the restroom, hoping with each step that she didn’t wobble or fall flat on her face.

“Thank god,” she murmured once she was alone in the bathroom. Giving her reflection half a glance in a large mirror, Paige opted for one of the water closets in the corner and closed herself in the stall.

She really did need to pee and quickly relieved her poor bladder. They’d been drinking Sapporo nonstop since they sat down, and while Edward had slowed down because he was driving, she’d been having a high old time. There was nothing like a cold beer and some melt-in-your-mouth sushi. Complemented the wasabi and ginger flavors. Her favorite.

Maybe it was her buzz or maybe it was the interference of that pesky librarian part of her personality … she couldn’t be sure, but she was certain that she wanted this show and tell part of the evening to be over so they could go back to being who they really were.

And then she intended to jump his bones.

Whoooa. What? Jump his bones? “Oh, my god,” she groaned quietly, her head shaking in denial. She wasn’t sure if that was the alcohol or her libido talking.

The door whooshed open and shut, and right away, voices filled the room. Damn. Other people. Paige didn’t want to stumble out and put up with anyone gawking at her, so she stayed put, perched sideways on the closed toilet, and waited them out.

“I swear if he calls me his baby girl one more time, I’m going to throat punch him. Honestly.”

Hmph. “Make sure you get paid first and remember, any number followed by four zeroes is going to come along with an ass-load of stupid comments. Ignore it, blow him in the limo, fuck him in the pool, he signs the check, and you’re out … baby girl.”

Oh, my god. Was this really happening? Paige couldn’t believe what she was overhearing. From the sound of it, the two women were veterans of the pay-for-pussy squad. Just … great.

“Shut up, Vanessa. I can’t believe I have to put out for that old jerk. I get that he’s Hollywood royalty and all, but what the fuck with the obnoxious laugh. And to think, we used to love his movies. Ugh.”

“Oh, boo-fucking-hoo. One week with Mr. Hollywood and your rent and car payments for a whole fucking year are paid. Stop your whining.”

Paige heard the sound of running water then what sounded like someone dumping an entire purse on the table. Having heard quite enough, she wished they’d hurry up and be gone before anyone gave any actual names.

“Well,” the complaining stranger cooed in a completely different tone than the harsh one she’d been using, “it’s not that I mind. Not really. I mean the guy has a barrel of boner pills and has been quite the old-school gentleman, making sure I get off, too. But …”

More running water and a few hushed giggles.

“I’d much rather have that gorgeous hunk of Gideon Shaw man meat handing me a check. Did you see him, Chloe? Holy Christ that man is hot.”

Laughter rang out.

“Yeah, I saw him. Are you kidding? The guy reeks of testosterone.”

Paige froze. Gideon Shaw man meat? Testosterone? Her heart started to beat harder. Sudden warmth rushed into her head, and she swore the walls and floor wobbled.

A heavy, cloying scent invaded her senses, and she clapped a hand loosely over her mouth and nose to block the disgusting smell. Really? Who used that much perfume? Argh. Blech.

The mumbling from the two women made Paige strain to hear what they were saying. Then they started talking louder, and goddammit, what an earful she got.

“But what the hell with that stick figure he brought out? I’d like to bitch-punt that little nobody and show Mr. Big Stuff a very good time.”

The two tittered while Paige’s teeth ground.

“Do you know who she is? Never seen that one before. I’d remember some itty-bitty tittie cardboard cutout in the mix, and she def isn’t a model. Not with that walk. Jeez,” the woman snickered, “first time in heels?”

Paige silently gasped, outraged. Itty-bitty titties? What a fucking bitch. There was nothing wrong with her boobage. Just because she hadn’t installed made-to-order lady lumps did not mean she was lacking. Some people, like her—like things natural. Real. That overused twat went too far, she fumed, ready to leap from the water closet and smack whoever was leading the insult barrage.

"Well," the other sniffed to highlight her response, “whoever she is, he’s making a damn fool of himself, right? I mean, the suit’s a nice touch, but this is Malibu, for Christ’s sake. He looks like he’s meeting with a bank’s loan officer—hardly date wear.”

“Maybe she’s his accountant.” Their snorts of mocking amusement showed what they thought of the bean counters who managed the cash flow.

“It’s a shame that grade A prime meat stick has to go slumming for ass. Miss Prissy Pants doesn’t look like she could handle what Gideon Shaw is packing.”

“Oooh, baby girl … Shaw Me the Way.”

As raucous laughter filled the space, Paige cringed in private. Feeling like a quickly deflated balloon, she slumped and fought for composure. Any other time she would have laughed off their catty comments. Wouldn’t she? What was different about tonight? Was it because she was playing the part of Gideon’s date or because she was out with her best friend. A best friend with whom she was unexpectedly involved?

Wounded, she was tempted to give the two strangers a piece of her feminist-swayed mind. The only thing stopping her was Paige’s deep disdain for public scenes. She loathed all the table-flipping, drink-throwing, foul-mouthed antics that dominated every news cycle. Anything for attention was not how she rolled.

Several long minutes later, she was finally on her way back to their table. Walking a straight line with blinders on, she was determined not to let the inquisitive stares and whispered commentary from complete strangers get into her head.

Edward rose the second she stepped into view, his happy smile immediately replaced by a questioning frown. By the time she'd stomped to her seat, his frown was a cross scowl.