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"A bet?" I asked.

"Your bet. The one where I prove I can make this mixer profitable." She straightened her shoulders. "I need that money to start over properly. A new life doesn't come cheap."

Right. Our wager about her ability to turn tonight into a success. My mind had focused so much on what just happened to her that I had almost forgotten.

"Think you can pull it together after all this?"

"Watch me." She headed toward the door, then paused. "Actually, help me. I need to make sure everyone's settled and the evening gets back on track. Think you can manage basic host duties without scaring anyone?"

"I'll try to dial down my natural intimidation factor,” I drawled.

"Your natural what now?" She shot back, raising one eyebrow. "You mean your tendency to lurk in corners looking like you're planning someone's demise?"

"I don't lurk,” I protested.

"You absolutely lurk,” she said. “It's very brooding and mysterious, which probably works on most people, but tonight I need to be charming and approachable."

I huffed. "I can be charming."

"Can you though? Because twenty minutes ago you shattered every piece of glass in a fifty-foot radius."

Her arms crossed her chest.

"That was an outlier,” I bit out.

"Was it?” She questioned. “Because your client's photos suggest otherwise." She was warming herself again now, using our banter like armor. "Half of them look like mugshots."

I grinned, settling into the role easily. "Those are artistic choices."

She snorted, opening the door. "That is why your success rate is terrible. Come on, Mr. Artistic Choices. Time to prove you can help instead of hinder."

I sighed, as if suffering.

"What exactly do you need me to do?"

Her grin was predatory. "Smile. Make small talk. Pretend you're not mentally cataloguing everyone's weaknesses."

Pretending to inspect my nails, I shot her a look. "I don't do that."

"You literally told me Mrs. Henderson's marriage was doomed within five minutes of meeting her,” she countered.

"It is,” I insisted. “Her husband's already cheating."

"See? That's what we're not doing tonight." She fixed her hair in Diana's hallway mirror. "Tonight we're being optimistic about love. I need you to be Lust."

Sounded suspiciously easily.

"Even after everything that just happened?" I asked.

She met my eyes in the reflection.

"Especially after everything that just happened. Because if I let him ruin this too, he wins. And I refuse to let that bastard take anything else from me."

One thought burned clear as we headed back to the garden: I would make sure she never had to start over with nothing again. Whatever it took.

And if Xavier ever came near her again, I'd show him exactly what happened when someone threatened what was mine.

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