Page 99 of Manhattan State of Mind

“Do you come to these events often?” I ask, desperate to ignore the unnerving sensation of eyes boring into us from all corners.

“Only if unavoidable,” he responds smoothly, conjuring up two glittering glasses of champagne. “No escaping it tonight, I’m afraid. Do you want something else non-alcoholic?”

“This is fine.” I accept the flute. “What’s the cause for tonight’s event?”

His demeanor shifts, a shadow flitting across his handsome features. “Bowel cancer. I provide substantial donations, but I tend to steer clear of the events.”

I blink, thrown. “That’s… that’s what my dad died of.”

“I know.” He tightens his grip on my hand, a quiet show of support.

My mind spins. Did I actually tell JP how Dad died?

Seeing my confusion, JP frowns. “Lucy? Did I screw up?”

I plaster a smile on my face. “No! Not at all. It’s nice to attend something like this. So what’s my role here then?”

“You’re here so I don’t have to talk to anyone else.”

“Like a bodyguard? You’re a big guy, I don’t believe you require any rescuing. You seem perfectly capable of handling yourself.”

His playful smirk returns. “Even big guys could use a little saving from time to time.”

His words, though light-hearted, carry a weight that sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through me.

Suddenly jittery, I fiddle with my necklace and swallow a mouthful of champagne, my eyes flitting around the room. I wish everyone would stop eyeballing us. The women are feasting their eyes on JP like he’s the main course and I’m just a side dish they can’t place. I wish I’d worn a sign: Not His Date, Just Staff!

Sensing my discomfort, JP’s hand settles on my hip, drawing me closer. His body radiates warmth, and his breath tickles my ear. “Hey, relax.”

“Sorry, it’s just… This isn’t my comfort zone,” I confess, trying to swallow down my nerves. “I’ve never actually been to a black-tie gala before. I’m more at home with code and pixels, not swanking it up with billionaires.”

“Swanking it up?” His eyes twinkle with amusement. “That’s right, you’re more of a Comic Con girl. Daredevil still your number one, huh?”

The champagne threatens to escape my nose. “God. So you did see the stupid action figure on my desk.”

He shoots me a look, a slow, knowing smile playing on his lips. “Something like that.”

“JP,” a sultry voice coos from behind us.

We turn to find a skyscraper of a woman. Her striking blue eyes and dark hair remind me uncomfortably of myself—if I were the 2.0 version. As if someone downloaded me and then upgraded me with a Pro version in Photoshop.

She brazenly flutters her lashes at JP, completely sidelining me in the process.

“Pamela,” JP responds, his voice rich and gravelly, not unwelcoming. “Nice to see you. This is Lucy.” His arm tightens around my waist, a possessive move that makes my heart do a funny little jig.

I flash her a polite smile, trying to wriggle free from his grasp, but he’s not having it.

Ignoring me, Pamela places a hand on JP’s shoulder. “We haven’t caught up in a while, have we? Since…” Her voice trails off, a sly smirk on her face.

Great. Now it’s clear JP has not only met her before but likely seen her without clothes too.

“Is this your assistant?” she asks, shooting me a look that’s half curious, half dismissive.

“Yes,” I blurt out in unison with JP’s resounding, “No.”

“She’s not an assistant,” he growls, his grip around my waist tightening. “Lucy is… she’s someone very important to the company.”

I wince at the lie. This is getting weirder by the second. Does he really think calling me “important” will make me feel better about being dragged into this?