Page 30 of Nothing to You (Nothing to… #7)

ONE WEEK QUICKLY became two. It was amazing how time flew by when she needed as many seconds as she could get.

No doubt LA was a beautiful city with plentiful sights to see.

The rack of leaflets in the hotel lobby suggested that anyway.

Given her mission, she didn’t see anything except the inside of her hotel and Crimson, LA.

Helena kept up and Mieux was a lifesaver. Johann and Myles stayed behind at Mosaic to continue the day-to-day running of Hope.

Roxie visited but she and Zairn were up to their eyeballs in press for the Nothing to Hide documentary. As predicted, it was causing a storm of interest. Every time she checked her phone or turned on the TV, there was some new soundbite or clip making the rounds.

In a stroke of luck, Jane was wedding planning and had a bunch of useful recommendations, both who to chase and who to avoid. Just knowing who to pursue saved her so much time.

In the habit of visiting the club, it was just another trip there on the Saturday. Like any other day. But that was the day Huddle Hope would become real to the world.

Walking around just before the doors opened, the sparkling lights and the glittering champagne flutes changed everything about the moment. Planning was over. It was time for the main event.

In the kitchen, the to-do list seemed never-ending. “No,” she said, waving her pen at one of the servers she’d auditioned that week. Yep, in LA, even menial work required an audition. “Those are not the welcome platters. They come after.”

The kitchen staff was incredible. The chefs? Quick, efficient, and amazingly talented. The food? Better than she’d tasted anywhere else. Growing up hadn’t been caviar and canapés, but this was her life now.

“Switch that one with that one,” she said to another of the servers. “Move that over there.”

Redirecting trays, the half-empty ones had to be closer to the kitchen, not the pass.

“And the work is done,” his voice announced behind her just moments before his hand slid onto her waist to turn her around. “Looking hot, Radley. You wearing that just for me?”

The dress. The hair. The makeup. They happened around her while she scrambled with the last-minute necessities. Somehow, it had all come together.

“Not for you,” she said, trying to extricate herself from his hold.

It tightened. He wasn’t letting her get anywhere. “It’s time to come and enjoy the party. And I haven’t seen you for days. Did you forget?”

No, she hadn’t. Keeping busy filled the time usually spent being aggravated by him.

“Do you know how much I’ve got done since chasing you away? I could be running all of Mosaic if you weren’t standing in my way.”

“Go to it, baby. I’m happy to be a kept man filling my days with porn and prank cyberattacks.”

“I won’t rise to it. I’m busy. And you’re back to standing in my way.”

“I’m standing in your way now because it’s date time.”

“Your date is busy,” she said. “Working.”

They hadn’t discussed attending the event together or being each other’s date. Talk wasn’t necessary, it was just the plan.

“Stop working.”

“There’s alcohol,” she said. “Lots and lots of alcohol. If you get drunk enough, it won’t work anyway. You don’t want to disappoint me.”

His hands skimmed around to her lower back, pressing her against him. “It’ll work right now.”

“Right now, I’m busy.”

“No, you’re done,” he said, plucking the pen and binder from her hands to toss them onto a nearby stainless-steel table.

“Rourke,” she said, grabbing for her authority.

It was stolen again when he snagged her wrists to drape them around his neck.

“The party’s started. The work is done, Radley. Everyone is out there waiting for you. The people want to see you.”

Everyone was out there?

Blinking, her attention landed on the door beyond his upper arm. “Everybody’s here?”

She’d seen the first few guests arrive when the doors opened and had shaken half a dozen hands. Then the lighting director had a question about additional power, diverting her focus.

“Yes,” he said. “Everyone we care about. The party is in full swing. You did it.” He laced their fingers together. “Come see what you’ve done.”

It wouldn’t hurt to take a peek for a few minutes.

When he led her into the main nightclub, with its chandeliers and draped silk, she almost couldn’t believe it was the same Crimson as before.

They even had oak hardwood floors brought in and installed specifically for the event.

A limitless budget made everything possible.

People smiled at them and nodded their way. Some appeared eager to chat, but Rourke tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and ignored them.

“This is the part of the night when everybody tells you what a good job you’ve done and how impressed they are that it all came together so quickly,” he said and stooped lower to rest his lips in her hair.

“I’m not impressed. For the record. I think you could’ve done better.

Much better. Parties like this are a dime a dozen. ”

“I know. I modeled it on your house parties. Your example was my framework.”

“Ah, so that’s why you weren’t taking part?”

“You don’t have to be here, you know,” she said. “You’ve shown face. You’ve done your bit. This isn’t your idea of fun. If you want to leave—”

“Why would I want to leave? If there’s any chance of you falling on your face, I want to soak up every second.”

After passing through the people at the edge of the dance floor, he swung a left and escorted her to the back of the room. They ascended to the slightly elevated seating area, teeming with familiar faces.

“Roux!” Roxie exclaimed, jumping up to climb over Zairn and give her a hug. “Where have you been? This is wonderful!”

“It is,” Jane agreed. “It absolutely is. You used the caterer I recommended!”

“I did. Their samples were by far the best. You were right.”

“So is this a preview of the wedding?” Roxie asked, sitting on Zairn rather than returning to her own place at his other side.

Zairn didn’t twitch in objection. He combed Roxie’s hair away from her shoulder to lay his lips against her.

Lilya was next to stand up and kiss her cheek. “You’ve done a really good thing.” Stepping aside, she presented the man who’d sat at her side. “And this is Zach.”

“Fiancé,” he said, standing up to offer a polite cheek kiss.

“Kintyre,” she said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Oh, I didn’t—” Jane flapped her hands. “I don’t know where Knox is.”

“Upstairs,” Zairn said, brushing his lips back and forth on his fiancée’s skin. “He’ll be down in a minute.”

“Why aren’t we upstairs?” Rourke asked. “I don’t like being with the minions. I told you that on the Kyst-meister’s birthday.”

“Roxie’s birthday was friends and family only, not the general public.”

“Minions,” he said. “How many figures were they worth?”

“You don’t even care about money,” she said, jabbing him with an elbow. “Stop looking at the negatives. This is a target rich environment. There’s plenty of heirs and heiresses eager to take you out for a spin.”

As he’d invited Franco to do with her.

He dug his chin into the top of her head. “I thought it wasn’t going to work tonight.”

“I’m sure you could find other ways to entertain new friends. You kind of know what you’re doing with your mouth, but don’t expect anyone else to be as good as I am at faking it.”

Kintyre’s eyes narrowed, switching from her to Rourke and back. “I can’t tell if you’re in love or homicidal.”

“They’re in love. We established that,” Lilya said, pushing Zach back onto their curved couch to then sit next to him. “Friend love.”

“Don’t tell her,” Rourke said. “She has big ideas. I’m using her for sex. I’ll get bored soon.”

“Oh, I can’t wait for the day.” She leaned back to pat his thigh, underlining her sarcasm. “Go make me a daiquiri.”

“Ha,” he laughed. “There are around five hundred bartenders here.” Proving his point, he turned. “Hey!” A passing server stopped. “We need daiquiris up here, for everyone, strawberry.”

For a second, the young guy stood dazed, like a deer in the headlights, then quickly nodded and ran off.

“That wasn’t polite.”

“When am I ever polite?” he asked, tossing his arms around her shoulders to hug her against him from behind. “Are we going to dance?”

“No, I like these shoes. I don’t want you stomping all over them.”

“Can mine be virgin?” Lilya asked. “I’m not drinking alcohol.”

“Yeah, you forgot that, didn’t you?” she said, digging her nails into one of his hands. “Now Lilya feels left out.”

“She’s not left out. She’s drinking for two. Why not get the kid wasted? Then he might just slide on out.”

“Oh!” Jane exclaimed like Rourke’s jibe was serious. “It’s much too early. Way, way too early. Premature babies can survive from twenty-two or twenty-three weeks, but it’s super rare and often they have a lot of issues growing up.”

“Medical issues?”

“Have you thought about that?” Jane asked. “Is it something you worry about?”

“About him being premature or having medical issues?” Kintyre asked. “If there’s anything medically wrong with him, he’ll get the best care available in the world.”

“I’m actually excited,” Roxie said. “I wasn’t at first. I didn’t really get it, but all the planning and scanning.

The doctor appointments. It’s fun. It’s like Christmas is coming, but you already know what you’re getting.

” Roxie laid her head on Zairn. “The best part about it is, we can give him back.”

“Give him back?”

“Yeah, we get to play with him until it’s not fun anymore and then we send him back to Jane.”

“Back to Jane?” Kintyre asked.

Everyone laughed.

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re going to see much of your kid. Maybe you’ll get to see him when he has babies. I’m sure he’ll know who you are. Jane will show him photographs.”

“Guess that’s something.”

“I’m sure Jane will be his favorite auntie,” Roxie said. “But I’m godmother. I better get the best gifts at Christmas.”