Page 52 of The Defender

“I’ve said this a dozen times, but thank you for letting him stay with you,” Scarlett said. “He likes to pretend he’s okay and that the obsessed fan stuff doesn’t bother him, but it does.”

“I know,” I said softly. I could tell whenever Vincent was putting on a brave face for the world because I did the exact same thing. The clues were there if you knew what to look for—the too-bright smile, the overly casual tone, the air of forced nonchalance because wearing a mask was more palatable than making the people you love worry.

I tamped down my guilt and adopted a breezy tone. “Anyway, no need to thank me. He’s paying rent, so it’s not like I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart. I just wish the police weren’t so useless. They haven’t made a bit of progress since we found the photo on his car.”

“So what, they’re waiting until Vincent gets attacked before they do something? Not that he’s going to get attacked,” Carina said quickly when Scarlett’s face paled. “It’s a hypothetical.”

“I don’t know. Probably.” Great. Now I was the buzzkill for talking about potential murder. I pivoted to a lighter topic. “Also, I forgot to tell you guys, but I’m going with him to the Zenith dinner on Wednesday. He, um, needed a plus-one.”

Carina’s eyebrows winged up. “Like…a date?”

“No. It’s strictly business. He needed someone for appearances’ sake, and I wanted to eat at a nice restaurant. That’s all.” I snuck a peek at Scarlett. The dinner news was myway of gauging how she might react if I told her about the bet, but her expression was unreadable.

“Nice,” she said. “I’ve been to a few business dinners with Asher. The food’s usually good, but the conversations are so boring. They use the word ‘synergy’ way too much.”

“I told him he owes me twenty pounds if that word ever comes up during our meal.”

Scarlett grinned. “Genius.” If she was weirded out by me joining her brother for dinner, she didn’t show it.

Our conversation eventually shifted to our weekend plans, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Wednesday night.

It’s not a date,I repeated to myself. I’d said yes specifically because itwasn’tone.

But that didn’t stop the butterflies in my stomach from multiplying.

“Thanks again for doing this,” Vincent said. “I owe you one.”

“You’re welcome, and don’t worry,” I said as we followed our hostess to a private dining room. “I’m already thinking of all the ways you can pay me back.”

His mouth twitched up into a smile as his gaze ran over my outfit. “I forgot to tell you earlier, but you look great.” Perhaps I was imagining it, but his voice sounded a touch huskier than usual.

The praise sent an unwanted spark down my spine. “So do you.”

It was the night of the big Zenith dinner, and he lookedbetterthan great. His blazer and jeans the other night were nice, but nothing beat seeing Vincent DuBois in a custom-tailored suit. The soft Italian wool fit his six-foot-two frame like a dream whilethe rich navy color contrasted perfectly against his light brown skin. He’d gotten a fresh haircut, and his Zenith sneakers were a smart but subtle nod to his potential sponsor.

No wonder every head turned to watch us pass.

I’d opted for a simple blue dress that accidentally matched his suit. It was more muted than my usual style, but tonight wasn’t about me. I was here for moral support only.

My heels sank into the carpet as the hostess led us into the private dining room of some fancy steakhouse. We were greeted with a flurry of warm welcomes the instant we stepped inside.

“Vincent! So great to finally meet you!”

“Such a pleasure.”

“Brooklyn, lovely to meet you as well.”

“Thank you for having me.” I smiled and shook everyone’s hands, trying to remember their names. There were three Zenith execs at the dinner, including their CEO, Rex; their Chief Marketing Officer, Dale, and their Executive Vice President of Global Partnerships, Sandra. Lloyd rounded out our group for an even six.

Everyone was friendlier than I’d expected, but Scarlett was right: the conversation was snooze-worthy. Lots of numbers and business terms I didn’t fully understand.

Vincent’s contributions were the only thing keeping me awake. He had a way of speaking that made even the most boring topics sound interesting. His velvety pronunciation of the word “holistic”? Diabolical—though I was disappointed no one had used “synergy” yet.

“I can tell you’d fit right in with our team,” Rex said after laughing at one of Vincent’s jokes. “Although I’m getting ahead of myself, considering we haven’t gotten to the real reason we’re here yet.”

The table quieted. The Zenith execs had avoided talking specifically about their ambassadorship all night, but it seemed the time had finally come.

As Lloyd perked up like a shark smelling blood, I set my fork down, my heart racing. I had no horse in this race, but I was strangely nervous for Vincent.