Page 2 of The World
“No,” she said sweetly. “That’s just a bonus because I love you.”
“Lucky me.”
“But here’s the catch. If you win, you have to actuallyusewhatever you win. Massage, hot air ballooning, safari trip to Africa, whatever. You can’t give it away or let it expire.”
I tilted my head and raised one eyebrow. “Seriously? Like, if I win a tour of a peanut butter factory, I have to go? What if I’m allergic to peanuts?”
She squinted at me in disbelief. “Okay. A, you’renotallergic to peanuts. And B, just be careful where you drop your damn tickets, whiner baby. Or better yet,don’tbe careful!” she said archly. “Maybe you don’t have to control everything.”
I huffed out a breath. I wasn’t sure why the idea of doing this seemed like such a big deal when it shouldn’t have been.
“And why am I doing this atall? To prove a point?”
She looked up at me, her brown eyes serious. “Because deep down, you know that what I’m saying is true. If you have nothing in your life but work, you’re going to burn out. I can see it happening already.”
“Don’t let my mother catch you saying that,” I scoffed. “My parents always say…”
“Yeah, I know,” she reminded me. “I’ve met them. And I get that they’ve had it tough, financially. I know that’s why they’re so hard on you about being successful. But a flame can’t burn without oxygen, honey, and you’re suffocating.”
“Pfft. Drama queen,” I said. But maybe she had a point. “Fine. With any luck, I won’t win a prize at all.”
I tried to take the ticket stubs from her hand, but she clutched them tighter.
“The stubs are staying with me,” she said, towing me through the club and past the crowd that clustered around the table. “To make sure you don’taccidentallylose them when it’s time to claim your prize.”
I snickered. “So little trust.”
As promised, the prizeswerea big deal, and there were alot.A trip for two to a Tuscan vineyard. A private dinner catered by a chef I recognized from the television on the back of the airplane seat. New Year’s Eve at a swanky hotel near Times Square. Horseback riding lessons. Kayaking adventures. A cruise around the Mediterranean.
More travel, when I could barely remember what it felt like to sleep in my own bed.But Simone’s face was set mulishly, so I pursed my lips and considered my options.
“Okay, there’ll be no Tuscan vineyards. Been there, done that.” The speaking engagement I’d had in Lucca still gave me nightmares. “LoatheTimes Square.” I’d done a photo op there once, and there had beenwaytoo many humans. “And I’ve already seen the Mediterranean.” From land, of course, but still. One body of water looked like all the others:wet. “Horseback riding,” I decided, dropping two of my five tickets into that basket. “Might be fun to see you break a sweat.”
She shuddered slightly. “Yeah, fortunately for me, I won’t be going with you. That’s not how this works.”
I paused with my hand hovering over the table. “What do you mean? How does it work?”
I turned to face her, ready to demand an explanation, but instead my shoulder bumped the guy next to me, causing me to drop my tickets into some random basket and knocking him into the table.
“Shit!” he cried. “You made me drop my tickets!” He turned to glare at me with the angriest,bluesteyes I’d ever seen, and I found myself replying without thinking.
“Me? You were the one standing too close! You made me drop myowntickets.” I turned to Simone and rolled my eyes.Can you believe this guy?
She rolled her eyes back, but like she was put out withme,not him.
“I’m Simone Banfield, the publicist for this event,” she said smoothly. “I'm so sorry for the mishap. Let me get you some new tickets.”
The guy hesitated, his cheeks turning red. He was handsome, objectively speaking… Okay,fine, he was really fucking attractive, especially with the blush. He was a few inches shorter than me, and his sun-streaked hair and fair, freckled skin made it seem like he spent a lot of time outdoors.
I felt a tug of wild longing in my gut that shocked the hell out of me.
“Don’t bother,” the man said curtly. “I’m not a donor, I’m just here to write up a piece on the event. And it’s not like I would have won anyway.” But he darted a longing glance back at the table like he’d lost something way more precious than a raffle ticket.
“I insist.” Simone laid a soothing hand on his forearm. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.” She shot me a look that clearly said,Smooth things over with the writer dude or suffer the consequences, then moved toward the entrance.
I sighed. It was a good thing I loved her.
I rubbed the back of my neck. “So, which of the prizes were you hoping for?”