Blame it on the Champagne (Blame it on the Alcohol #1) - Fiona Cole Page 0,16

any haze I’d slipped into.

“What?”

Smooth, Verana.

Internally, I rolled my eyes. The question hadn’t been expected and hit me like a bucket of cold water, spiking my nerves to life. I couldn’t answer truthfully, but I didn’t want to lie either.

Instead, I answered as vaguely as possible and hoped social niceties wouldn’t have him prying. “He’s my father’s friend’s son. Just an acquaintance.”

Who was also my future husband. But I wasn’t lying; he really was nothing more than an acquaintance right now.

His jaw worked back and forth, chewing over the information and unsure if he liked how it tasted.

“How do you know him?” I asked before he could push for more.

“The business world isn’t as big as you think.” He turned to walk away but quickly turned back. “Careful who you go after, Miss Barrone. Some men may not be what they seem.”

“I am not—” I started, but he didn’t stick around to listen. Before I knew it, I stood alone in the hallway—still needing to go face Camden when all I wanted to do was go home. Only now, I had to do it with the scent of Nicholas on my tongue and a fiery anger close to overflowing.

But fate apparently decided it had dealt me enough bad luck for the evening because when I went back, Camden was just accepting his card back from the waiter.

“I hope you didn’t want dessert. I just got a call, and we need to go.”

“Oh, no.” If he could hear the complete lack of sincerity, he didn’t comment on it.

“I can drop you off on my way.”

“No, that’s okay. I’ll take a cab.”

“Are you sure?”

So fucking sure. “Yeah. Work is important. I don’t want you to be late.”

He smiled approvingly like he was proud of me for my new trick. I almost waited for him to pat me on the head when we walked out, telling me how proud he was of his pretty future wife.

“By the way, you’ll be attending the gala with me next week,” he announced.

I opened my mouth to protest that I had plans with the girls but never got the chance.

“Don’t argue and wear something sexy. I want to show off my future wife.”

I almost cringed but stopped when I met Nicholas’s eyes over Camden’s shoulder. Camden leaned in to kiss me goodbye, and I quickly turned my head. His lips still landed against my cheek, and by some miracle, I managed to not jerk away.

“So pure,” he whispered against my cheek. A shiver worked its way through my limbs when he pulled back with a smirk and pinched my chin, swiping his thumb across my lips. “Soon.”

And with that last eerie promise, he walked away. Without looking around to find Nicholas’s reaction, I dove into the waiting car and sent a message to Raelynn to meet me at home.

I needed someone to help me process the night and drink with me until I passed out.

Maybe if I drank enough, I wouldn’t dream of Nicholas for just one night.

Seven

Vera

“I’m so proud to be your friend right now,” Raelynn said, smiling at me like a proud mom as we strolled into the gala. “That dress screams seductive strength and fuck you, and you wish you could have this, all in one. The perfect dress for Camden.”

I snorted a laugh.

“I mean, the blood-red says I’ll kill you and bathe in your blood. But the touch of lace along the back says I’m a lady. But it’s the fit, bare back, and flashes of skin that make it so utterly sexy.”

I dropped my chin, a blush rising into my cheeks. I didn’t usually wear something like this, but when I saw it—after the past month—I had to have it. I liked the way it wrapped around my neck, and the soft silky material cradled my breasts. It wasn’t just a deep v down to my belly button; it was like it had been twisted to my hip and threatened to expose my left breast at any moment. I loved it.

“Look who’s talking.” I gestured to an unashamed Raelynn, throwing in an extra strut in her beige, black, and silver glitter dress. She reminded me of the Black Swan with everything strategically glued in place to cover anything important.

“Yeah, but this is me. I wear shit like this all the time. You, are the muted color cardigan and pearls.”

“I don’t wear a cardigan and pearls all the time.”

“Economics. Sophomore year. You sure did.”

“It was cute.”

“It was. It fit your personality of goody-two-shoes