from Percy, but Penn was staring at the man standing next to him.
“Fuck,” he snapped viciously.
“What?” I asked.
“Penn!” Camden cheered, gesturing us closer. Anything that made Camden that happy could not be a good thing. “Look who I found in the crowd.”
The man next to him was extremely attractive. Tall, dark hair, and a smile that could light up a room. He wore a custom-tailored suit that had to have cost a fortune and held a dirty martini glass to his full lips. He had his other arm slung around a woman in a silky red baby-doll dress and bunny ears. When the waitress handed her a glass of champagne, she passed her a hundred-dollar bill and told her to keep them coming.
Penn placed his hand on the small of my back, and I could feel the tension rolling off of him. But he didn’t say anything.
“Where are my brother’s manners?” the man with the martini glass said. He bent dramatically at the waist to kiss my hand. He looked up at me with baby-blue eyes I’d recognize from a mile off and a smile that screamed troublemaker. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Penn’s older and much more handsome brother, Court. Court Kensington.”
Natalie
28
I hastily withdrew my hand from his grasp. “Uh, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Natalie.”
Penn was seething at my back. I didn’t know their history. Or anything but that his brother was a train wreck. But even if I’d known nothing about Court Kensington, Penn’s reaction right now was enough for me to realize that I should stay far away.
“I must say that your angel is stunning,” Court said with a smile that mirrored his brother’s to a T. It was a little unnerving.
“Well, thank you.”
“And introduce your friend,” Camden said. “She’s a real charmer.”
The woman next to Court finally looked up from her champagne flute and smiled at me and Penn. “Jane Devney,” she said, holding her hand out. I shook her hand as she just barreled forward. “You look so familiar, Natalie. Have we met before? Were you in Paris last summer?”
“Actually, I was.” I stared at her and tried to place her. But she had one of those faces that just didn’t stick.
“I thought so. I was studying luxury fashion design and marketing at the French Fashion Institute while interning at Vogue Paris. I could swear that I saw you at a party held by Harmony Cunningham.”
I opened my mouth in surprise. “I was at a Cunningham party. I worked for her mother for a time.”
“I never forget a face,” Jane said. “I met Harmony through Bishop McHugh, the British diplomat while he was in Paris.”
“Honestly, I’m usually better with faces.” In fact, I remembered everyone I met generally. I must not have been introduced to her or else it probably would have stuck.
“Of course. Well, Bishop and global environmentalist Marin Russo’s daughter, Camilla—you know, she’s an up-and-coming Italian fashion designer—are helping to back my new club. I’d hoped to get Harmony involved. Is she going to be here tonight?”
“I’m not certain,” I said, staggering over how connected this girl was. “But congratulations on your club.”
“We’re just in the investment stage, but we’re getting there,” Jane said, finishing her drink and getting another one handed to her immediately. “Champagne?”
“Oh, yes please.”
I got my own drink and tried to ignore the tension settling between Penn and Court. Neither had said anything while Jane and I talked about our chance meeting in Paris last summer. And I knew that anything that came out of Penn’s mouth now would be far from pleasant. It would be better to extract us from this.
“Why don’t we go dance?” I asked Penn.
“All right,” he said.
“Wait, don’t you want to do shots first?” Court asked. He snapped his fingers at the waitress. Actually snapped them. “Four tequila shots.”
Camden smacked him in the chest. “One for me, too.”
“Make that five.”
“Oh, good. Tequila and champagne—the perfect mix,” Jane said dryly. “Can’t us girls skip out on this one?”
Court grinned down at her, and she seemed to melt in the same way I did when I looked at Penn.
“Do it for me, Janie. This is the first time you’re meeting my brother.”
“Ah yes, Penn Kensington,” Jane said with a smile. “How are your classes? I knew Professor Friedrich Weber, who studied metaphysics back home in Germany. Of course, not what your focus is, but he certainly went off with a bang back home.”
“Ah, Weber,” Penn said, momentarily stunned by someone who