Gold Rush (Blackwood Security #4) - Elise Noble Page 0,52

with a self-satisfied smile as Nate jumped from one thousand to five thousand dollars and the competitor gave up.

“Five thousand dollars for a meal?” I said faintly.

Nate flashed the first grin I’d seen from him. “Not just the meal. I also get my wife’s undying appreciation, and that’s priceless. Right, querida?”

Carmen smacked him across the chest and he pretended to wince, but she was smiling too. Luke didn’t look quite so happy when he won the salsa lessons.

“Next up, we have a selection of cupcakes from Gilbert’s bakery,” the compère boomed. “Who’ll start the bidding at a hundred dollars?”

Nick stuck his hand up, and a vice clenched around my heart. Was he bidding because he thought I wanted them? With every increment, the guilt weighed heavier until the hammer came down at two hundred and twenty dollars.

Nick reached over and squeezed my hand. “I hope you enjoy them.”

“You didn’t need to spend all that money.”

“I had to bid on something or it would look bad.”

“But I can’t even eat them.”

“Why not? I thought you liked cakes.”

“I’m on a diet.”

He looked me up and down. “Since when?”

That was it. I burst into tears. Every eye followed me as I half ran, half tripped back to the ladies’ room and locked myself in a stall again.

I just wanted to be on my own.

Except I couldn’t even manage that.

The door crashed against the wall, and Nick’s voice sounded far too close. Normally, he spoke softly, his voice calm and measured, but now I heard a hint of panic in his tone.

“Lara, open the door.”

“No.”

I heard him back up, his leather-soled shoes soft on the tile, then Mack spoke.

“Nick, what are you doing?”

“Breaking the door down, what do you think?”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. All you need is a bobby pin.” Twenty seconds later, the door swung open. “Flipping men,” she muttered.

Nick crouched in front of me as our entire table watched me make a fool of myself.

“I didn’t mean that the way it came out,” he said. “I just... You were eating chocolates while you got ready to go out tonight. I was surprised when you said you were dieting, that’s all. You don’t need to lose weight.”

“Yes, I do.”

“You’re perfect as you are.”

“No, I’m not.” I swiped at my eyes with manicured fingertips that belonged on somebody else. “A woman in the bathroom said I’m fat.”

Oh heck, I sounded like an eighth-grader the way I was whining. I was never touching alcohol again. But promises didn’t help at that moment, so I closed my eyes and wished I could flush myself down the toilet I was sitting on. Anything to get away from the people staring at me.

“Are you sure you didn’t mishear her?”

“There were two women, and they were talking about you and Emmy. And me. They said I looked like a dumpling.”

I opened my eyes in time to see Nick’s narrow. “Who were they?”

“One of them was called Katya.”

He sat back. “That conniving little witch. Lara, your curves are in exactly the right places, believe me.”

Mack laid a hand on my knee. “Oh, honey, nothing but spite and lies ever comes out of Katya’s mouth. What else did she say?”

“She called Emmy a bitch and said she’d make sure Nick had her new number so he could call her.”

Nick laughed. “She was right about Emmy.”

Huh? Why would he say that? Did they have a falling out?

“She called me a broomstick once when she was trying to get her claws into Luke,” Mack said. “It’d be good to have her new number though. She had to change it after we signed her up online as an escort with the last one. I believe she was getting a lot of calls.”

Jed grinned from his position against the sink. “She got a lot of calls because you put on the ad that she was offering a group discount. What man wouldn’t go for that?”

“Wow. Did you really?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Nick said. “They really did. Now forget about Katya. You look stunning. Let’s go talk to a few people and then we can head home.”

Mack fussed around fixing my make-up then Nick took my hand, keeping me close to him as we made our way across the ballroom. He acted like nothing had happened, but as he introduced me to everybody from a Hollywood actor to a senator, I fought back tears. I had nothing in common with these people, and no matter what Emmy might do, I couldn’t pretend to belong.

“This is Raymond Steppey

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