THE CRAZY GOOD SERIES - Rachel Robinson Page 0,247

into my dance partner’s ear.

Then I whisk us to a different section of the dance floor so I can recover from a mere glimpse of the only woman I’ll ever love.

Morganna

He winked at me. While another woman was draped around his body like an accessory. I’m not sure what to think. Windsor told me he didn’t have a date, except there is a raven-haired carbon copy of me fawning all over him. It takes me a while to realize who she is. Her photo was in the online news articles. She’s the journalist the guys rescued. She cleans up well and the jealousy I feel watching him watch her makes me feel ill.

Alex returns with my champagne and I down it in a few sips, my eyes burning holes in Steven’s muscular back. My attraction to him is not only still there, it’s worse—lethal even. In a suit with his hair slicked to the side he reminds me of a brawny James Bond. Except even more appealing because he’s not fictional and I know what he’s truly capable of.

“Well, are you going to go say hello?” Alex asks, his soft voice barely audible over the music. I should, but my unfaltering confidence took a nosedive when I saw how happy Steven looks. He’s perfectly fine without me, or my useless apology.

Taking a bite of my dinner, I reply, “Maybe in a bit. He looks busy.” Alex agreed to come with me as a friend. I’m not so naive to think that he’s not hoping for more to come from it. He’s shaved and trimmed his shoulder length hair. It’s definitely a date in his mind. A real one. He excuses himself to use the restroom and I’m actually relieved at his absence.

“Go,” Windsor barks into my other ear. I glance to my right. “Rule number one. Never let them see you sweat. You might as well have pit stains right now. That’d be a real shame, as that couture gown probably deserves something better,” she explains. I laugh as she throws one of my rules back in my face.

“I’m not sweating. I’m calculating my success rate,” I admit, glancing over her shoulder to Maverick sitting next to her. “What do you think?”

Maverick tears his gaze from Windsor’s naked shoulder. “I think he’s sealing the deal over there with Viv, if you want to know the truth. I also know he’s a twisted fucking mess over you and she happens to bear a striking resemblance to one, Morganna Sterns. If any part of you wants that man, I suggest you take your pit stains over there and tell him so.” He clears his throat. “Because life doesn’t wait. And that man has waited longer than any individual I’ve ever known.”

Rising from my seat without another word, I walk, high heels blazing a trail to stand behind Steven’s chair. The girl, Viv, is leaning toward him, cupping her hand around his ear. He laughs at whatever she says, and then like a predator scenting prey, he turns his head and catches sight of me. The girl leans away and turns to face me as well. I see the second recognition lights her face. She’s a journalist. She knows who I am.

I wave at her. “Do you mind if I borrow your date for a second?” I ask, refusing to make eye contact with Steven.

Her eyes widen as she glances at him and then back to me. “Of course. I’m not his date anyways,” Viv explains, flustered.

Turning to face Steven, I narrow my eyes. “A word, Mr. Warner?” He strokes his chin between his thumb and forefinger, eyes searching my face for something. For truth.

“Excuse me, Vivian. Let me find out what Ms. Sterns needs from me and I’ll be back,” Steven says, voice sending shivers to my core. How did Maverick know? It looks and sounds as if this deal is already closed. Steven rises from his seat, turning his gaze to the companions at my table.

“What do you want?” he growls as soon as we’re out in the hallway and the music fades away. I wince.

Glancing down the hallway, I see an employee exit a room with a fur stole in his hand: a coat closet. It will have to do. Grabbing his hand, I drag him behind me, unwilling to talk to him in a place so public. This is not going how I imagined it.

When the door of the coat closet closes behind me, I lock it and lean