Faking Ms. Right (Dirty Martini Running Club #1) - Claire Kingsley Page 0,75
I made my way quickly to the front door, only catching glimpses of black and gold.
“The first guests will be here any minute, but take your time,” he said, ushering me out the door. “The couple of honor should make an entrance.”
“Right. We’ll be up in a little bit, then.”
I went downstairs to wait for Everly, wishing my building had a bar in the lobby. Sitting on a leather couch, I crossed one ankle over my knee and swiped through my emails. People came through the lobby—other residents as well as party guests—but I didn’t pay attention to them. There was only one person I really cared about seeing tonight.
The doors opened again and three women walked in, all dressed for the party. Everly’s friend Nora was on the left, in a deep red fringe dress and a sequined headband in her long dark hair. Hazel was on the right, wearing a similar dress in black, with long black gloves and a pair of glasses perched on her nose.
Between them, dressed in a stunning silver fringe dress, was Everly.
Her blond hair was curled in a vintage wave and her sequined headband had white feathers on one side. Thin straps showed her graceful shoulders and her lips were painted deep red.
I stood, awestruck. She looked incredible. It reminded me of the surprise I’d felt the night of the gala. She’d stunned me in that red dress, and here she was, doing it again.
She was so fucking beautiful.
Her smile was radiant, those red lips begging to be kissed. She stopped, her eyes landing on me, and her smile grew.
“There you are,” she said, breaking away from her friends. She touched the lapels of my jacket. “Don’t you look handsome.”
“You’re stunning,” I said, my eyes sweeping over her. Glancing over at her friends, I nodded. “Ladies.”
“Hi, Shepherd,” Nora said with a little wave.
Everly looked over her shoulder. “You can go on up. We’ll be there in a few.”
“Great. See you up there.”
Her friends headed for the elevator, arm in arm. I turned my attention back to Everly.
“Do you like it?” She twisted her hips a little, making all the silver fringes swirl around her.
“You’re both insanely sexy and adorable as hell in that thing.”
“Thank you. I love this suit on you. It’s very debonair.”
“I actually don’t hate it.”
She patted my chest. “You’re a good sport. Let’s go have some fun.”
Fun might be a stretch, but I didn’t object to spending the evening with this gorgeous woman at my side.
We rode the elevator up to the top floor. I traced my thumb along the back of her neck, feeling her soft skin.
She tilted her face up. “How’s my lipstick?”
Looking at those bright red lips made me want to kiss the lipstick right off them. “Perfect.”
With my hand on the small of her back, I led her into what had once been my condo. Now it looked like a glamorous nineteen-twenties speakeasy. Black tablecloths with gold accents. Vases with plumes of black feathers. Shimmering lights draped across the ceiling. A jazz trio played on the stage in the dining room and a guy in costume tended the bar that now stood in my living room.
My dad seemed to appear out of nowhere. He was still in his suit and hat, but had left his cane and cigar somewhere. “Everly, look at you. I knew this theme would be perfect. You look beautiful.”
“Thanks, Richard. This is incredible. I love your suit.”
He draped a white feather boa around her shoulders. “There. Perfect. I have one for all the ladies.”
A waiter approached with a tray of champagne. Dad handed us each a glass, then took one for himself. I was going to need something stronger, but for now, I held my glass while Dad beamed at us.
“A toast,” he said, raising his glass. “To my son and his beautiful bride.”
Everly’s eyes met mine, mirroring the hint of guilt I felt. We clinked our glasses with Dad’s, then drank.
“You two go have fun,” he said. “I’ll stay here and greet the guests. I have more boas to hand out.”
Everly slipped her hand in mine, then downed the rest of her champagne. I liked where she was going with that and finished mine too.
“Bar?” she asked.
“Yes.”
Guests mingled amid the sparkling décor, drinking champagne—there was a champagne fountain next to the bar—or prohibition era cocktails. Ethan and Grant were already here, dressed in matching pinstripe suits. They stood talking to Everly’s girlfriends. Some old friends of my dad had come—people I’d