People said I was unflappable when in fact I got ruffled rather easily. Kash Bennet was truly unflappable. He remained unperturbed under the most stressful and chaotic of circumstances. When faced with a challenge, he kept a confident calm, assumed that everything would work out, and vowed to help however he could to make it so.
If he could bottle that up and sell it, I’d buy a truckload.
When I made it around to him, his arms were buried to the shoulders as he lowered the wound-up garland into a huge box.
“Looks like you’re almost done,” I said. “I think that’s the fastest floral load-out I’ve ever seen.”
“Well,” he said as he stood, “I figured I’d better get to it if I’m going with you to the club.”
I flushed with gratitude. “Are you sure? It’s going to be nothing but rich, drunk celebrities and socialites for hours.”
“If you think I’m letting you walk into that snake pit alone, you don’t know me at all.”
“Thank you,” I said, relieved that I’d have backup. “I have to get going. Meet me there?”
A nod and a smile. “I’ll be right behind you.”
The depth of that statement didn’t escape me. He had my back, and I didn’t take that for granted.
With a brief kiss and last-minute instructions to my interns, I was on my way out, carrying out phase two of the night that wouldn’t end. There was very little for me to do at the club. The venue had been rented out and would run as it always did. They had their own security and amenities, and as such, there wasn’t much for me to coordinate. But I couldn’t leave until the last guest was gone. Part of my job was to be on hand in case something went wrong. I was the fixer, the person whose sole purpose was to make sure everything went exactly as planned. But once we hit the balloon drop, the champagne distribution, the giant cake, and the birthday singing, I would have nothing to do but be present for the last two hours of the night.
Hopefully, Natasha would be too busy to bother with me. Thank goodness I’d have Kash to keep me company. And then, when it was all said and done, we could go back to the hotel and climb into bed, and he could make me forget tonight ever happened.
I held onto that thought as I slipped into a cab and rushed to the club. It was a gorgeous building, everything black and gold, the sign reading Noir in an art deco font. In fact, everything was deco, from the geometric bursts and slashes in glimmering gold to the finger curls and shimmering fringe of the aerial dancers suspended from the ceiling.
Everything was exactly in order, the club beginning to fill up. The hundred people we’d carted over were the tip of the iceberg—she’d invited eight hundred of her closest friends, and I suspected with their dates and people attempting to sneak in, we would hit the venue’s capacity.
As promised, Kash was right behind me. He took up post at the smaller bar off the dance floor, sipping on whiskey and serving as a silent presence, a touchstone in the madness of the club while I floated from post to post, making sure everything was running smoothly. Although the party was full of celebrities and invite only, there was still a VIP section upstairs, and I made my way up on my circuit with no real intention other than to keep moving.
Brock stood at the bar, long body stretched out as he leaned against the surface, elbow on the glossy onyx trimmed with gold, drink hanging in the circle of his fingers. Natasha was nowhere to be seen, and for that, I was grateful. Although the space was barely lit and full of people, his eyes snapped to me, just like they’d done all night.
Discomfort wriggled in me, and I straightened myself up to banish it, heading for the other end of the bar where one of the managers stood.
A brief conversation with her confirmed that everything was up to scratch, and with a word of thanks, I turned to get out of there before Natasha came back. I’d successfully avoided her all night, and though I was sure my luck would run out at some point, I wasn’t planning on knocking on its door.
Brock, it seemed, had other plans.
He pushed off the bar, striding toward me like a bullet. Pretending I didn’t see him,