The Rivals - Dylan Allen Page 0,12

mean, she’s pretty, but … like … how can she even afford this trip? This room? I heard no one will hire her,” a chorus girl says.

“That’s none of your business, you guys.” Cass’s voice is rising in anger.

“Well, if her gold-digging ways are going to reflect on us—”

“You’re only here because Liv was nice enough to let you use her room block despite the fact that you’re not wedding guests. And if this is how you feel about her, then just keep your distance this weekend.”

I like this Cass. There’s a beat of silence before one of the voices responds in a whiny bray.

“She’s the one who—”

“I’m baaaack!” The door flies open as the voice belonging to “TB” rejoins the group. Their conversation comes to a complete and utter stop.

“Oh, hey. Couldn’t sleep?” Cass says in a much thinner, more hesitant voice than the one she’s been using since they came outside.

“No. I was just so excited thinking about all the rich guys who’ll be here this weekend,” she says in a sing-song voice.

I freeze. Suddenly, I wish I’d gone inside. This is the very last thing I need or want to hear.

“I mean, it’s an Italian villa. It’s bound to be crawling with them,” Cass says and her discomfort is loud and clear even from where I’m sitting.

“Exactly, ladies,” TB crows. “If you want me to teach you, all you have to do is ask. It’s not that hard. Men with money are the best boyfriends. They’re usually so busy making it they don’t have time for you. You might only have to fuck him once a month,” she says. A chorus of uncomfortable giggles ripples through the crackling air around me.

I know firsthand about women like her.

I’ve just finished freeing myself from the clutches of one.

My amusement, interest, and good mood fizzle all at once. I start to head back inside. At least I’ll know who to avoid tonight.

I’m almost to my door when my phone starts to ring.

The loud trill fills the air like a siren, and the conversation from the next balcony comes to an abrupt stop.

“Oh my God, is someone there?” I hear one of the chorus girls say right as I shut the door behind me and answer the phone.

DOLCE VITA

CONFIDENCE

“Who is that?” I lean over to Cass and whisper without taking my eyes off the tall, well-built, beautiful man who just strode into the tent like he’s about to tell us all he’s our new ruler and ask us to pledge our loyalty or die. He’s even more beautiful in that suit than he was half naked in the hallway this afternoon.

I can still feel the soft brush of his fingers on my neck. The way my breath caught in my throat when he’d dragged the pendant up my chest until it nestled into the small hollow at the base of my throat.

His dark, wavy hair is just long enough to curl right at the edge of his crisp white tuxedo shirt. It’s unruly and perfectly artless in a way that no human hand, and no amount of pomade, could create. Those silky dark-chocolate waves are the work of God himself. His profile is strong and bold; his nose prominent and straight. His lips are set in a straight line but I can see their fullness even in his profile. And God, his jaw. It’s chiseled and wide and covered in a beard low enough to be a five o’clock shadow, meticulously groomed so you can tell it’s not. His broad, tall frame is poured into a black tuxedo that fits him perfectly. He looks like he’s the sovereign of something—a country, a business, a thousand women in a harem somewhere …

Heads turn as he crosses the room. And I can’t blame them—not even a little bit. He oozes sex and power. His long strides eat up the floor, and he reaches the lone empty table at the back of the tent quickly. When he’s adorned the chair with his glorious body, he turns to face the front of the room where the bridal party is sitting and giving their speeches.

“Who’s who?” she asks and pokes her head around the room. I tug her arm and nod at him.

“Him. Also known as the man of all of my dirty dreams,” I purr excitedly, my eyes trained on the finest specimen of man I’ve ever seen this close up.

“Ohhh,” she drawls, eyes widening with interest and props her chin on her hand and