ribs. The grunt that came out of him was equally satisfying.
“Nice to meet you, Paul. Excuse us, guys,” Scott said as he began to tug me away.
“Only if you return her unharmed,” Miller shot back, all pretense of humor gone.
It sucked all the fun out of the last exchange. I watched Scott sober immediately, his face shifting to his customary default neutral. “Promise,” he replied, as serious as I’d ever heard him sound. Then he guided me away.
“Ladies and gentlemen––” Frank’s voice rose over the din of the crowd, the sound resonating against the marble walls, the shrill of an amplifier at the tail end of it. The announcement stopped us in our tracks.
Standing in the middle of the dance floor in a crisp tux, holding a mic in one hand and the opposite arm wrapped around Marjorie’s slender shoulders, Frank looked larger than life––like the magnate he was.
“Thank you all for coming to help celebrate something I never thought to witness in my lifetime…my impending retirement.” Chuckles from the gallery. “Oh, and some of you may have heard that my son’s a married man.” The band hit the punchline with a drum roll and Frank smiled broadly. “He married one of my favorite people in the world.” Gaze searching, the crowd parted and he found me. Our eyes locked. That’s when I understood what he was silently imploring…you promised. He raised his champagne flute and nodded.
“Raise your glasses, folks. I paid a mint for the Cristal so let’s not let it go to waste…” Everyone obediently acted in accordance. “To Scott and Sydney.”
“To Scott and Sydney,” all three hundred (give or take) people in attendance joined in. Everyone other than me and Scott.
“May you have as happy a marriage as Midge and I have had.”
I felt like a fraud, my conscience dragging me down, and gave Frank a wobbly smile. I could feel Scott’s attention on me, searing the side of my face, and glanced up to find a speculative look on his. I was the last person on the planet to get weepy and right now I was near to crying, something I hadn’t done in decades. Over a fake marriage I wanted less and less to be a part of? It didn’t take a genius to sense that something felt seriously off. It wasn’t adding up for him and I could see he was working hard to figure it out. It was only a matter of time before he did.
“Thank you for forty-five wonderful years, Midge,” Frank continued. “They’ve gone by way too quickly, haven’t they?” He glanced at Marjorie and kissed her briefly on the lips. And in turn, Marjorie wiped her own tears away.
“Kiss!” someone in the crowd yelled.
The spotlight fell on me and Scott. Caught in the collective stares of all three hundred people, we looked at each other knowing there was no escape.
“Steer clear of the family jewels,” he murmured close to my ear, a sneaky smile parting his freshly shaved face, dimples showing. “Can’t have a bunch of little Blackstones if you maim me.”
“There won’t be any little Blackstones––” I hissed behind a cemented smile. People were watching and I was forced to give them the show they expected. He tipped his head slowly giving me time to stop him if I wanted to, but I didn’t. It was exhausting, fighting this beast of an attraction between us. And I was done trying. This time the kiss was everything a kiss should be. Sensual, possessive, drawing me deeper and deeper until the edges started to blur, and we got lost in the moment. This thing between us was irrational and without a doubt doomed to end badly, and yet there was no reasoning with chemistry. It either created an explosion, or it fizzled. The problem with explosions is that they tend to leave destruction in their wake.
Whistles and shouts broke the spell, driving us apart. I tried to gently extricate my hand from Scott’s, but he had no intention of letting go and I couldn’t very well make a fuss with a majority of the board of directors watching us.
“Let’s get out of here,” he muttered under his breath. Saluting the crowd in a patronizing gesture, he pulled me in the direction of the stairs.
“Where are we going?”
“To settle a score.”
Scott
“Where are you taking me?” she demanded to know.
I’d been craving Sydney’s mouth the moment she’d left Wyoming. Her mouth and, well, frankly, everything else. Kissing her again only supercharged this driving