Rush: The Season (Austin Arrows Book 1)(74)

Although I invited Ellie to this function weeks ago, I’ve had second thoughts ever since. Not because I don’t want to be with her. I do. I want to be with her as much as I can; however, I expect tonight to go a certain way, and it’s probably not going to be pretty.

I’ve run into the Withmores at least twice since they cornered me at the Penalty Box and got my full commitment to coming to this shindig. Every time we’ve chatted, they’ve mentioned their daughter, and the last time they even informed me that Cheryl was looking forward to spending time with me. According to Mrs. Withmore, Cheryl misses me. It’s bullshit, I know. Cheryl is the type of woman who likes attention, as are her parents. Doesn’t matter what sort, as long as people are looking at her or talking about her, it makes her feel good. It would be fine if it was innocent, but Cheryl is also the type who likes to make a scene. And I get the feeling tonight will be her perfect opportunity. Especially with Ellie here with me.

But … even though I know how this will go down, I can’t imagine not being able to spend some additional time with Ellie, so she’s here with me as we walk into the monstrous ballroom where the event is being held. I picked her up an hour ago, and she floored me when I walked in her front door. The woman wears a dress like no other woman I know. Tonight’s is a white silk sheath that glimmers and clings to every glorious curve and accentuates her generous cleavage, her olive complexion, and her long legs. Let’s just say, it was damned difficult to leave her house.

“Do you know all these people?” she asks, walking beside me with her arm looped through mine.

“Not a one,” I admit. “Other than the Withmores, that is.”

Her smile widens as she stares up at me. “Then this should be fun.”

Because I want to get that part out of the way, I scan the room and locate the mayor and his wife talking to another couple. Figuring I should probably announce my presence so they’ll give me credit for showing up, I make my way toward them, keeping Ellie close to my side.

When a waiter passes, I grab two flutes of champagne and pass one over to Ellie. I personally can’t stand the stuff, but beggars can’t be choosers, and nasty alcohol is better than no alcohol when you’re surrounded by people whose only goal in life is flaunting how much money they have.

“Ahh, Kingston,” Mr. Withmore greets as soon as he sees me. He turns to the other couple. “If you’ll excuse us.”

I notice Mrs. Withmore’s gaze zoom in on Ellie. A flash of what I can only describe as disapproval darkens her face, but she hides it quickly with another plastic smile.

“Ellie Kaufman,” I begin by way of introduction. “This is Mayor Withmore and his beautiful wife.”

Mrs. Withmore blushes slightly.

Ellie holds out her hand to them both. “It’s so nice to see you again.”

Mayor Withmore looks slightly confused, and I wonder how obtuse you have to be not to recognize the woman who owns the sports bar you go to probably once a week.

“Ellie owns the Penalty Box,” I announce.

“Oh, right,” Mrs. Withmore acknowledges. “Lovely to see you, dear.”

Funny. Based on Mrs. Withmore’s expression, it’s anything but lovely.

Mayor Withmore glances around as though looking for someone. “I know Cheryl is here somewhere. She’s looking forward to seeing you again.” His gaze meets mine once more. “I do hope the two of you get a chance to talk things out.”

Right. Because there is anything for us to talk about.

“We really should go greet more guests, dear,” Mrs. Withmore tells her husband. “It was so nice seeing the two of you here. Thank you so much for coming.”

I nod as I put my arm around Ellie. Have I mentioned how much I hate these things?

When they are out of earshot, Ellie turns to me and grins. “Well, that wasn’t weird at all.”

I can’t resist tipping her chin up a little and pressing my lips to hers. “You look stunning.”

“So you’ve said.” There’s a hint of color that brightens her cheeks, and I’ve got the urge to sneak into a closet somewhere and make out with her. Should our clothes disappear, then so be it. It reminds me of our bet and the fact that I haven’t collected. I wonder if she’ll be up for it tonight.

Maybe this won’t be a total loss after all.

“Kingston Rush.”

Still facing Ellie, I close my eyes and prepare for the storm that’s coming. She must sense my trepidation, because Ellie squeezes my arm gently, as though assuring me this will go smoothly.

“Cheryl,” I bite out, turning to face her while I pull Ellie against my side. “This is Ellie Kaufman. Ellie, meet Cheryl Withmore.”

“Nice to meet you,” Ellie says sweetly, holding out her hand.

It’s obvious Cheryl is assessing Ellie the same way her mother did, but it doesn’t seem to bother Ellie one bit. I should’ve known she would easily be able to hold her own. That’s the kind of woman she is. Tough, smart, resilient. She’s a keeper.

“Ellie,” Cheryl greets, shaking Ellie’s hand with limp fingers. “What is it that you do?”

Ellie glances up at me, smiling before she glances back at Cheryl. “Him.”

Cheryl frowns. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I guess I should’ve said it more clearly. You asked what I do and, well … I do him.”