The Allure of Dean Harper (The Allure #2)(38)

I stared down at Josephine’s black lace dress sitting on the top of my luggage. When I’d tried it on at home, the material on the bodice had curved perfectly around my breasts and sloped up to a thin halter that buttoned behind my neck. I knew if I put it on, I’d gain back a sliver of the confidence Dean had stolen earlier that day.

“How’d you know I have that dress?”

“Because I have an empty hanger in my closet where it should be. That thing had better not stay in Vegas.”

Damn, she was good.

“I promise I won’t get anything on it,” I said, stepping closer and running my fingers over the lace.

“Don’t worry about that. Send me a picture of you after you get ready. I’ll be living vicariously through you.”

I stared up at myself in the mirror. My hair was flat and my mascara was smeared beneath my eyes. I’d need a major overhaul if I intended on meeting the group at the club downstairs in a few hours.

“I’ll make you proud,” I said, pulling the dress out of the suitcase and then reaching for a pair of black strappy heels that I’d nabbed as well. “PS, I also have your black Manolos. Okayloveyoubye.”

I crammed all the words together and hung up before she could berate me for stealing her shoes as well. She immediately shot me a text.



Josephine: Don’t let Dean’s tears ruin those shoes.



I didn’t want Dean to weep; I wanted him to realize how wrong he was. He didn’t take me seriously as a friend or as a coworker. He underestimated me just like everyone else, and that night, I planned on proving him wrong.

I reached for the hotel phone, dialed the front desk, and asked to be connected to the salon.

After I’d scheduled a hair and makeup appointment, I hung up, grabbed everything I needed for the evening, and headed for the salon. I was standing in the central elevator bank, waiting for a lift when a family joined me. I glanced over to see a little girl staring up at me, confused by the mascara on my cheeks. I’d forgotten to wash it off before leaving my room.

“Mommy, can I get my face painted like a monster too?” the little girl whispered loudly.

I smiled and turned back to the illuminated numbers above the elevator.

Not a monster. A phoenix.





Chapter Thirty


Dean





“Are you an idiot?” Zoe asked.

“You asked her to go home?” Julian was in complete disbelief.

My explanations fell on deaf ears: she’d been disrespectful, she’d jeopardized a relationship that had taken me years to cultivate, and she was a constant threat to my self-control. I didn’t tell them the last reason, of course. They’d have a field day with that knowledge, especially because it was the only reason that really mattered. She’d been out of line in the meeting with Antonio, but hardly terrible enough to send home. No, I wanted her gone because having her in Vegas was a constant reminder of my struggle. I could look, but not touch. I could berate her for screwing up a meeting, but I couldn’t kiss her. I’d slept on the couch, ten feet from her, and I’d lain awake the entire night, listening and praying I’d hear a sound coming from her room, some kind of invitation. Nothing had come and I was tired as shit.

She needed to go. It was the only way I could focus for the second half of the week.

Still, a part of me hoped she’d meant what she’d said as she’d walked away earlier.

I’ll see you at the meet and greet later.

…



The Bank was filled to the brim with industry people. I recognized half of them from years past, and the other half I’d read about in the food sections of newspapers and magazines.

The celebrity chefs already had crowds around them and I steered clear, opting for a table across the room. Hunter, Zoe, and Julian followed me in, taking in the scene in silence. I ordered bottle service and threw Zoe a pleading look. She shrugged and stared down at her phone. Good enough. I couldn’t stand another hour of her anger.

Our waiter returned with bottles of Hendrick’s Gin and Deep Eddy Vodka. I watched him set out ice, glasses, and a slew of mixers. Once he was gone, I motioned for them to make their drinks first and turned to scan the room.

I couldn’t admit to myself that I was looking for Lily until I found her. Her long blonde hair was curled and slipping down across her back. Her black dress was tight and short. I scanned down her tan legs and then lingered on her, too aware of the kick drum in my chest.

She laughed and reached out to touch the arm of the guy across from her. It was nothing more than a harmless gesture, but the guy’s smile almost split his face in two. I couldn’t blame him; I knew what that touch felt like.

Hunter, Julian, and Zoe were talking behind me, carrying on an entire conversation that I ignored. Someone tapped my shoulder, but I was too interested in Lily, too aware of her movements in that black dress. She turned in my direction and her eyes found me. I didn’t glance away. It was a challenge, just like always. One slender brow arched in acknowledgement and then she excused herself from the group. Their faces fell and the man she’d touched reached out after her, like he wasn’t ready to let her go yet.

Too bad, *.

You never even had her.

I watched her walk toward the table like a mirage. If I blinked, if I turned away, she’d disappear.