Faking Ms. Right (Dirty Martini Running Club #1)(63)

I looked around at the mess of decorations, boxes, and packing material. It was probably best if I stayed out of the way.

“All right, Dad. I’ll see you later tonight.”

He was already distracted, wandering off to direct someone setting up a table.

I went back to my bedroom and checked my messages. Everly was with her girlfriends for the day. Something about getting ready together. I didn’t know why they needed seven hours to get dressed for a party, but I knew better than to question it.

After a shower, I got dressed and went to my office. I shut the door to dampen the noise from the party crew, and got to work.





Shortly before the party was set to begin, I emerged from my office. I’d barely been out all day. Dad had brought me takeout for lunch to keep me from coming out and seeing the decorations. Now, there was a thick black curtain hanging in the entrance to the hallway that led to my office, guest room, and master suite. It was there to keep guests from coming into the more private spaces of my home—a gesture I appreciated—but it also kept me from seeing what my dad had done.

I went back to my room to change, unsure as to how I felt about this whole thing. I’d been pushing the reality of the lie I was living to the back of my mind—forcefully. Justified the charade by telling myself this party was a harmless distraction for my father.

But guilt jabbed at me, poking holes in my logic. He’d gone to a lot of trouble to celebrate an engagement that wasn’t real. Not only that, he’d put in the effort because he was genuinely excited about my supposed upcoming marriage.

Coming clean to him was not going to be easy. And this party was making it worse. I hadn’t counted on that when I’d agreed to it. Which really just meant I’d ignored the truth.

Plus, I’d never been a fan of parties. Especially when I was at the center of them. It was the sort of attention I preferred to avoid. Standing at the head of the boardroom or in front of investors was one thing. I was no stranger to being a leader. But I’d never particularly enjoyed social attention, and as one of the guests of honor at tonight’s party, I was about to be subjected to a great deal of it.

Everly texted to say she was on her way over. An inexplicable jolt of excitement ran through me. What was she wearing? I’d let her talk me into a vintage-style suit with a double-breasted vest and a dark gray fedora. It fit my dad’s theme without looking like a cheap costume. Hell, I made this look good.

There was a knock at the bedroom door. I adjusted my hat, then answered the door to find my dad—or a nineteen-twenties mobster version of my dad. He wore a pinstripe suit with a white tie, a vintage timepiece in his breast pocket. He had a black fedora, a fat cigar pinched between his teeth, and a cane that he tapped against the floor a few times.

“What do you think?” he asked, grinning at me around his unlit cigar.

“You look great, Dad.”

He smoothed down the front of his jacket. “Thanks, son. You look fantastic. Ready to go down to the lobby?”

“The lobby?”

“You’re meeting Everly downstairs. And don’t look when you come out. I want you to get the full effect when you come back.”

“All right. I won’t look.”

He led me down the hall and through the curtain. I kept my eyes down as I made my way quickly to the front door, only catching glimpses of black and gold.

“The first guests will be here any minute, but take your time,” he said, ushering me out the door. “The couple of honor should make an entrance.”

“Right. We’ll be up in a little bit, then.”

I went downstairs to wait for Everly, wishing my building had a bar in the lobby. Sitting on a leather couch, I crossed one ankle over my knee and swiped through my emails. People came through the lobby—other residents as well as party guests—but I didn’t pay attention to them. There was only one person I really cared about seeing tonight.

The doors opened again and three women walked in, all dressed for the party. Everly’s friend Nora was on the left, in a deep red fringe dress and a sequined headband in her long dark hair. Hazel was on the right, wearing a similar dress in black, with long black gloves and a pair of glasses perched on her nose.

Between them, dressed in a stunning silver fringe dress, was Everly.

Her blond hair was curled in a vintage wave and her sequined headband had white feathers on one side. Thin straps showed her graceful shoulders and her lips were painted deep red.

I stood, awestruck. She looked incredible. It reminded me of the surprise I’d felt the night of the gala. She’d stunned me in that red dress, and here she was, doing it again.

She was so fucking beautiful.

Her smile was radiant, those red lips begging to be kissed. She stopped, her eyes landing on me, and her smile grew.

“There you are,” she said, breaking away from her friends. She touched the lapels of my jacket. “Don’t you look handsome.”

“You’re stunning,” I said, my eyes sweeping over her. Glancing over at her friends, I nodded. “Ladies.”

“Hi, Shepherd,” Nora said with a little wave.

Everly looked over her shoulder. “You can go on up. We’ll be there in a few.”

“Great. See you up there.”

Her friends headed for the elevator, arm in arm. I turned my attention back to Everly.