The Frame-Up (The Golden Arrow #1)(57)
Then Nina screeches inches from my ears. The finale of the song washes back into my reality, and Matteo and I lean apart. I study Matteo, not for the first time feeling like I’m on a roller coaster where he’s concerned. Striking a balance between the case and my personal feelings gets harder and harder to manage. If he were a normal guy, I’d definitely invite him as my date to the work thing later this month. Matteo in a cape? Oooh, yes, please.
“You’re a million miles away. What are you thinking about?” Matteo’s face is still far too close for professional conversation.
“The gala at my job.” I take myself by surprise by admitting this. I need to get him out the door, not talk about this right now. It’s as if Matteo’s presence continually inspires my candor, whether I want it to or not. I am far more truthful with him than practically anyone else in my life, save Lawrence and Ryan, at least until this case fell in my lap.
“Okay . . .” He frowns, not following.
“I think it would make more sense if you came to my work party.”
Matteo’s eyebrows rise—I’ve taken him by surprise with the change in direction too.
The can of worms is open, so I decide to roll with it. “It will be fun, I promise.” Okay, maybe I’m trying to convince myself as well as him. “Costumes, capes, contests, all the free booze you can imagine. I mean, of course it’s so you can check out more Genius folks, now that we don’t think it’s Kyle or Simon.”
Matteo taps the table with his fingers before replying, his face looking strangely torn. “Are you asking me to come with you to your work party?”
“Yes, Captain Obvious. I just said that.”
Matteo searches my eyes in that “more than professional” manner again that makes my heart turn to electric goo. “No, I mean, are you asking me to the work party for you or for the case?”
Applause fills the air around us as yet another act finishes up. I haven’t even heard the song or seen the performer—the world always falls away when I’m with Matteo. I’m also not sure how to respond to his question. I’m not going to lie to myself; I want Matteo to come with me. I want to see him in a hot comic-inspired costume. I want to dance with him, laugh with him, do a normal couples-type thing with him . . . Only we aren’t a normal couple.
We’re a pretend couple, and we’re trying to solve a thirty-year-old mystery. Unless I make a move. My thoughts distill. This may be my opportunity to change the pretend part, even if we have to wait until after the case is over to follow through. That’s assuming we all live through this and no one gets arrested. I am not wearing a jumpsuit; orange clashes terribly with my hair.
I put on my big-girl panties and answer him honestly. There’s that candor thing again. “Both.”
He lets out a breath, and I see relief mixed with another emotion on his face. Anxiety? He reaches over and puts his hand on my knee like he did while watching Star Wars, and he gives it a small squeeze before returning it to the table. “Deal.”
My heart stutters in my chest again. He’s glad I asked him for me and not just for work.
“Wasn’t that wonderful, ladies and gents? Another round of applause. You’re really going to love this next one too, but first, I wanted to say a special hello to my dearest friend . . .” Gold sequins glint in the spotlight, and my attention is drawn to Latifah as she struts back onto the stage . . . and the double take she does when she lays eyes on Matteo. Uh-oh. This is definitely not when L usually reappears. Not the night to go off script. This could be bad. So, so bad. Here I am trying to keep these two apart, and Latifah is literally going to land in our laps. I can only pray that Matteo doesn’t recognize Lawrence in drag.
I smile grimly as a vision in gold sequins sashays across the crowded floor in our direction. “I guess you’re about to meet my friend, Latifah.”
I see understanding dawn on his face the moment before he turns in the booth and comes face-to-bustier with Latifah. I say my prayers.
“Hello, sugar,” she purrs into the microphone. “It seems my sweet girl here has brought Atlanta brisket for dinner instead of a hamburger.” The crowd roars with good-natured laughter as Latifah makes a big show of sizing up Matteo’s shoulders.
She holds up one hand, showing off her long golden nails. “Don’t you know this is a bachelorette party? You are being very naughty by crashing it. Should I send you to my room?”
She winks at me, then squeezes Matteo’s shoulders one more time before doing a dramatic shiver and wandering back to the stage. “Whew, I am burning up in here. This man sandwich is hot!” She throws another wink back at me. “You just let me know if you need help with it, sugar.” She sashays back up to the stage.
Matteo is beet red now; I can even tell in the dark. Even as much as I’m freaking out, this is hilarious. I try not to laugh, but it’s difficult when the table literally shakes with the mirth of the other girls.
“You should see your face,” Nina says in gasps. Then she reaches around me and grabs Matteo’s hand. “But you are such a good sport about it.”
He really is. I offer him a small smile. “Okay, now we might be even for you crashing my evening.” I relax just a little, realizing that Matteo doesn’t recognize Lawrence as Latifah.
He rubs a hand over his hair and over the scruff on his cheeks. “You drive a hard bargain.”