Collide (Collide #1)(123)

She started tapping her temple. "Right, he's in that brain of yours like a little fungus. My brother gets hammered and doesn't freak out on Fallon." Olivia leaned over and poured herself a second glass of champagne. "I've dated plenty of guys who got smashed, and they didn't pull the shit that he pulled with you. I'm sure you've had ex-boyfriends that didn't do that either."

"I didn't really date that much before Dillon," Emily shrugged. "I really have nothing to compare it to."

Olivia's face creased with confusion. "Why would you need something to compare it to, Em? End of f*cking story - drunk or sober, low or high, mad or happy - a guy's not supposed to place a hand on a woman. Ever."

Taking a sip of her champagne, Emily looked away.

"I'm not kidding, Emily. You may think that what your father did to your mom is the norm, but it's not, friend. It's far from it." Swallowing hard at the memory, Emily brought her attention back to Olivia. "I suggest you rid yourself of needing closure from that * because he's just like your dad. Box up the shit he has at our apartment, and I'll have my brother get your stuff from Douche's place." Crossing her legs under her red silk gown, she added, "Thank God you hadn't signed a lease on that apartment you two found."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore tonight," Emily said, her voice teetering between frustration and pleading. "I want to enjoy one evening without thinking about this whole mess with Dillon. Please, Olivia?"

"Okay, but I'm back on your ass come tomorrow then."

Emily let out a sigh and nodded. "That's fine."

Five minutes later, the limousine pulled up to the St. Regis hotel. Marcus opened the door for the women, and each slipped out onto the sidewalk, thanking him for the ride. Pulling her shawl over her shoulders, Emily locked arms with Olivia, and they made their way into the lobby.

After Olivia checked her coat, they floated into the expansive ballroom where the fundraiser was in full swing. Music from a live band hummed through the air while white-gloved waiters traveled the room with flutes of champagne and caviar. The whimsical space held vaulted cloud-dappled ceilings highlighting gilt chandeliers. Soft, pale pink lights, honoring the color of breast cancer awareness, made the white silk material draping the tables look like cascading waterfalls. Beautiful pink roses and carnations sprayed up from glittering mounds of hydrangeas in the center of each table.

The second Emily made her way into the ballroom, her eyes found Gavin's. She also found she had to remind herself how to breathe. A smile broke out across his face as she watched him excuse himself from a group of men he was speaking with. Not only did Emily focus on him as he strolled across the space, but she noticed that the eyes of every other woman in the room also gravitated to him. Young, old, tall, short, black, or white - women couldn't help but stare. He looked amazing, wearing an Armani tux that was tailored to perfection. Sliding his hand through his hair, he crossed the room with a stride that was sexy, powerful, and strong.

Olivia leaned in to hug him when he approached. "Thank you for sending the limo for us," she paused, cocking a mischievous brow while she laughed. "Well, not for us, but either way, it was a nice gesture."

Shaking her head, Emily smiled, feeling a blush creep across her face.

"Of course I sent it for you both," he laughed. "I just never thought to send one before."

"Sure, whatever you say, Blake," Olivia replied, her voice holding playful skepticism. Gavin laughed again. He knew she was onto him. "Where are your parents? I wanna say hello to them."