Misconduct(7)

Tyler straightened and looked at the woman.

“They’re about to start,” she told him, clutching her small purse in both hands in front of her. “Come inside.”

He nodded. “Yes, thank you, Tessa.”

She cast me a quick look before spinning around and walking back inside the ballroom.

Well, she must not be his wife.

Not that I thought he had one anyway, with no wedding ring, but she’d called him Tyler, which meant she was familiar with him.

I smoothed my dress down and touched my mask, making sure everything was in place.

“She’s a date,” he pointed out. “Not a girlfriend.”

I shook my head, finally looking up at him. “No need to explain,” I said lightly.

I was glad he wasn’t married, but if he wanted to misbehave while he had a date in the next room, that was on him. I wasn’t going to feel embarrassed.

But I was disappointed.

I looked around, avoiding his gaze, and hugged myself, rubbing my arms. The cold had turned bitter, and it sank into my bones now.

I hadn’t wanted the night to end, but it was over now.

I’d liked it when I didn’t know his name. I’d liked it when I was waiting to find out.

He leaned in. “I —”

But then he stopped, looking up with a scowl on his face, as a voice came over the microphone from inside.

“Give me your last name,” he demanded quickly, pinning me with a hard stare.

“Now, what fun would that be?” I replied with his same sarcastic remark.

But he didn’t see it as funny.

He shifted, tipping his head up and listening to the man on the microphone and looking hurried.

Why did he look so nervous?

“Shit,” he cursed, and then leaned in to me, planting his hands on the wall behind my head.

“If you leave,” he warned, “there will be nothing holding me back when we run into each other again.”

A shiver ran through my chest, and my thighs tensed.

But I hid it well.

“In your dreams,” I shot back. “I don’t like lawyers.”

He grinned, straightening and looking down at me. “I’m not a lawyer.”

And with a smug look, he walked past me, back into the ballroom.

I let out a breath, my shoulders falling slightly. Damn it.

I was both sick with disappointment and filled with unspent lust. What an * he was for leading me on when he had someone inside.

I’d acted like I’d known he hadn’t come alone, but I hadn’t really believed it. Perhaps he thought he’d get my number, take her home tonight, and call me tomorrow.

But that wasn’t going to happen.

Sex happened where and when I wanted it. I didn’t wait for men who put me on a menu.

I felt my phone vibrate again, and I ignored it, knowing Jack was probably pissed I’d disappeared for so long.

Stepping into the lively ballroom, with glasses clinking and people laughing, I ignored the speaker on stage when I peered over the crowd and spotted my brother by the tall double doors.

He had on his coat and held mine in his hand, and he looked aggravated. I moved swiftly over to him, turning around so he could put my wrap on me.

“Where were you?” he complained.

“Playing,” I mumbled, not even trying to hide the teasing in my voice.

The speaker onstage droned on, slurring his words, and the audience laughed at his jokes, everyone else drunk enough to find them funny.

“Well, I want to get out of here before the NOPD parade comes down Bourbon,” Jack reminded me, and then turned to fiddle with his phone.

I’d forgotten about the parade.

At midnight on Mardi Gras, the New Orleans Police Department – in their fleet of horses, dogs, ATVs, cars, trucks, and officers – walked the entire length of Bourbon, clearing the streets, an act that signaled the end of Mardi Gras and the beginning of Lent.

Partygoers filtered down the side streets only to return as soon as the police had passed by. We had gotten a hotel room on Decatur for the night to avoid traffic back to school in Uptown, but we needed to hurry if we were to get through the crowd before the police blocked our route.

“Come on,” he urged, making his way out the doors while I began to follow.

“So, ladies and gentlemen!” the loud voice boomed behind me. “Please help me welcome a man who I hope will soon be announcing his candidacy for the United States Senate next year!” Everyone started clapping as he shouted, “Mr. Tyler Marek!”

I spun around, my eyes rounding as I saw the man who had just pinned me against a wall outside step onto the stage.

Holy shit.

“Damn, I didn’t know he was here,” my brother said, coming up to my side.

“You know him?” I asked, glancing at my brother before turning back to the stage.

“You’ve never heard of Tyler Marek?” he scolded. “He owns the third largest construction company in the world, Easton. Rumor has it, he’s running for the Senate next year. I wish I could’ve met him.”

A politician?

Jesus. I’d stepped into that one.

I should’ve been embarrassed. These people were clearly his friends – or associates – and the ball was, at least in some small part, in his honor. I’d insulted the food, the attendees, and while everyone seemed to know exactly who he was, I’d had no idea.