But as pretty as I felt, I doubted Noah would notice. Polly was right—he seemed to be pissed off at the world, and I had no idea why. He hadn’t even touched me since that night in the music room, the night we’d made the most beautiful music I’d ever had the pleasure of hearing, our bodies and his piano the only instruments in the orchestra. I had to giggle-snort at myself because that sounded corny as all get out even in my own head, but it was true.
I missed him.
When he’d come home from his “business meeting” he didn’t wake me. Unusual for him, disheartening for me, devastating for the Cooch. Polly had told me that Mason had said he took off from his office like a bat out of hell with no indication whatsoever of where the fire was. He hadn’t answered his calls, not even mine, until I’d texted him.
“Did you hear me?” Polly asked in that heeeellloooo-o tone. Oh, right, daydreaming again.
“Um, yeah?” I asked, rather than stated.
“What did I say?” Polly had her hands on her hips and her head tilted to the side with her “you’re in big trouble if you don’t come up with the right answer” look.
“Noah lost his sight because the dress knocked him out and he wrote the world into his will,” I repeated. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t spot on, but it had to have been close, right?
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Get your shoes on. The boys are waiting.”
I slipped into my heels and grabbed my clutch before following the little yapping Chihuahua that was Polly out the door and down the first set of stairs. I stopped when I reached the first landing, stunned into silence when I saw Noah. He was perfect from head to toe. Black tux, white dress shirt, black shoes, and pretty face all present and accounted for. The man made it look so easy.
He looked up toward the landing where I stood. He almost turned back around, but did a double take instead. Ah, so I had caught his attention after all. He smiled awkwardly as I descended the staircase and ran his hands through his hair before he took my hand.
“You are stunning,” he said, and then kissed the back of my hand like a real Prince Charming. I realized then just how much Cinderella and I had in common. Like her, I was just a girl from the working class living out a beautiful fantasy. Only instead of a fairy godmother I had a two-year contract.
Noah’s smile broadened when he saw the Crawford cuff bracelet on my wrist, and then suddenly he dropped my hand and the smile was gone. He cleared his throat awkwardly and tucked his hands in his pockets before saying, “Okay, so we should go.”
Polly cleared her throat in turn, totally inconspicuously—yeah, right—and when Noah looked in her direction, she quickly tilted her head toward me while patting her throat.
“Oh!” Noah said, finally getting the very obvious hint. “I got a little something for you.” He reached into his pocket and brought out a thin platinum chain. When he held it up, I could see the simple blue diamond dangling from the center.
“Oh, Noah. You really shouldn’t have.” Jesus, I even sounded like Cinderella, but that was what the man did to me.
Noah shrugged but didn’t look at me. Instead he focused his attention on the clasp of the chain. “It really isn’t a big deal. You deserve …” He sighed and finally lifted his head with a look of certainty in his eyes, “so much more.”
That was odd. Especially considering the way he’d been treating me for the past couple of days, as if I had the plague.
Noah walked behind me and lightly brushed the bare skin of my back with his chest as he clasped the necklace in place. Before he stepped away, his fingers swept across my naked shoulders, sending chills down my spine.
I put my hand on his forearm to stop him from walking away. “Thank you,” I whispered, and then I stood on my tiptoes to give him a soft kiss. When I stepped back, I noticed the muscles in his jaw tensing like he was grinding his teeth.
I really didn’t understand what his problem was. Until two days earlier he’d been all over me like he couldn’t get enough. And now it was a complete one-eighty. I didn’t know if he was disgusted with me, if I’d done something to tick him off, or what. But I knew one thing: he most certainly was starting to tick me off. Then again, maybe that was the point. Since finding out about Julie, I’d been trying to put my bitchy side away and play nice. Maybe he didn’t like that side of me. Maybe he hadn’t changed. Maybe I was the one who had, and the new me just didn’t work the same for him.
Fine.
I stuck my chin out, dropped my hand from his arm, and started for the door. And then I realized no one was following.
So I turned, looked at them, and said, “Well? What are we waiting for? Let’s get this over with.”
~$~
The ride in the limo was quiet. Polly and Mason had driven themselves to the ball, in case either we or they wanted to leave early. Noah sat on one side of the limo, smoking a cigarette while he stared out the window. Translation: he was torturing me with the whole “watch me make love to this cigarette while I ignore you” vibe he had going on.
And then the real torture began.
People. Lots and lots of people. And cameras. Flashbulbs were going off everywhere as we walked down the red carpet to whatever fancy venue was hosting Chicago’s elite. People were yelling and shoving, vying for position to get a better shot. And the center of attention? Noah Crawford—and his date. I kept my face hidden behind his wide shoulders or just turned away in general. Noah kept his arm around my waist as he smiled and posed, waved and greeted the hordes of people while still managing to completely ignore the probing question, “Who’s the beautiful woman on your arm tonight, Noah?” until finally we were out of the chaos and inside, where the party was in full swing.
I was relieved, but then Polly took her place by my side and said, “You ready to go inside?”
“I thought we were inside,” I asked, looking around.
“Silly girl. This,” she said as she opened a set of double doors, “is the Scarlet Lotus Ball.”
Wow. The place was huge, not that I was surprised. Everything Noah did was huge. There were red lotus flowers all over: floating in glass bowls filled with water and candles, in bouquets, everywhere. Silky red banners were draped from the ceiling, complementing red tablecloths and red bows; it looked like a beautiful massacre had taken place in the room. Champagne ran in fountains. No, seriously, there were champagne fountains, in addition to two dozen or so servers strategically roaming the open room with trays of flutes filled with liquid gold. Which probably explained why the people were so lively. Too damn lively.
The attendees were gorgeous, all of them dressed in elegant gowns and tuxedos worth more than the monthly household income of most of the residents in my hometown. It even smelled like money in there. The social hierarchy had a way of reminding people of their place when it came right down to it. Noah had never made me feel less than adequate, but then again, he and I had never really been out in plain sight like this before. Until tonight it had only been the two of us going at it like bunnies in the privacy of his gargantuan abode. Now, in the midst of his real-life friends, I saw the score clearly. If I hadn’t felt completely out of Noah’s league before, I most certainly did now.
“Welcome to my world,” Noah whispered into my ear before taking my elbow and leading me through the crowd. “There are some people I want you to meet.”
Jesus. I was going to screw up big-time. I just knew it.
“Noah! I was waiting for you,” this little bouncing brunette screeched as she sidled up to him. She looked like she’d
already had one too many drinky-poos, if you asked me. “Oh, you brought a date? I didn’t realize you were seeing anyone.”
“Mandy, just because we’re outside the office, it doesn’t mean I cease to be Mr. Crawford,” Noah told her in a firm voice. Just then, a waiter came by with a tray of champagne. He grabbed one flute and handed it to me, then took another for himself.
“Oh, right. Sorry,” Mandy said, chastened. And then the sizing up began. Judging by the way she scrunched up her nose and faked a smile, I’d say she’d seen through the illusion that I belonged on Noah’s arm. “Who’s she?”
“She is none of your business. Now, run along and find another drink, Miss Peters.” He dismissed her with a wave of his hand.
She gave me one last nasty look, and I leaned into Noah with an adoring smile on my face to spite her.
“Oh! There’s Lexi and Brad!” Polly squeaked, pointing toward a stunning couple a mere few feet away. I managed to snag another glass of champagne before she grabbed my wrist and practically yanked my arm out of the socket to make our way over to the world’s most beautiful couple. Noah got stopped by some suits, but Polly, determined little shit that she was, kept chugging along.
“Lexi!” Polly squealed, finally dropping my arm to run up to the leggy redhead and hug her. This chick had to have been the woman they modeled Jessica Rabbit after. She was built like a brick shithouse: flawless skin, huge tits, tiny waist, pouty red lips. I almost expected to hear the Commodores interrupt the uppity snore music that was currently playing.
“Oh, Brad!” the gargantuan guy next to her trilled in a girly voice, mocking Polly as he batted his lashes and waved his wrists in the air. “I’ve missed you so, and you’re my favorite person. Ooh! Let me feel you up, too!”
Polly broke the embrace with the brick shithouse and stared him down while said brick shithouse smacked him in the back of his head. “Don’t be an ass, ass. We have company,” she said, nodding toward me with a curious look.
“Oh, yeah. This is—”
Noah cut her off, suddenly appearing as if out of nowhere. “Delaine. My Delaine.” He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me into him possessively. “Delaine, this is my favorite cousin, Alexis, and her husband, Brad Mavis.”
“You can just call me the Gentle Giant,” Brad said.
“He’s a starting defensive tackle in the NFL,” Noah clarified.
“Damn straight,” Brad boasted, puffing out his chest.
“Lexi is his fearsome agent,” Noah continued with a nod in her direction. “I think she scares him more than any of those blood-sucking contract negotiators.”
“Someone’s gotta keep him in line. Besides, he likes the rough stuff.” Lexi smirked.
“Nice to meet you,” I said as I offered my hand toward Lexi in greeting. “Noah has told me absolutely nothing about you.” I laughed awkwardly.
“Likewise,” Lexi said, shaking my hand. One might think the whole “likewise” bit was in regard to the pleasantries, but I had a feeling she meant that as an answer on both accounts—Noah hadn’t said anything about me either, which made sense, just not to them.
“So, Patrick, have you seen Mom and Dad?” she asked Noah.
I looked at Noah with my brows raised in question.
He knew right away what the look was for. He rolled his eyes in embarrassment before saying with a shrug, “Everyone in my family has always called me by my middle name. It was just the easiest way to differentiate between me and my father without having to call us Noah senior and Noah junior.”
“Of course,” I said. Details like that were probably something he should’ve shared before introducing me to his family as “my Delaine,” but who was I to say? I sucked back half of the champagne in my glass, my nerves getting the best of me.
“And no, Lexi, I haven’t seen them yet,” Noah continued, looking through the crowd as if trying to rectify that situation.
“Well, they’re around. I’m sure they’ll eventually make their way back over,” she said with a wave of dismissal. “You know how Daddy can be at these functions.”
Brad, Mason, and Noah started up a conversation about some sports team that I was paying absolutely no attention to because Noah was rubbing circles on the small of my back with his thumb while his pinky dipped beneath my dress to rest in the crevice of my ass. Polly and Lexi were chatting it up, a conversation to which I had nothing to contribute because I didn’t have a clue about the gossip in their circle of friends. So I did the only thing I could: I preoccupied myself with a game of Let’s See if I Can Drink All of My Champagne Before the Next Tray Comes Around with More, and I was winning. It was no small feat. There were lots and lots of trays.
Noah leaned down and whispered into my ear. “Pace yourself, kitten.” Which made my head swim. Funny, I’d just had
four, maybe five glasses of champagne, and I was fine. But the man called me “kitten,” and I was suddenly unequivocally inebriated.
“I have to pee,” I blurted out. The conversations around me came to a sudden halt and all eyes turned to me. I supposed that what I’d said wasn’t very ladylike, and certainly not the sort of thing a woman dating Noah Crawford would say out loud. Noted.
Lexi laughed. “I have to pee, too. Come on, Polly. Sounds like we need to hit the head.”
“I swear, Lexi,” Polly said with a disapproving scowl, then turned to me. “She may look like a debutante, but don’t let that fool you. She’s a rude, crude dude underneath all that glitz and glamour.”
“That’s my girl,” Brad crowed as he smacked her on the ass and sent her on her way.
“Hurry back,” Noah’s husky voice floated across the sensitive skin beneath my ear. “I want you by my side all night.” He pressed his soft lips against my neck inconspicuously, but I definitely felt that kiss and it melted me like butter over a stack of hotcakes.
“Jesus, Patrick. We’re just going to the damn bathroom. I promise not to scare her off,” Lexi said with a roll of her eyes.
He scoffed. “Good luck with that. I think you’ll find Delaine is quite capable of withstanding your witty charm.”
“Fuck you,” Lexi retorted.
“I love you, too, dear cousin.” Noah smiled and then winked at me before he took a sip of his champagne and turned back to the guys.
As we made our way across the crowded hall to the ladies’ room, Lexi stopped short. “Look what the dog dragged in,” she said under her breath as she nodded to our right.
There was a huge mountain of a man with slick black hair, tanning-bed-bronzed skin, mutton chops, and super bright teeth standing in the middle of a crowd of people across the way. Women were fawning all over him, and somehow he managed to pay equal attention to each one. He certainly possessed a great deal of animal magnetism.