Ten Days of Perfect (32 page)

“Play nice.” Bo playfully kicked me under the table.

Ainsley Worthington, all five-foot-four, strawberry blonde, and ice-blue eyes of her, walked toward us with what I now knew to be a cheerleader smile.

“Hey Bowan! I didn’t know you’d be out tonight!”
Ainsley cheered . . .
cheered.

Is that octave truly necessary? Force a smile, Ember- smother her later.

“Yeah, I know it’s a ‘school night’, but Ember and I have a pretty big meeting tomorrow so we’re trying to loosen up beforehand.” Bo reached across
the table and grabbed my hand.

Activate launch sequence.

Ainsley’s eyes immediately shot to our hands, then my eyes, then his eyes, and back to our hands. She took a deep breath and swallowed hard.

“Ahem,” she cleared her throat and tried to pry her eyes from our hands to my eyes, “Ember, is it?”

Here we go.

“Yes, it is. November Harris, actually, pleased to meet you Ainsley.” I broke my grip from Bo and stuck my hand out.

“That’s an . . . interesting name.” Her dead-fish grip held mine for a split second before she clasped her hands in front of her.

“Thank you!”
Two can cheer.

Ainsley speared her eyes in to mine before looking slowly to Bo, who nodded almost imperceptibly to her.

“Well, I’ve got to get back to my girls, see ya later.” She walked quickly back to her gaggle of friends.

“Jesus, I’ve never seen her back down like that before. Well done Ms. Harris.” Admiration oozed from Bo’s pores.

“It’s the dress. Told you it’s a good one.”

As the second glass of champagne numbed my mouth, I noticed a large man across the dance floor. He seemed to be making his way toward us with a cocky smile on his face.

“Is that a friend of yours?” I shouted over the now blaring thumps of Ludacris.

When Bo glanced over his shoulder he released my hand and his shoulders sank for a minute. “That’s Bill Holder.”

“He’s an enormous son of a bitch; did he play football with you?” The hair on the back of my neck stood higher the closer Bill came.

“He played, but not with me, he’s Rachel’s age. Let me warn you, he’s great at what he does for DROP, but he’s a massive asshole
- real cocky.”

While Bo’s tone tried to be playful, it made me edgy. I suddenly wished for a shawl to cover myself with, especially when Bill’s eyes settled on me. His imposing shadow strapped my shoulders against the booth and my pulse raced. I let out a long-held breath as he smiled
- rather arrogantly
- and gripped Bo’s shoulders.

“Hey brother, what’s goin’ on?” Bill sat, uninvited, next to Bo, who rolled his eyes.

Seeming to ignore his inquisition, Bo nodded in my direction, “Bill, this is November Harris from The Hope Foundat
ion. She’s their grant writer.”

Bill extended his massive hand across the table and, quickly, I put on my best business smile and returned the greeting, “Nice to meet you. Can I call you Bill?”

“Absolutely,” he said unctuously.

The vibration from my phone made me jump half way out of the seat; it was a text from Monica.

Monica:
Hey Em! See you tomorrow, how’s your weekend been?

I smiled politely at Bill and Bo before I padded my text back.

Me:
Weekend’s been great. Wait till you meet Rachel, Bo’s sister- she’s a riot. I actually just met Bill (William) Holder, their grant writer . . . he kind of gives me the creeps- huge guy. How are things with Josh?

Monica:
Things are good, almost back to where they were :) Kick that Bill guy in the nuts if he acts like an asshole!

Me:
Will do :-*

“So, Bill, Bo tells me you played football?”
Maybe if I get him talking more he won’t creep me out so much.

“Fuckin’ right I did, State Champs, baby!” While his smile was genuine, his voice didn’t settle right in my gut.
Something is off.

“If you gentlemen will excuse me, I have to use the restroom.” I forced a smile and slid carefully out of the booth; fighting the growing urge to run.
From what?

Bo’s eyes followed me all the way out of the booth and, I assumed, down to the bathroom. When I entered the bathroom I cursed my makeup for preventing me from splashing water on my face, like I so desperately wanted to. Instead, I took a few cleansing breaths against the cold tile of the bathroom wall, thankful for my backless dress. I picked up my phone and dialed Adrian’s number; he answered on the first ring.

“Hey Em, did you get my text? I’m running late.”

“No I didn’t.
Shit
.” The gong of my heartbeat started to reach my ears.

“Everything OK?”

“Um, I just met Bill Holder. He’s talking to Bo and I’m in the bathroom. He kind of gives me the creeps, Adrian . . .”

“Did he say or do anything to you?” Panic shot through the phone and closed my throat.

“No . . .why? Adrian, what’s going on, does this have anything to do with-”

“Ember, I’ll be there as soon as I can, just relax and hang with Bo, OK?”

“Where the hell are you anyway?” I couldn’t calm myself down.

“On my way back from Portsmouth.”

“Jesus, Adrian, that’s like an hour away!”

“Relax, I’m more than half way there. Met up with some friends at Smuttynose and the afternoon got away from us.” He sounded far more relaxed than I needed him to be. “Everything’s fine, Blue.  Be there soon.”
Blue. He keeps doing that.

He hung up without a goodbye and I was left, still near-panting, in the bathroom.
Blackmail, I meant to say blackmail to Adrian before he cut me off. Did he know that? Does he know something? Shit. Game face on, Ember.

As I swung open the door with renewed confidence, Bo’s figure in the doorway startled me.

“Shit!” I screamed.

“You OK? You’re acting anxious.” He placed his hand on my shoulder, his sweaty palm did not go unnoticed
- nor did it help calm me down.

“Get in here.” I yanked the buttons on Bo’s shirt.

“Ember, what the hell, this is the woman’s bathroom-”

“Bill Holder has something to do with your sister’s blackmail, doesn’t he?” I hissed, pressing my hand against the bathroom door.

Sweat beaded on Bo’s forehead and the color drained from his face “Ember . . .”

“
Doesn’t it?
That dude gives me the serious fucking creeps, Bo,
and
you called him a massive asshole. I had to ask myself, why would Bo have someone working for
his
organization who is a massive asshole?”

“It’s not . . . holy shit . . .” Bo paced over to the sink and splashed water on his face.
Must be nice.

“Look, I’m not going to say anything and I won’t act any different to him out there, but I can tighten my guard around him for sure. Adrian didn’t sound too pleased-”

“You called Adrian?” He growled through clenched teeth.

“Yes, psychopath. I called Adrian because Bill scared me and I wanted to know how soon Adrian was getting here.”

“Why couldn’t you tell me instead, Ember? Why did you have to run to Turner?” He stared into the empty sink, gripping it.

“No, this isn’t going to turn into an Adrian vs. Bo thing. Does Bill have something to do with the blackmail? Just give me an answer and I’ll drop it till later when we can talk about it at your house.” I placed my hand on his steaming hot back.

“Yes. He does. And, it’ll be all over soon, so don’t worry about anything, OK?” With his head still hanging, he turned to look at me. His eyes were shrouded in exhaustion.

“OK, I trust you. Can we please go drink heavily now? That’s the only
way I can be around Bill Holder
.”

Bo’s face warmed again against my words of reassurance.

“O
K
Rock Star, just don’t tumble in those nosebleed heels like you did the last time you wore them,” he chuckled as he led me to the dance floor.

“Deal, as long as you don’t let me go home with anyone else like the last time I wore them.” I shot my eyebrow sky high.

“Cold, Ember. Real Cold,” he feigned hurt while theatrically grabbing his stomach.

On the way to the dance floor, we stopped by the bar and I opted for a cosmopolitan. One glance at the crowded bump-and-grind told me my drink wouldn’t last two seconds out there before ending up down the front of my dress. With a smirk I poured the ice cold drink down my throat in one gulp, grateful for the instant calming effects of vodka.

“What, you want a repeat performance of that dog place?” Bo asked, referring to Lost Dog
-the night Adrian took me home.

“I don’t want those assholes spilling my drink.” I nodded to the dancing fools. “Get me one more and I’ll be
set to go out and tear it up.”

One more gulp of a cosmopolitan restored my equilibrium-and buried my inhibitions. Bo and I swung freely across the dance floor, though I couldn’t seem to shake Bill’s eye as he leaned back with his elbows up on the bar.

“I meant it, you know,” Bo’s lips on my ear caught my attention over Bill.

“Meant what?” I stopped dancing and grabbed his hips.

“Forever.”

I staggered back, feeling the equal effects of the uneasy feeling in my stomach and the vodka.

“I meant it too, Bo . . . we’ll just have to navigate it-”A tiny hand wrapping over Bo’s shoulder stopped me.

Ainsley.

“Bo, can I steal you away for a minute?” Seduction was her game.

“Go ahead Babe, I need another drink anyway,” I said, my eyes unmoving from Ain
sley as I asserted my position.

Bo shot me a look of sardonic thanks as he moved across the dance floor with Ainsley. I turned back to the bar and ordered another cosmopolitan while I avoided the sight of them. I knew who he’d be going home with tonight; poor Ainsley.

“So, November, are you and Bo, like, a thing?” Bill Holder shouldered next to me and I could feel the steel of his arm muscles pulse in to me.

That was
exactly the
kind of
question I was hoping t
o avoid until after the meeting
tomorrow. So, I shook my head dismissively.

“Not really.” I opted to look him straight in the eye.

“Oh, well, in that case, can I have this dance?” He placed his arm loosely around my middle.

Shit.

“I’d like to finish my drink first if you don’t mind.” I twirled out of his hold as fluidly as I could and leaned my front against the bar.

“Sweet moves, November.” Bill wasn’t going to go down easy. He stood next to me but put one hand on the bar across my back.

Perfect, now you’re trapped against the bar.
With one more turn I faced Bill, and looked over to Bo and Ainsley, who had no idea what was happening between me and Bill.

“I’m set, Bill, but thanks.” I chanced rolling my eyes, not knowing if it would set him off.

“Hey Bill, what’s up?” A young man with a much calmer voice and sunnier disposition bounded beside Bill, slapping him on the back.

He was significantly shorter than Bill, and far less threatening looking. He had short bouncy blonde curls that gave me some sort of comfort.

“This gorgeous lady, here, is the grant writer for The Hope Foundation, and came here on Bo’s arm tonight,” Bill sneered.
Sneered.

Chills exploded up my spine and bile bubbled in my throat as I forced myself to believe I was hallucinating the reason
why
Bill gave me such bad feeling.

“If she came with Bo, Bro, you better keep your hands off,” his friend said in an eerily calming tone that inexplicably also gave me a bad feeling.

“Don’t be such a pussy, dude, like I’d piss
Bo off in here.” Bill gestured
with his hands.

An auditory memory pulsed through my ears;
Max, just get in the truck if you’re going to be a useless pussy.

No, it couldn’t be.

I turned one more time so my back was to Bo, but I was no longer pinned against the bar.

“Take it easy, Bill, just trying to save your hide
.
”
H
is friend elbowed him playfully in the ribs.

He’ll be here Bill, just take it easy.

Impossible.

Flashes of the night at the garage almost two weeks ago whipped wildly through my head; changing frames with each thump of the bass from the speakers. Bill sounded identical to the violent Bill from behind the garage
- all that was missing was his calmer sidekick, Max.

Clearly I’d had too much to drink and my mind was playing tricks on me. Bill’s imposing stature and snarling voice set off warning bells in my head, but he was a creepy looking guy
anyway
. I shook my head in
an attempt to think rationally.