She nodded, ignoring his warning, a

She nodded, ignoring his warning, and sipped from the flute. The room grew louder as more people arrived. Where was he? Her gaze snagged on a flicker of red and she spotted Nottingham. And there was Lucian, right beside her.
Her molars locked. He wasn’t touching her, but the woman stood stoically by his side, clearly staking her claim to him. Someone must have said something funny. Nottingham laughed and her tiny, scarlet-painted nails caressed the sleeve of his jacket.
Scout finished her champagne and guzzled the water at her place. She was incredibly thirsty for some reason. Magically, a white-gloved hand swept her empty glass away and replaced it with a new one.
Nick reappeared with a glass of dark amber beer. Its heady scent mingled awkwardly with the pure fragrance of roses. “So what happens now? Is it like a wedding? Do we dance after we eat? I’ve never been to anything like this.”
“I’m not sure.”
They each silently sipped their drinks and surveyed the room. “Hey, there’s your guy. You gonna say hello?”
Scout’s gaze didn’t leave them. The more she watched Lucian and Nicole, the more she admitted how beautiful they were together. She didn’t know if she should be happy for him or cry. The champagne was going to her head. She hadn’t eaten much that day and now her bladder was painfully full.
Her mind searched for courage she didn’t have so that she could make it to the ladies’ room. “I need to use the restroom,” she whispered to Nick.
“Okay. Hey, check it out. They have an omelet station. Rich people are funny.”
Nick was wonderful at going with the flow, she decided. She envied how comfortable he was with his station in comparison to the rest of the guests. There were likely others like themselves there, but Scout couldn’t pick them out of the crowd.
Her eyes searched dimly lit doorways around the room and found a sign with fancy script. That could be the ladies’ room. She stood and was relieved her legs were working. However, as she tucked in her chair and took her first step, she swayed with the effects of the four glasses of champagne she’d consumed in the past twenty minutes. She needed to slow down.
She shuffled through the crowd, mindful of some eyes—mostly male—watching her make her journey. She was so afraid Lucian might see her. She didn’t chance looking at him. Head down, she made her way to the door she hoped was the restrooms.
Once she reached the perimeter of the ballroom, it was easier to slink by. She turned into the small hall and spotted a woman coming out of a door. Scout pressed the door wide and breathed a sigh of relief when she found a wall of sinks.
She took care of business and washed her hands. It was jarring, seeing herself in the full-length mirror of the ladies’ room. In her high heels, her legs looked a mile long, especially because her dress was so short. Her butt was a tight little ridge covered in black, and her back was completely bare except for where her hair hung past her shoulders.
“I love your dress.”
She turned and found a woman in a blue cocktail dress washing her hands. “Thank you.”
“I wish I had the guts to wear something like that. Although, I don’t know if my husband would want to leave the house then.” She laughed. “He already gave me an earful about dragging him here again. But what are you going to do? If it was up to him we’d never go anywhere.”
Scout laughed nervously. “Yeah.”
“Well, nice talking to you.” The woman left.
Scout glanced back at her reflection. Shit. She wished there were a service exit so she could sneak out. What was she doing there? Lucian was with a date, and she’d told him to move on. It wasn’t right for her to come spying on him. She didn’t belong there. It was a painful and expensive lesson, but she got it.
She pressed through the door and decided to tell Nick she changed her mind and wanted to leave. Her head was fuzzy and it took her a moment to locate her table. Had something changed in the room? It appeared different from this vantage point. Her footing slipped and she quickly grasped the arm of a man passing by. “Excuse me. Sorry.”
She was drunk. Hopefully the first course would be served soon and she could get something in her stomach before they left. Or maybe they should just hit a diner. Scout looked up and spotted Lucian, smiling as an older woman pulled his lapel to whisper something in his ear. His eyes scanned the room, and when they landed on her it was as though a thousand silent words came crashing down.
His expression fell as their gazes locked. Whatever the woman whispering to him was saying, she was sure he wasn’t listening. His lips parted and Scout could see the questions running through his head as his brow creased. He glanced to her left and right, perhaps looking for her escort.
Her heart raced as her breath came fast. This was a mistake. Maybe if she left before he caught up to her, he’d think it was a case of mistaken identity. He didn’t need to know how immature she was and that she’d come here to spy on him.
He turned to the older woman and appeared to excuse himself. Nottingham straightened like a lap dog prepared to follow her master, but he gestured to her with a steadying movement of his hand to wait and handed her his drink. She looked crestfallen and frowned at the two glasses now awkwardly filling her dainty, manicured hands.
The second he stepped in Scout’s direction, panic set in. She spotted their table and, with as much grace as she could manage, quickly worked her way back to Nick. Her hip bumped into a guest and she apologized quickly, glancing back to see Lucian hot on her tail.
She didn’t bother to take her seat when she reached the table. “Come on. We have to go!”
Nick glanced up at her, startled. “Already? Why?”
“Because—”
“Ms. Keats.”
Nick’s gaze darted over her shoulder. “Holy shit,” he muttered.
Scout swallowed, feeling the blood rush from her face and turned. “Mr. Patras, nice to see you here.”
He scowled. His gaze travelled over her barely there dress and over her shoulder, giving Nick an assessing glare. “I didn’t expect you to be in attendance.”
“It was a last-minute thing.”
“A very expensive last-minute thing,” he muttered. He extended his hand to Nick. “Lucian Patras.”
Nick stood. “Nick Ramsey. Nice to meet you.”
They shook and Lucian turned his gaze back to her, his displeasure at her presence slightly concealed, but very much obvious nonetheless. Her spine stiffened at the indignity of being caught and made to feel foolish. She was mad at herself but linked it all back to the intimidating man staring her down.
Her chin lifted. “You’ll have to introduce me to your date,” she said succinctly.
His lips tightened. “Might I have a word?”
She glanced back at Nick, who shrugged. “I think they’ll be serving dinner soon—”
His fingers wrapped around her arm. It was a casual gesture, but there was steel behind his grip. “Just a moment of your time.”
She barely had a chance to shoot Nick an apologetic glance before Lucian dragged her away from the table. “You’re hurting my arm,” she hissed as he deftly worked his way through the crowd. “Where are we going?”
He didn’t answer. Her feet worked hard to keep up with his clipped pace as he shuffled her down a corridor and out a door. They were in a courtyard when he finally released her. She glared at him, rubbing her arm.
“What are you doing here?” he hissed.
It was her turn to scowl. “Celebrating the Rose Bowl.”
“Do you even know what the Rose Bowl is, Evelyn?”
No. “Yes,” she answered indignantly.
He gave her a look that called her a liar. “Who’s the guy?”
“I believe introductions have been made.”
He stepped closer and she stepped back. “Don’t play games with me. Who is he?”
“A friend,” she quickly relented.
“What kind of friend?”
“Lucian, are we really going to do this?”
“Oh, we’re doing this,” he growled, stepping closer again and causing her to take another retreating pace back. She glanced around the garden. It appeared they were alone.
“I think we should go back inside.”
His eyes narrowed. “That’s some dress you’re wearing.”
“I . . . I misunderstood the formality of the evening.”
“A slight breeze and your nipples will show.”
She uncomfortably crossed her arms over her chest. Damn him. His finger trailed over her bare shoulder, and she shivered.
“You’ve had too much to drink and they haven’t served dinner yet.”
“I’m fine.”
He stepped closer again and she found it impossible to step back. “Why are you here?” he whispered, his fingers gently tugging her arms away.
Her hands tingled and she insisted it was a result of the champagne. The tip of his index finger trailed over the slight swell of her breast, sweeping beneath the billowy fabric and coming dangerously close to her bare nipple.
Unwanted company interrupted the moment. “Lucian?” He stilled and she sucked in a breath. Slowly he lowered his hand and turned.
Nicole Nottingham stood at the door they’d exited, her long arms crossed over her perfect chest as though she had a chill. Scout stepped back. The woman’s face was questioning. Lucian paced back and Scout nearly cried at what the act implied.
Lucian was with Nicole. She was his date and it was inappropriate for them to be out there in the garden alone.
He turned and Nicole walked with the grace of a floating angel to his side. Scout hated her for being so perfect. She glanced at Lucian then to Scout questioningly. “Nicole Nottingham, this is Evelyn Keats.”
The sting at having her name second in the introduction burned through her. She extended her hand and Nottingham did the same, turning her palm downward as though she expected her to kiss it. The shake was a mere gripping of fingers that carried much more class on the other woman’s end.
“A pleasure,” she said slowly then turned to Lucian. “Dinner is about to be served, darling. We should go inside.”
Darling? Scout was going to be sick.