Billion Dollar Revenge (The Lincoln Brothers #2)

14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Chelsea

“Do you think this is the one?” I ask Summer, who is lounging on my bed with her head propped up on her hand.

I stare at her through the full-length mirror, running my hands along the black silk that envelops my body like a second skin. The dress hugs every curve perfectly, the fabric cool and smooth against my flushed complexion.

“Yes, it’ll have Evan drooling, for sure,” she assures, her eyes sparkling with approval.

“Do you think the neckline is too low?” I question further as my fingers trace the edge of the delicate straps.

“No way. It would be too simple without the diamond strap neckline,” she responds confidently. “The diamonds sparkle when they catch the light. It’s perfect.”

It’s brand new; I bought it with Nova and Summer. I trust them, but I’m second-guessing my choice. This event and dress are so out of my comfort zone. I’m used to casual events, not black tie.

“I don’t have anything else to wear anyway, and I don’t have time to go and get something. I still need to finish my makeup.”

Summer sits up on the bed.

I spin around and step barefoot toward my bathroom. “What’s it for anyway?” Summer asks.

I put foundation on my face. “He wants to reward his staff for all their hard work.” Once I’m finished with that step, I add my concealer next.

“Now that’s a freaking boss!” she sing-songs.

An airy laugh bubbles out of me as I pat my undereyes gently with the makeup sponge. “Yeah. I’m taking notes for my studio.”

“I’m sure you are going to come up with your own creative ways to make your staff happy.”

I hum as I concentrate on my eyeliner next, taking my time due to my shaky hands.

She lifts herself up from my bed, turning to leave my bedroom. “Well, I’ll go downstairs if you don’t need me anymore.”

I turn and blurt, “Wait, help me pick my shoes.”

She spins around to face me again, trekking back. “Finish your makeup, and I’ll wait for you.”

I finish with mascara, bronzer, blush, and my mauve lipstick. It doesn’t take long because I wear the same look every day. It's only the eyeliner that is more dramatic tonight.

“Alright, so...” I walk barefoot to my closet and pull out the two stilettos. One black and one silver.

I slip one of each on, then hold up the bottom of my dress and show her.

“The black,” she says, pointing without thinking.

“That’s what I was thinking too. Thanks,” I reply, then slip them on and grab my purse as we head downstairs, awaiting the knock.

Five minutes later, the heavy knock comes, and Summer's eyes flick to mine. She’s wearing a smirk and it doesn’t help calm my nerves.

They’ve met before, and I know she thinks he’s hot. She wants me to hook up with him, and I wouldn’t say I haven’t thought about it. But I just broke up with Bobby, and my work life is in disarray. I need to sort myself out and establish a routine first.

She takes a seat on the sofa, peering over it as I open the door. He looks incredible in a black tux and bow tie, his hair swept back with his natural wave tamed. But it’s not what has me melting on the spot. It’s the smile he’s wearing. He barely smiles. So I can only assume that smile is for me. “You look handsome,” I blurt out.

His gaze seductively caresses my body as if his hands are on me. When he brings his eyes back up, he announces, “And you look beautiful.”

He pushes a bouquet toward me. My mouth opens as I try to get words out. Taking them from his hands, I welcome the warm brush of his touch. I stare at the mix of white roses, white orchids, and a few others. It’s stunning. The subtle fragrance hits the air, and it’s all tied together with delicate lace.

“Thank you. These are so unexpected,” I manage to say after a beat, my voice wobbling slightly.

“When a man picks a woman up for a date, he brings her flowers.”

I feel dizzy, not from his words, but from the light they shine on what I’ve been missing all this time. I’ve never received flowers from anyone, yet Evan is pretending to date me and brings the biggest bunch I have ever seen. This doesn’t feel very fake to me…

His eyes search mine, as if trying to read my thoughts. “Is everything okay?” he asks, concern creeping into his voice.

Suddenly, the bouquet feels heavy. “Yes, everything’s fine. It just…no guy has given me flowers before.”

His eyebrows knit together, and he takes a step closer, the space between us sparking electricity. “Well, you deserve it,” he says. “You deserve so much more.”

The sincerity in his words makes my heart skip a beat, and I clutch the flowers tighter, trying to steady myself. The room closes in around us, the air thick and I open my mouth to respond, but the words catch in my throat.

He reaches out and gently lifts my chin so our eyes meet. “You okay?” he asks again, his voice softer now.

I nod slowly, unable to look away from his intense gaze. “Yeah,” I breathe, my voice barely audible. “I think I am now.”

“Good.” Dropping his hand from my chin, I swallow a whimper at the loss.

“Let me put these in water. Come in,” I say, opening the door and letting him pass. But he stops at the entry and peers down at me before leaning in and kissing my cheek. His lips are soft, but there's a slight scratch on his face from where he’s shaved. I’m weak at the knees when his cologne hits me. It’s so good. I want to douse myself in it.

He pulls back, keeping his head close, his piercing eyes focused on me. I wet my lips, feeling the anticipation building.

Summer clears her throat, breaking our eye contact. Stealing our attention.

I close my eyes and curse in my head. Roommates are fun until moments like this, but as much as my body wants him, I can’t let my body take over my mind.

He straightens and peers over to the living room.

“Summer is here,” I announce in a shaky voice.

He goes silent as his gaze becomes distant. Running his hand through his hair, he pulls away from me. I hope he hasn’t withdrawn into himself again.

I close the door when he strides over to her. He says hello and shakes her hand. Her smile widens as her eyes have that awestruck look that only Evan can give when he’s fully focused on you. Like you're the most important person in the room. It’s compelling and intoxicating.

“Are you ready?” I ask, flicking my gaze from an amused Summer to his bright blues.

“Yeah.” He walks toward me and holds out his arm.

“Have fun, you two,” Summer says in an amused tone.

“Nice seeing you again, Summer,” Evan replies.

I wave at Summer, who winks at me. Shaking my head at her, I walk to the door.

Outside, the air sends a chill down my spine. We approach the car, and his hand on the handle pauses.

“Did you want to go back and grab a jacket?” he asks.

I shake my head. “No. I’d hate to be late.”

He stares at me with an unreadable expression before shaking his head.

My stomach drops. “What?” I ask.

“I’m not used to a woman being on time.”

I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off.

“I don’t mean women I date, but you know,” he rambles in a fluster, and it makes the corner of my lip twitch. He’s cute when he’s rattled.

“I get it.”

We climb into the car and buckle up as the car begins to move.

It’s strange having a driver. I’d never had this experience before I met Evan. I stare out the window, watching the city buildings pass by.

“I like your hair,” he suddenly says. I turn my head to face him. My hand automatically comes up to touch it. It’s not a new hairstyle, but I guess he usually sees me with my hair up.

“Thanks.” Another thing I can’t believe he noticed. I guess the shock in my face tells him as much.

“I notice everything,” he answers my silent question.

I feel my cheeks tingle with heat. I want to change the subject to something safer.

“How are you feeling? You never came to another class.”

“You were serious,” he says, eyes bulging with disbelief.

A soft giggle leaves me as I answer lightly, “Yes. I’m serious, it helps.”

“I could barely move for days,” he murmurs, as if he’s still bewildered from the experience.

I sit up, loving the fact that another person has said Pilates is hard. It’s way harder than it looks. I couldn’t get Bobby to one, so Evan attending a class means something. It proves to me that Evan is willing to take interest in things that are important to me.

The car stops. We unbuckle and get ready to climb out. Evan is already opening my door and holding out his hand.

He’s so attentive, and I love it, but now he’s raising the bar so my standards for men are way higher.

My hand slips into his, and our touch causes my heart to race. His hand is large, warm, and rough. I let go as soon as I’m out of the car and standing. Our connection is too much right now. I need to concentrate on being a good guest for him. I spot the entrance to the exclusive event space, which is in an historic building in Manhattan. My temperature rises with anticipation, the grandness of the venue adding to the gravity of the night ahead.

Glancing at my date , I take a deep breath. This fake dating arrangement seemed like a simple plan at first, but now, standing at the entrance, it feels like so much more. As if I spoke the words out loud, he asks, “Are you ready for this?”

I turn my face toward him, with a reassuring smile.

“Yeah,” I reply through a shaky exhale. “Just remember, we’re supposed to act like we’re crazy about each other.”

He chuckles, encouraging me to link my arm through his. So I do, and touching him again is making my insides flip. There’s this old-school gentleman in Evan that hits me hard in the chest. “I think I can manage that. Let’s go have some fun.”

“Okay,” I sputter out.

We walk closer to the doors of the grand entrance, and before we walk through, he leans in closer, his lips to the shell of my ear, his warm breath against my ear. “Relax. We’ve got this.”

For a moment, the Manhattan noise is all drowned out, and all I can hear is my heartbeat in my ear and feel his breath on my skin.

I nod, hoping he doesn’t notice the slight tremor in my hand. “Right. Just a night pretending.”

His hold on my arm tightens slightly, a comforting gesture that sends a shiver down my spine. “Exactly. And who knows, it might even be fun.”

His heated gaze grips mine, and for a second, I don’t want to go in, wanting to stay alone with him. But he encourages me along.

We step through the doors, and the interior makes my heart race even faster. Chandeliers glimmer above, highlighting sleek modern furniture, and elegant floral arrangements drape from the ceiling. We walk through until we join the crowd inside. Soft Jazz music is playing in the background of the ambient lit room.

I look straight ahead, plastering on a smile, expecting people to be watching us walk in, but it seems every group is too invested in their own conversations. I sigh in relief. Most are dressed in stylish evening gowns and designer suits, holding glasses of alcohol in their hands, while wearing easy smiles. I wasn’t expecting this. People seem to be genuinely happy. No one is happy at a work function. Well, not unless you’re drunk.

“Let’s go to the bar.” He’s not asking, he's telling me, and I love that because I’d kill for some alcohol just to take the edge off.

A server passes with a tray of delectable hors d’oeuvres, and I grab one as Evan walks me over to the bar’s edge so we can be away from prying eyes. A few have noticed him, but he’s shaken his head at them. A silent leave me the fuck alone , and I have to give it to him, they are following his instructions.

He orders us both drinks, without ever having to ask me what I want.

“I don’t expect you to stand by my side the whole night, you know,” I say with a crooked grin while we wait for our drinks.

He turns to face me, staring at me for a long moment. I feel naked under his intense stare. When he speaks, I release the breath I was holding.

“I’m not.”

I clear my throat before I answer, needing to sound stronger than I feel. I wouldn’t mind a second to have a drink and pull myself together. “You can talk to your colleagues, and I can wait here.” I point to the spot I’m standing in.

His hand slips to the small spot on my back. “I’d rather hang out with you,” he says, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, effectively blurring the line of what’s real and what's fake.