His eyes sweep over my body appreciatively before finally reaching my face.
“Hi,” he says, ignoring Cleo. “I’m Bentley. Let’s go get you a real drink.”
Cleo gives me a subtle nudge. Tucking a loose wave behind my ear, I allow Bentley to lead me toward the bar downstairs. He’s attractive enough. Blond with the kind of natural highlights that suggest he spends a lot of time on the water. Blue eyes, strong jaw. The top buttons of his black shirt are undone, the hem tucked into designer jeans that hug an athletic frame. Pretty basic, but maybe there’s more to him than meets the eye. One can hope.
His hand presses lightly into the small of my back as weweave our way through the crowd. While we wait for our drinks at the bar, a woman rushes up to us and whispers in Bentley’s ear before giggling and darting away. He looks sideways at me.
“What was that about?”
He shrugs. “She thought I didn’t know who you were.”
“Who am I?” My heart sinks. I’m dreading the answer.
“Piper-Lily Barclay. Of the recently shamed banking Barclays, though perhaps going forward your family will be known as the embezzling Barclays. Doesn’t quite have the same ring, does it?”
I’m speechless at first, my blood gone ice cold.
“Don’t worry. I’m not bothered,” he says breezily. “In fact, it brings me to my point.”
I step back, on my guard now. “Which is what?”
The bartender slides our drinks across the bar and Bentley nods, tossing a wad of cash on the bar top. Then he turns back to me, a smirk on his face.
“I’m offering you a fuck, no strings attached,” he says. “This doesn’t have to be a one-time deal, either. We can work something out. Not dating, obviously—nobody with a halfway decent reputation would risk being seen out in public with you. But I’d be happy to warm your bed, Piper. Trust me, you won’t regret it.”
With that, he takes a swig of his drink and tries to pass me mine.
But I don’t take the glass.
Because I’m frozen in place as I suddenly realize the truth of the matter—it’s not that guys don’t want me anymore. They just don’t want to have arelationshipwithme anymore. They’re more than willing to sleep with me still, but that’s all I’m going to get from them.
So much for trying to sell myself as a trophy wife.
I storm away without another word, leaving Bentley amidst the mass of bodies waiting to get drinks. My eyes sting as humiliation courses through me. A tight smile wavers on my lips as I struggle to maintain control. I just need to get back to Cleo, where I’m safe.
But when I get back up to the balcony, my best friend is nowhere to be found. Everyone is staring at me. At least, that’s how it feels. I have to get out of here.
Not really sure where I’m going, I head downstairs and end up consumed by the crowd on the dance floor. A waitress comes by with a tray of shot glasses. I manage to grab one and toss it back without spilling it and snag one more before she moves away. Tequila.
“You look amazing.”
Another male voice over my shoulder. Tossing back the second shot, I pull a breath through my nose and prepare myself for disappointment. I’m going to turn around, and once he sees who I am he’s going to run away like I'm contagious.
“Thanks,” I say without turning around, projecting that I’m not interested.
“I love your dress,” he adds. His body heat covers my back.
The pump of the music thrums through me and I find myself swaying to the beat. “Thanks. I got it at Goodwill.”
Go. Away.
He laughs and moves in front of me. A tall, broad body takes up all the space in front of me and the next thing Iknow, we’re swaying and dancing together. I have to look up to see his face and…damn, it’s a nice face. Dark skin, darker hair, midnight eyes. He’s built like a linebacker but there’s a shine of kindness in his gaze that softens any rough edges.
“I’d be lying if I said I know what Goodwill is. Some fancy boutique on Madison Ave that all the ladies are shopping at these days?”
Jesus. “Yes,” I placate him. “That’s the one.”
He grabs a couple shots from another passing server and hands me one. “Cheers.”