Page 89 of The Billionaire Experience

“Tux time.” He kissed her and then left the room.

She put the final touches on her makeup and hair and then stepped into the kitchen. Brody stood at the counter in a tuxedo and a bowtie, adjusting a diamond cufflink. His mustache and facial hair were trimmed, his hair neatly parted.

It struck her that he too had been acting a part. Only he’d dressed for the part of a jeans-and-T-shirt-wearing writer who mowed the lawn and cooked his specialty omelet.

The real Brody Crane belonged in a penthouse. Wearing a tux. Lording over a bustling city and surrounded by the opulence she’d questioned him about earlier.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The Crane Hotel ballroom was modern and classy, with clean lines and glass tables, the color palette stark white and minimalist black. She and Brody arrived early and settled at the bar. She ordered a club soda instead of champagne to settle her nervous stomach.

Dante, dressed sharply in a tux, meandered over. He was a split between his brothers, with a mysterious twinkle in his eye similar to Brody but carrying a regal air like Zander. Dante was far less intimidating than when she’d first met him, either because he’d dropped his guard, or because he was in his element tonight.

“Thank you for coming.” Dante lifted and kissed her hand. “Hard to believe you have tolerated Brody for this long.”

“You remember my brother, double-oh-seven,” Brody said into her ear.

“He’s just jealous because he’ll never be suave.” Dante smirked. “Have your heart set on anything in the silent auction?”

“Oh, uh…” Both sides of the massive ballroom were lined with tables and walls adorned with donations. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“Make sure this one buys you something nice.”

“Hi, guys!” Jaylyn interrupted, giving Dante a quick side hug. “Reagan, what a beautiful gown.”

“Thank you.”

“Is that club soda?” Jaylyn wrinkled her nose. “You’re not sick or pregnant, are you?”

“Jesus, J,” Brody snapped.

“If you’ll excuse me.” Reagan was suddenly feeling hot. She didn’t know if it was the heavy dress or the fatigue, but the ballroom walls seemed to close in on her like the trash compactor in Star Wars. “I’m going to find a restroom.”

“I’ll come with you.” Jaylyn followed as Reagan stepped away from the bar. “I was trying to give Brody a hard time, not insult you with my dumb joke. Sorry.”

“It’s not you.” Reagan knew the youngest Crane hadn’t meant to be offensive. “I met Keaton Killdeer and Alexis Calvin today and I’m feeling…I’m not sure. Out of place, I guess.”

“Understandable. Alexis Calvin is horrid.”

Reagan offered a small smile of agreement. “I’ll just be a minute. Meet you back here?”

“You’re sure?” Jaylyn asked.

“Totally sure.”

“Okay, I’ll be here.”

Outside the ballroom, Reagan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. There was no reason to be intimidated or nervous. She was Brody’s date. She belonged here as much as anyone else. And she wasn’t pregnant, she reminded herself, since her brain was having a heyday with that suggestion.

A blond woman wearing a floor-length white strapless gown sashayed by on the arm of a man. He had longer dark blond hair and a not-from-around-here swagger. The other woman paused, looked Reagan squarely in the eye, and said, “What an exquisite gown.”

“Oh, thank you,” Reagan said.

“Are you a Crane?”

“No.”

“Here with one?” The woman’s unwavering eye contact bespoke confidence and grace.

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