Page 19 of Hook Up

Silence from the other end of the line. Never a good sign.

“Greg, I’m serious. I have no desire to see that man.”

“I get you hate him, even though I don’t know why, but this is my wedding. You have to be there. It’s a law or something.”

I huff out a breath, resigned to my fate. He’s right, and I know he’s right. I’d be a shit and a half if I missed Greg’s wedding because of a guest who ghosted me eight years ago. “I’m sorry. I’m being stupid.” Tapping my hand along the table, I force out the next question. “It is Ryder that’s coming, isn’t it?”

“Yes. He phoned yesterday and told me he had a change of plans. He’s also standing up with me—”

Groaning into the receiver, I hang my head. Wonderful. Now I not only have to see Ryder, but I have to interact with him.

“What is your deal with him, anyway? You act like he broke your heart or something. Ryder has always had a thing for you, Gigi.”

“Not anymore,” I mutter. “That was years ago.”

And only for a few brief, wonderful hours, at that.

“He sounded pretty damn excited when I told him you were single. You should take advantage of that fact.” Greg chuckles. “I can’t believe I just intimated my sister needs to get laid.”

I scoff at Greg’s statement. Ryder Gray is glad I’m single? That means one thing—he’s eager to finish the conquest he started all those years ago. Probably thinks I’m an easy lay, and he won’t have to wine and dine me like his Hollywood hotties.

But my brother isn’t totally off-base. I could use a good roll in the hay. It’s been… longer than I care to recall.

Suddenly, inspiration strikes, and a plan formulates. I’m going to flirt and coo my way right into a handsome hunk’s arms while staying in Sin City, earning a well-deserved romp while ensuring Ryder Gray knows he will never have a chance with me.

Is it petty? Absolutely, but the millionaire superstar has it coming.

In spades.

“On second thought, this could be fun.” I stroll over to my closet, pulling open the door. Time to rethink my wardrobe choices.

“Uh-oh. One eighty change in disposition. Disaster is imminent. Should I worry?”

“Not at all, sweet brother. I’ll see you tonight.”

My bravado is only paper-thin, but at least it’s making an appearance. I strut through the Vegas hotel lobby like I own the place, the clacking of my heels reverberating throughout the marble entrance.

Usually, I aim for comfort when I fly, dressing in yoga pants and sneakers. But this is not one of those times. Today, I’m wearing a black lace dress that hugs my curves in all the right places, complete with a pair of strappy heels that make my legs look a mile long.

I’m a short woman, so heels are a bit of a necessity if I don’t want to disappear into the crowd. But I rarely show off my body in so obvious a manner, even though it’s tighter now at thirty-eight than it was at twenty.

Hey, there has to be an upside to be dumped for a younger woman. When Richard told me he had fallen in love with his secretary, I laughed. Seriously. I threw my head back and laughed at the irony. Just like my mother, I found a man who would throw away years—and I mean years—of dedication in pursuit of a younger lay.

The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. But unlike my mother, whose nerves and self-confidence never recovered from my father’s deceit, I refused to hide away.

Fuck that noise.

Instead, I hit the gym, earning a Pilates certification and discovering muscles they don’t teach you about in anatomy class. My other focus? Work, and paying off the mountain of debt that schmuck ex-boyfriend left me with. At the rate I’m going, I’ll be debt-free by the twenty-second century.

But those bills and that pathetic excuse for a man are not my focus for this weekend. This weekend is about turning heads. Mostly turning Ryder’s head.

Men always want what they can’t have. I let Ryder near my body and heart once. This time, I’m a no-fly zone—at least where Ryder is concerned.

My plane was delayed, so it’s a bonus all I need is a pat of powder and a spritz of perfume to be ready for the rehearsal dinner. By the time I finally landed in the desert, Greg was in full-blown panic mode, certain I was making good on my threat to blow off his wedding.

He’s worse than a woman with the way he worries, but I quickly assuaged his fears and let him know I’d be there for the limo pickup at seven. Greg informed me the rest of the bridal party had already arrived and their mission was clear—imbibe copious amounts of alcohol and commit sins that won’t be spoken about outside the city limits.

It is Vegas, after all.

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