Page 54 of That's Too Pucking Bad

I’m sorry. I’m an asshole. Forgive me.

The note’s a mix of lame and heartfelt. She’ll understand, I hope. It’s the best way I know how to say I screwed up without getting all dramatic about it.

“Alright, you’re good to take this to Remy?” I ask, turning to Maya as I close the trunk.

She shrugs. “Of course, but you’re going to owe me for this, Zane.”

I raise a brow. “Fine, fine. You want me to put in a good word with Caleb for you?”

She throws her head back, laughing. “Caleb? Oh, please, I’ve got him exactly where I want him.”

“Then what?” I ask, not entirely sure where she’s going with this.

“A Van Cleef bracelet,” she says smoothly, like she’s already thought this through. “Hermès. One of those with the little four-leaf clover things on it.”

I raise an eyebrow, chuckling. “Shit, you’re fucking serious? You could buy yourself five of those, Maya. I don’t need to.”

“I could. But I still want one.” She gives me a cheeky smile, and I shake my head.

“Fuck. Okay,” I say, laughing as I lift my hands in surrender. “One Hermès Van Cleef bracelet, just for you. You’ve got expensive tastes.”

She grins, winking as she hops into the driver’s seat. “Don’t be jealous of my style, Coburn.”

“Housewife car,” I mutter, looking at her Range Rover. She sticks her tongue out at me as she closes the door.

“Be nice, Zane,” she says, and I shrug.

“Thank you, Maya,” I say with a mockingly serious tone.

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. See you later.”

A couple hours later, I’m at the gym, trying to clear my head when my phone vibrates.

Maya: You owe me, big time. She loved the gifts. Oh, and she’s coming to the Reapers party tomorrow.

I smirk, letting out a long breath as I reply back.

Zane: Remind me to order you three Van Cleefs. Remy can have the pink one.

Maya: It was a pleasure doing business with you, Zane.

I laugh to myself, pocketing my phone. Maya’s... not that bad. Annoying, maybe. Chatty, definitely. But she did me a solid, and for that, she’s good in my book. Maybe I should make more of an effort to get to know her— Caleb would probably get a kick out of it too.

I adjust my mask for maybe the hundredth time, pulling at the edges so it rests right on my face. Red like blood. All around, the guys are leaning against tables, laughing too loudly, already well into the party buzz.

Caleb’s in his black mask, talking with a couple of the other guys near the bar, and he glances over, catching me checking the door. Again.

“She’ll show,” he says, giving me a smirk, like he’s got a crystal ball or some inside intel I don’t.

“Yeah?” I scoff, trying to shake it off. “When?”

“Give it time, man. Not every girl’s gonna come running on the first bell.”

I take a deep breath, fighting the urge to tell him I’m pretty damn sure she’s not coming. It’s been at least an hour since this thing started, and the door hasn’t budged. I’m starting to think I made the biggest mistake sending that invite. Maybe she was never coming, not after that mess I stirred up with Colin.

Just as I’m about to call it a loss, the door creaks open, and she steps inside.

And damn, Remy’s dressed to kill. The room goes dead silent as she walks in, the kind of silence that’s loud, like everyone here is seeing her for the first time. She’s in a black dress that’s hugging her curves just right, with thin straps over her shoulders and a slit running up her thigh. The lights catch the sparkles woven into the fabric, and it’s like she’s got her own spotlight on her.

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