“Let me out, Agent Atwood. I’m late for work.”
Alex smiled, his lips pulling back to reveal nicotine-stained teeth as he unlocked the door. “Know your role, Miss Harcourt.”
Twenty-Three
Leighton
I stoodat the base of the pretentious imperial style brick staircase watching guests file past me, congratulating themselves on being superior to anyone who wasn’t them. The whole over-the-top show made me want to throw up.
Fuck old money.
I didn’t want to be here. I was forced into this by the person leaning against one of the massive brick columns four feet behind us. Well, misery loved company, and if I had to be miserable, so did he.
Stepping off the ledge of the bottom step, I wobbled through the manicured grass, my six-inch heels sinking into the soil. With concerted effort, I finally stood in front of Mateo, my hand on my hip. “Aren’t you going in with me?”
“No, it’s not safe for you to be seen with me,” he said, his eyes never dropping below my chin while his jaw ticked with anger. “Walk in with Brody. I’ll be watching.”
We glared at each other in a battle of wills neither of us cared to lose. Logically, I knew he was right, but I was still irritated at the way he’d talked to me in the Tahoe like I was a child. I didn’t respond well to ultimatums, especially ones given by men who demanded transparency yet gave none. I wanted to kick him in the shins and walk away, but heat broke across my cheeks and scattered down my chest, settling deep in my stomach.
He looked dangerously refined. He still wore his black jeans, but he’d traded his usual T-shirt for a black button-down shirt. However, my eyes couldn’t look away from his face where his shoulder-length black hair was pulled back and secured at his nape. My criminal wore the mask of a gentleman without missing a beat.
And that made him the most lethal man there.
A discreet cough came from my left as Brody popped his head over my shoulder. “Am I interrupting something?”
I stepped back. “No. Mateo was just informing me he’d be hanging out in the rafters watching us like a stalker.”
Mateo’s eyes darkened, and he stomped toward me, his finger raised in the air. “Look, I’ve had about enough of whatever has crawled up your ass.” For the first time since arriving, his eyes lowered along with his finger. “You’re lucky I even let you out of the car in that...that...”
“That’s some outfit you’ve got there.” Brody snickered.
I spun around and glared at him. “Problem?”
“Nope. I’m just ready for dinner and a show.” Wrapping my hand around his arm, he led me up the staircase. Halfway up, he leaned in and whispered, “And where did you get your, um, dress?”
I smiled as women in beaded ball gowns stopped to stare at me. “Adam and Eve.”
Wisely, Brody let the subject die. My brother wasn’t stupid and having grown up with me, he knew nothing I did was without purpose. Tonight was no exception.
Once inside, Brody placed his hand on my shoulder and whispered, “I know you’re aware of...well, of what I do, but there’s a whole world you know nothing about. I need you to understand there’ll be men here who aren’t who you think they are.”
He looked so concerned for my fragile psyche that I didn’t want to burst his bubble, so I just nodded. “Mateo has already informed me.”
“And you cannot react.”
“Wow, you two really think I’m some half-wit, don’t you?”
“Not in the least,” he said, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “After what you’ve been through, I think you’re probably smarter than all of us put together.” Glancing around, he released me and painted on a plastic smile, transforming into the political figurehead he’d been raised to be. “Are you ready for this?”
My stomach lurched. “Absolutely not.”
The farther we walked into the room, the harder I squeezed Brody’s arm. Three massive crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and the walls dripped with green ivy entangled with tiny twinkling white lights. A black podium stood at the front of the room, rigged up with a microphone, teleprompter, and a lighting setup powered by enough juice to cause a citywide blackout. It was pompous, over-the-top, and fit Lilith Harcourt Donovan to a T.
“Oh, my children have arrived! Brody, don’t you look positively dashing.”
Speak of the devil.
I slowly turned to see my mother air-kissing both of Brody’s cheeks. Her heavily beaded gown crunched as she moved, while her teased blonde hair remained unflappable. Once she released her hold on him, she rushed toward me, grabbing my hands and linking our fingers like we were best friends.