Page 178 of Burning Daylight
“Well, you know me, I hate to break character.” She leans closer, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Paxton’s little wife looks like she bought out the entire bridal section of a department store and rolled herself in glitter just for fun.”
I snort, my eyes flicking to where Tiffany sits next to Paxton right across from us. “She can probably hear you.”
“Good,” she says, taking a sip of champagne.
Paxton’s glaring at us, his jaw tight and his fingers tapping an irregular beat against his napkin on the table. His gaze flicks to Felicity, then immediately away.
Alex plops down next to Paxton with a dramatic sigh. “God, these things are the worst. Who do I have to fake charm to get out of here?”
“Let me know when you figure it out,” Felicity replies.
Alex glances across the room, to where Lance is standing with Tyler and Art. “If Lance would actually pretend he likes us, maybe he could help.”
I scoff. “Tough luck. He hasn’t even said hi tonight.”
“Want me to go kick his ass?” Felicity offers.
“Actually, since you’re both here,” I pipe in, pointing to Alex and her. “Are you dating Alex, Felicity?”
She widens her eyes and then kicks my foot under the table.
“What? I deserve to know if you’re sneaking behind my back.”
“We’ve been over this a thousand times. I’mnotdating him.”
“Yet,” he interjects.
“Ever,” she snaps back with narrowed eyes.
And then come my parents, my mother looking like the belle of the ball, my father stiff and polished on her arm. They glide effortlessly into their seats, which lets me know dinner is about to be served.
“Isn’t tonight just magical?” my mother croons in a sickly-sweet voice.
“Nothing says magic like tax evasion for a good cause,” Felicity says with a raise of her glass.
Paxton chuckles under his breath, and Felicity’s eyes cut to him before turning back to her champagne.
My mother tenses at her comment, but recovers fast, which is not surprising. She’s always had a gift for pretending not to hear things she doesn’t like.
My father clears his throat, and Paxton straightens before looking at Felicity. “Let’s try to be gracious tonight.”
“Oh, I’m incredibly gracious. Just not delusional.”
I smirk and hide it behind my hand.
Tiffany shoots Felicity a look like she wants to stab her with a fork, but Paxton doesn’t miss a beat.
He lifts his drink. “You know, for someone who wasn’t even invited, you sure have a lot of opinions.”
“I was invited,” she says, sweet as syrup. “By someone who likes having me around. I’m not surprised you have no experience with what that feels like.”
Paxton quirks a brow. “Tell me, Flick, you practice being such a bitch in the mirror, or does it come naturally?”
Flick.I haven’t heard him use that nickname for her in years. He started calling her that back when she was a kid, because she’d always flickeverything. Her hair, his forehead.
From the way Felicity startles when he says it, she hasn’t heard it in a while, either.
She grins. “I don’t need to practice making you feel small. That part’s effortless.”
