Page 2 of Heresy

Why I even agreed to this, I don’t know. My father sounded desperate for the help, which cornered me into doing him this favor.

Still, looking at the event occurring at the governor’s mansion, I’m inclined to turn around and leave.

Ames wiggles her brows in reminder that we have other places to be later. “Just get it over with, and stop trying to find a way out of it.”

I laugh because she’s right.

As usual, I’m stalling.

Crowded places aren’t exactly my favorite places, and being around this particular crowd makes it all that much worse.

Snooty folkdoesn’t even begin to cover it.

A sigh escapes me as resignation settles in. I might as well get this over with now that I’m here.

“Yeah, okay, let me just…”

A black car pulls up behind us and honks. I assume it’s on the way to the front of the governor’s mansion for what is, quite obviously, a large event.

Uniformed valets wait on the large front porch, the mansion’s interior lighting ablaze against a purple, twilight sky that is the perfect shade to match Ames’s striking eyes.

Pulling over to let the car pass, I regret not coming here yesterday like I was supposed to do.

But if we can get in and out without causing too much trouble, I’m sure the late delivery won’t be a problem.

“Oh, damn,” Ames murmurs, her elbow nudging mine. “Who the hell is that, and how do I get his number?”

I turn my head in time to see a tall, dark-haired man step out of a car idling in front of the mansion.

From this distance, I can’t quite make out his features, but he looks familiar ... and gorgeous.

The suit he wears does nothing to hide a set of broad shoulders and a tapered waist, his dark eyes set on the car to watch a woman climb out. The flowy material of her ombré gown dances around her legs as she steps up beside him and wraps her arm with his.

Ames snorts.

“Of course. I should have guessed he’d have a date. But maybe there are more just like him.”

She nudges me with her elbow again.

“I’ve changed my mind. We should go in and mingle for a bit, actually. Maybe steal a glass of champagne or two.”

Laughing at that, I remind her, “He may be one of the snooty folk, as you call them.”

Her gaze flicks to me.

“Looking that good, I’m sure he is. But that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the view.”

Whatever the event is that’s occurring tonight, apparently, it’s formal. Ames and I will stick out like sore thumbs.

If I’d known there was a party, I would have at least tried to dress better than a plain white, V-neck tee and baggy jeans.

Although, even in these clothes, I’ll stick out less than Ames.

She’s already dressed for the club, her pale, pastel blue hair flowing over bare shoulders and a black, skintight cami, the ends hanging down to brush the waistband of her black leather pants.

The outfit does nothing to hide her dangerous curves.

“We should make this as quick as possible.”

---