Page 32 of Dirty Plans

She chews on the side of her lip, and the movement draws my attention. The scar above her upper lip is barely visible and it makes me wonder if she ever had more surgeries for her cleft lip and palate.

Not that I’d bring it up.

She had always been so scared about the ones looming in her future. Back then, I would have done anything to trade places with her so she didn’t have to go through with them.

“It’s fine,” she finally offers.

I quirk an eyebrow. “Just fine?”

She eyes her empty cup and sighs. “Yeah, just fine.”

It’s obvious things arenotfine. But I don’t know how much I should pry.

“I betyouwent to college,” I say, redirecting things for now.

She nods. “Yeah, UMD. I studied business. I always knew I wanted to be an entrepreneur. I just didn’t expect it to be so …” her voice trails off.

I don’t know if she’s thinking about her husband and wishing she was traveling. Or if it’s something else.

“Hard?” I offer, hoping it’s the right choice.

Again, she sighs. “Yeah.Reallyhard.” Her eyes meet mine and there’s a glassy quality that wasn’t there before.

“Shit, I don’t mean to upset you—” I say, suddenly feeling like an ass.

She swallows hard. “No, it’s not you. I think it’s—it’s just the drinks. I should have stopped after two.” In a movement so quick, she swipes at her cheek.

I could kick myself. Of course, this is a sore subject. Quinn all but told me that it was a contention in her marriage and that his traveling put a strain on her business.

Lily takes a moment to compose herself. “I just really expected things to be easier. I mean, I went to business school. Iknowwhat I’m doing. But it turns out, I suck at marketing and finding clients. It’s hard to dazzle them with my event planning skills when they won’t even give me a chance.”

I watch her movements, the way the corners of her mouth tip downward and her shoulders slump. She looks like a defeated woman and it makes me wonder what’s caused this in her.

Even when things didn’t make sense, she was always the kid who would dig in until she figured it all out. She’d never wave a white flag in defeat. I hate seeing her like this.

“You know, I could really use an event planner,” I say tentatively.

This wasn’t the way I wanted to ask her—like I’m doing her a favor—but I’d do just about anything to shift her into a better place.

She eyes me with a hint of curiosity and skepticism. “Are you just saying that?”

I chuckle softly. “Not even a little bit.”

Lily watches me for a few beats, her eyes surveying me like she can assess my truthfulness simply by scanning me up and down. Finally, her curiosity must win out, because she says, “What kind of an event?”

I lick my lower lip, trying to decide how much I can tell her. My boss, Noah, will expect me to follow protocol, and that will mean bringing her back to Nocté to sign an NDA.

I clear my throat and hedge, “It’s a sort of dinner party.”

“A dinner party?” she asks, sitting up straighter. “At anightclub?”

I press my lips together. Yup, walked right into that.

I scratch the back of my neck. “It’s complicated.”

She looks enthralled now, though, as she crosses her arms on the table and leans forward. But the one rule I promised myself I wouldn’t do slips as I drop my eyes to her cleavage, barely visible from the v-neck of her shirt.

Shifting in my seat, I wait for her to ask another question because I don’t trust myself not to lay everything bare.

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