Page 74 of Blindside Sinner

But then it’s gone and I’m sure I made it all up. He helps me to my feet, then drops my hand like a hot potato.

“They’re going to take your picture,” he warns, his breath warm and minty against my ear. “Just smile and pretend like you’re happy to be here.”

“Iamhappy to be here,” I protest.

But he’s already moving ahead, parting the crowd so I can walk through unimpeded.

I follow along and watch his muscular back flex beneath his dinner jacket. There are some things about him that I don’t like, some I don’t understand—but more than that, there are so many I want to know better.

And that scares the shit out of me.

But tonight, I promise myself not to care about any of that. For a few hours at least, I can pretend that this is okay.

I deserve at least that much.

37

SLOAN

When we get to the front entryway, Vivian is waiting like a vulture. She slides her arm through Beck’s and pulls him toward the interior of the room.

Over her shoulder, she glances at me and frowns. “Stay out of the way.”

That sound you hear? That’s my balloon of happiness goingpop.

I do as I’m told and melt to the background like a wallflower. Clutch in hand, I watch Beck. He shakes hands and smiles, he signs jerseys, he tousles little kids’ heads. He’s the picture of the community-focused superstar.

Viv stays glued to his side. For every step he puts between them, she takes two small ones closer. “She might as well stick herself in his pocket.” I say it aloud because no one’s paying attention to me anyway.

But then, out of nowhere, Dixon is at my side. He laughs. “You been watching that, too? Like white on rice, right?” He takes myhand and places it on his elbow in a friendly sort of way. “Come on. Let’s go look around.”

We weave through the crowd. I take the chance to look around. The place is a huge warehouse that’s been converted into a blue-and-green palace for the night. Uplighting and confetti and balloons everywhere reflect the Seattle Wave colors as far as the eye can see.

We stop for a second and Dix introduces me as “a friend of his” to a flurry of strangers. The president of some foundation or other, the lieutenant governor and his wife, actors, rich guys, and on and on. I don’t remember a single name, but I do my best to smile and be polite.

Finally, we both need a breather. “There’s some stuff up for the silent auction,” he suggests. “Wanna go add some zeroes to all the rich dudes’ bids? Bet they won’t even notice.”

“Lead the way,” I say with a meek laugh.

Winking, he guides me through the crowd to a corner of the room festooned with long white tables.

On display are a Rolex watch, season box tickets, backstage passes for a local band that made it big. But that’s the small stakes stuff.

The hot ticket item tonight is all collected on one table, under a big banner that reads “Buy a Date with a Superstar.” I roll my eyes as I check the list.

Sure enough, Dix and Adrian have donated dates. I force myself to look away before I can see if Beck did the same. I don’t like the squirmy, anxious feeling I get in my tummy at the thought of him splitting bottles of Pinot Grigio with some trust fund baby.

“You guys are shameless,” I say.

“Love will find a way,” Dix sighs dreamily. He flutters his eyelashes like a Disney princess.

“Shameless,” I repeat. “Utterly and completely shameless.”

That mischievous grin of his broadens. “Do you want to dance?”

Why not?I think. Beck clearly couldn’t care less. The band has started and they’re playing a slow one, so I let Dix lead me to the center of the room where couples are already swaying to the music.

Over his shoulder, I see Beck at the edge of the dancefloor. He’s talking to one of the women whose name I can’t remember. Viv is still hanging onto his arm like a strangling vine.

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