Page 96 of Prey Tell
“Maybe Miles will have a brand new blushing bride at his side,” I murmur.
Chase chuckles. “Maybe. So you know about that?”
“He told me the night I was over with Jackson. My question is, why can’t he make a good name for himself without a wife? It’s not like marrying someone will magically gain him new clients.”
Chase shrugs. “I have a feeling our father is behind the ploy.”
“Does Miles still talk to your father?”
“He does. He’s the only one of us who is still in contact.”
Interesting.
Before I can ask more, Chase pulls off the highway and pulls his car to the valet line a few minutes later. Walking around to my side, he opens my door and helps me out. Now that I know I’m wearing a famous dress, I’m more nervous about splitting the seams or falling over and tearing the fabric.
“Stop worrying, Parker.”
I smirk. “How can you read me so well?” I ask as he takes my arm and leads us to a nondescript door—though the gathering of people tells me that this is the party.
And I am most certainlynotoverdressed—everyone is wearing a ballgown. At least I won’t stand out in that regard.
“I’ve always been able to read you well,” he murmurs into my ear.
A few camera flashes go off as he tugs me into the gallery. It’s a large space. An open warehouse of sorts, with brick walls staggered evenly to create the illusion of separate rooms. The art is stunning—everything from oil paintings to photographs to sculptures. I take everything in quietly as Chase’s hand comes to my lower back.
“What would you like to drink?” Chase asks, peering down at me once we’re inside.
“Oh, um, maybe some of that fancy champagne from my engagement party?”
His eyes flash. “We’re starting early with the snark, are we? Very well. Stay here. I’ll be back.”
He walks off, and I’m left to admire the art by myself. There are others around, of course, but it’s a large space, and I soon find a pocket of solitude next to a sculpture of a breastfeeding woman sitting on a chair. The statue is made of dark clay, and there are flecks of gold interspersed along the curves of the mother’s body, highlighting the stretch marks on her thighs, her stomach, her breasts. Highlighting her nipples and the apex of her thighs. It’sgorgeous.I read the description.Goddess: Mother. The beginning of everything.
I’m smiling when I feel a hand on my shoulder, spinning around to tell Chase how much I love this piece when my words fall flat.
“Professor Landon?” I ask, unable to hide the surprise in my voice.
“Hello, Ms. Parker.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Fancy seeing you at a party like this.”
“I’m here with a friend,” I say quickly, hoping he’ll leave me alone. I’ve always hated the way he looks at me—especially after we slept together—but lately, despite not being my mentor anymore, he’s been visiting me during my office hours. Standing too close, touching me without permission, sending me emails asking about my day… now that everyone knows Dylan and I called off our engagement, he’s been much more present in my life.
“Oh? A friend who has access to one of the most exclusive galleries in Southern California?”
I open and close my mouth. “I could ask the same of you,” I tease. “Surely professors don’t normally find themselves at these exclusive parties,” I barb back.
He chuckles. “Surely not. Except my wife owns this gallery.”
My mouth drops open. “You’re married?”
He nods once. “Thirteen years, to be exact.”
How did I not know? How did this never come up? Thirteen years means…
He must see the wheels spinning in my head because he leans down. “Yes. And I’d do it again, if you’re amenable. My wife and I have an… arrangement.”
I think of the way his tongue slithered into my mouth that night after I’d had one too many drinks. How easy it was to go along with it. I never said no—it was consensual. But it wasn’t good, and I never wanted to repeat it.
“I’m seeing someone, actually,” I tell him firmly. Using Chase as a scapegoat feels slimy, but I want him to leave me alone. I don’t think he’d resort to pushing me to do anything untoward, but still. He’d backed off when I was with Dylan. It makes me mad that I feel the need to lie about being in a relationship so that he doesn’t leer at me from across the auditorium. “But even if I wasn’t, I’m not interested. Please leave me alone.”
