Simone was going to be at this party.
Elliott knew it, though he hadn’t asked the future governor of Louisiana, whose name turned out to be Trent Boudreaux, if he’d invited her. He hadn’t wanted to give the other man any inkling that it mattered. Because it didn’t. Absolutely not.
Drink in hand, Elliott stood in the corner of the living room in Trent’s suite, absolutely not scanning the room for any sign of her. A couple blondes had passed by earlier, one of them giving him a significant look he thought meant he’d fucked at least one of them. When he hadn’t done more than give her a single nod, she’d stalked off in a huff. Her friend had given him the death stare over her shoulder, but all Elliott did was shrug. Since meeting Simone, he’d somehow lost his taste for blondes.
“Elliott. Buddy.” Barry clapped him on the shoulder. “You ready to do some wheeling and dealing?”
“You’re the wheeler dealer. Not me. I’m just the guy who knows how to use Google.”
“You could do it, if you wanted. Get you out of that boring estate-law business. Get you into some lobbying full-time. C’mon. You’re the man.” Barry grinned.
Elliott had to laugh at that. In all the years he and Barry had been friends, the pattern had never changed. Barry baited and set the hook, and Elliott ended up doing all the fish gutting.
“I’m a dotter of I’s, the crosser of T’s. That’s all.”
“But you’re fucking amazing at it.” Barry looked serious for a moment. He leaned closer. “Look. This is an important gig for me. If I can guarantee this guy’s support with these purchases, we’ll be set for a good, long time. Get your game on, buddy. Game. On.”
With that, Barry gave Elliott’s shoulder another painful squeeze and moved into the crowd. Elliott straightened. He was at this party for a reason, and it was not to see Simone again. It was to help Barry close this deal with that politician from Louisiana, as a favor to his old friend. That was all.
“Well, hi. Fancy meeting you here.”
Simone wore a short black cocktail dress with a hint of purple shimmer in it that was echoed in her hair. She wore it sleeked back tonight, reminiscent of the twenties flapper style, with a spit curl on each cheek. She smiled at him with lips the color of cherries, but the expression didn’t reach her eyes.
He’d fucked up.
Big-time.
“I thought you might be here.” Barry might call Elliott smooth, but he was about as smooth as sandpaper.
“And yet you came anyway? Wow. Total shocker.” She rolled a shoulder and half turned from him.
The motion exposed the creamy line of her neck and shoulder, bared by the strapless dress. He wanted to kiss her there. Bite.
In all the times they’d spent together, brief as they’d been, there’d never been any uncomfortable silences. This one more than made up for that. It stretched on and on, and he realized she wasn’t going to say anything until he did.
Elliott took a long, deep breath. “Look. We seem to have had a misunderstanding.…”
“Really?” Eyes snapping fire, Simone faced him. “Really. A misunderstanding. What part of ‘I don’t want to see you again, and I don’t want you to come to my office’ did I misunderstand? Because it seemed pretty fucking crystal to me.”
He winced. “No. That part was right.”
Simone sneered, but there was something else that upset him more than her clear disgust. The shimmer of tears in her eyes set Elliott back a step. He reached for her before he could stop himself.
“Wait,” he said, though she hadn’t done so much as try to walk away. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”
“No.”
Surprised, already touching her elbow to lead her someplace more private, Elliott stopped. “No?”
“I have nothing to say to you.”
“But I have something to say to you,” he told her.
Simone tossed her head and shrugged away from him. “Too bad.”
And that was that. She walked away, head held high, and
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