“I couldn’t decide,” he said and looked at me. “Guess you get to play dress-up for me.”
I snorted and stood. “Yeah, right.”
“What, I went to all this trouble and I don’t at least get a fashion montage?”
“You’ll end up stripping me out of the first slightly revealing dress, and I have a feeling we don’t have time for that.”
He made a pained face. “I hate when you’re right.”
“What’s the thing tonight? Fancy dinner? Ballroom dancing?”
“Private event.” He drifted toward the kitchen and leaned against a chair. “At Chief Richards’ house.”
“How’d we swing an invite to that?”
“Hedeon made it happen. Apparently, he wants me to show you off.”
“Guess I’d better make the right choice then.” I bent over and started laying bags over my arm. “How much did you spend on all this?”
“Used the profits from our last drop-off. Figured you earned it.”
I stared at him and let that settle in. I was holding the ill-begotten gains of helping him run drugs around the city—and it’d only taken him two days to sell that entire bag. I could still remember how heavy it had been, how packed full of whatever it was. The idea that he sold it all already… it didn’t speak well of Philadelphia’s drug habits.
“I’ll get dressed.” I lugged them to the stairs and felt his eyes on me as I went. I tried not to think about his arms around my body, his lips against mine—the gentle way he whispered in my ear, trying to calm me, trying to soothe me. I tried not to let myself think about it, and in doing so, could almost taste his lips again.
I slammed my bedroom door shut and started my fashion montage—alone, in private, for myself.* * *We arrived at a single-family house out at the fringes of Philadelphia. “Germantown,” Reid said as he slowed down near a private driveway with a gate closed across it. The fence was big and smooth wood—and showed nothing of the house beyond.
“Is this a rich neighborhood?”
“Sort of. Didn’t used to be. But it’s technically still Philadelphia County, so all the cops and the rich politicians that gotta keep a Philly address move out here. You know, where it’s safer.”
I made a face as he leaned out of the car and hit a buzzer. A muffled voice asked for his name. “Reid and Cora,” he said.
A second later, the gate rolled away, revealing a short drive up to a Tudor-style home that looked like it’d been renovated in the last few years. Cars were parked along the large, circular driveway—Lexus, BMW, Mercedes, Tesla, every luxury brand imaginable—and several attendants in white jackets waved us down. We got out and Reid tossed the keys to a valet.
He took my arm and led me along the path toward the front door. It stood open and revealed a plethora of people standing in the entry hall beneath a large crystal chandelier. The stairwell swept up to the second floor and photographs of a nice family were hung on the wall—I recognized Chief Richards, and what I had to assume were his wife and kids scattered among older relatives, likely mothers and fathers and grandparents.
“I’m glad you chose that one,” he murmured in my ear as he took a glass of champagne from a circulating waiter and handed it to me. “Honestly, that one’s my favorite, but I didn’t think you’d go for it.”
“And why not?” I asked, smiling a little bit—since I already knew the answer.
His eyes drifted down to me chest and I felt my smile grow wider. I wore a black Dior minidress, the neckline plunging and wide open, barely covering my breasts, the bodice tight to the hips then flaring out ever so slightly, creating enough room for two shallow pockets at either hips—but barely long enough to cover half my thighs. I knew I’d have to be careful in it all night, since I was more or less falling out, but god, I loved the look on his face, the pure lust and desire.
“No reason.” He took a glass for himself from another waiter and tipped it back. I hid my stupid, embarrassing smile behind my champagne and let my eyes skim the room.
I noticed several people looking at me—mostly men, though a few women. I fit in fine, my clothes matched the vibe of the evening, but I was by far one of the youngest women, and I might’ve been wearing the most revealing outfit. Not that I minded—I looked fantastic, as evidenced by Reid’s ogling—but I knew I had to be careful.
“Let’s make a round,” he said.
I took his arm and let him lead the way. We moved through the entryway and into a wide, open kitchen and living room area, where more men and women were packed. The back doors were thrown open and the yard was full of standing tables and more couples, some of them smoking, all of them drinking. We wandered outside and stood staring at a patch of gorgeous red and white roses, a profusion of petal and thorns.