“Bella?” he asks, almost as if he’s confused by the fact I’m calling.
“Yeah, hey, how does someone get tickets to one of the Sterling Memorial charity events?”
“Um… Buy a plate? I don’t know. I usually just donate but don’t attend too often. Why?”
“How much is a plate?”
“Fuck, I don’t know. Depends on who is helping host it. Could be a thousand dollars a plate or it could be thirty thousand a plate.”
That is so not what I was expecting to hear.
“Seriously? By plate, are you talking a plate of food or a gold plate found in a pharaoh’s tomb?”
He snorts. “Why are you asking?”
I guess I’ll be standing outside and hoping security doesn’t run me off.
“I was going to buy a plate, but never mind. I’ll figure out something else.”
“Hold up. I think I know someone else going,” he says, and I wait patiently as something rustles in the background, and muffled voices mask words I can’t understand.
“Hey, it’s Dale,” Dale Sterling says over the phone suddenly, confusing me. “You want to go to the charity ball this weekend?”
“I’m not letting anyone spend money on me to get in,” I quickly point out. I love their hearts, but I don’t take money from anyone.
“Well, you’d be doing me a favor actually,” he says, making me suspicious. “I bought two plates, but my date bailed at the last minute. You can come with me so that my mother doesn’t try to replace her with another girl she wants me to meet.”
“I’d be doing you a favor?” I ask skeptically.
“Yeah. Did you not hear that last part? My mother will literally shove another girl into my car and force me to take her. My ex is engaged again already, and my mom is determined that I’m going to be seen with a woman every chance given, as though somehow that makes it all better. I can’t make her understand I don’t care if Fiona is getting married, but she wants my ex to be jealous. I don’t get women.”
A small smile curves my lips. “Then you have a date for the night.”
“Thank you,” he says with genuine relief. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”
My eyes flick to the flyer. “It says it starts at seven.”
“Trust me. I’ll pick you up at eight.”
Frowning, I decide not to sound ungrateful. “Eight it is.”
Feeling a little better, I hang up, and another text from Ethan comes through. This time, it’s a picture of abs. Sexy, tight, firm abs. And I roll my eyes.
I need to go shopping for the event, so I’ll continue ignoring his damn texts. Maybe he’ll take the hint.
Chapter 9
BELLA
As I absently sift through the clearance rack, hoping to strike gold, my eyes lift up to see something that has too many conflicting emotions striking at once. All because of one man with long legs clad in dark denim, a chiseled upper body wrapped in a fitted black T-shirt, aviator sunglasses hiding wicked eyes, black hair tousled in the sexiest possible way, and a smile the devil wears himself.
Ethan. Shit. Not again. Why won’t he just leave me alone?
I practically run inside the fitting room and lock the door. Then I plaster myself against the wall as my heart thuds in my chest. I’m a coward, but I don’t care.
You’d think I was running from a bank heist or something.
Maybe he didn’t see me. Surely he didn’t.