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Well, not a blank. My mind is occupied completely with the memory of how Casey looks sweaty and wearing nothing at all.

The woman in question has drawn the CEO’s attention. He eyes her appreciatively and suddenly I couldn’t care any less what his name is. Casey is inching to the left slowly, like she’s hoping I won’t notice her moving away. Time to end this conversation. I say a pointed goodbye and then turn to Casey.

“Have you had anything to eat? Let me at least get you a drink.” I look around desperately for the food.

“Oh no, you don’t need to.”

Maybe she doesn’t need one, but I do. I grab two glasses from the tray of a passing waiter.

“So you’ve been at the Mirage Agency this entire time.” I shake my head at the irony. “And to think, I kept blowing off those meetings. If I’d known, I would have been at the agency everyday.”

“Why?” She takes a small sip of her champagne, avoiding my eyes.

“What do you mean, why?”

“Why would you have come to the agency if you’d known that I was there?”

I scowl. “Because you ditched me!”

She laughs and even though it’s at my expense, I’m happy to see it. At least she’s talking to me now. And no longer smiling at other men.

“Don’t expect me to believe that you really care about that. I’m sure you’ve done the same many times. Besides, if I hadn’t left when I did, you would have just made up an excuse to get rid of me in the morning anyway.”

“No. I wouldn’t have done that. I was planning on sharing breakfast with you. Taking you home. Asking for your number.”

She looks skeptical and this probably isn’t the best place to discuss it anyway. Her concerns about being treated differently in a professional setting are valid. I know how people think and how the gossip mill runs. The last thing she needs is one of her coworkers overhearing this conversation.

“Come. Let’s get away from the crowd. I need some air.” I motion for her to follow me up the stairs to the second level. There’s a small table at the top of the stairs where we place our glasses.

Casey wanders over to the railing overlooking the floor below. “I thought you weren’t coming tonight. Aren’t you busy?”

“Of course. But I am learning to make time for what’s important to me.” I hold her gaze, wanting her to see and know the truth in my words. “Life is for living, right?”

This side of the building is in shadow, with only some muted illumination reflecting up from the main floor. From this vantage point, we can observe all of the couples mingling and dancing below. Casey shivers and I immediately slip out of my jacket and hang it on her shoulders.

“Thank you.” She glances up at me, uncertainly. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.”

She’s about to say something else when the sound of clanking footsteps has us both turning. A woman, obviously inebriated, is coming up the stairs. Once she reaches the top, she stares at us before giggling. “Whaaaaat? Andre Lavin is here? Can I get a picture?”

Internally, I curse her timing. While I’m always happy to take pictures with fans, Casey looked like she was about to say something. Now she’s retreated back into herself, her eyes shuttered.

It’s going to be a real challenge to get her to open up again. Especially when evidence of how different we are keeps getting thrown in her face.

“Of course,” I reply, moving to stand next to the young woman.

The sound of her camera’s shutter echoes in the space around us as she takes selfie after selfie, making weird faces in some and duck lips in others.

Finally she’s done. “Oh my god, this is awesome!” She grabs me in a sudden hug and instantly I’m back on that red carpet watching a knife coming through the air.

I can’t breathe.

By the time I’ve gained control of myself again, the young woman is gone. I take a shuddery breath. Panic attacks came fast and furious in the month after the incident but I thought I’d conquered those. But I’ve learned a hard lesson tonight. Anxiety can return at any time and in any situation.

“That happens a lot, huh?”

My heart starts pounding fast again. What does she mean? Did Casey notice my reaction? Then I realize she’s talking about the woman taking my picture.


Tags: M. Malone Mess with Me Romance