A waiter offered them champagne, and she took one to calm her nerves. On second thought, getting hammered might not be such a good idea. Yasmin seldom drank alcohol, so her tolerance was low. She set the glass down on the nearest table, her fingers trembling.Shit.
Oh, she was aware she and Carver came from two very different worlds, but standing here made hermoreaware of it. Her heart beat against her chest, and she had a little trouble breathing. Sweat rolled down her back. She felt like a fraud, wearing this expensive dress and the diamond necklace and earrings Carver gave to her before they got into the car. What if she had some kind of panic attack here?
A squeeze on the back of her neck made her look at her man. He leaned in close to her ear.
“Breathe in and out, angel. I’m here.”
His firm voice soothed her, and for a second, she forgot about everything else—the servers, the men and women in suits and gowns that probably cost more than her old monthly rent. Carver seemed confident she wouldn’t screw this up. She relaxed a little, her anxiety fading bit by bit as she reached for his hand. He curled his big, inked ones over hers and gave her a reassuring squeeze. Yasmin felt better already.
She smiled at the right moments, made polite conversations as Carver talked to a few individuals. He always made the introductions, never making her feel left out, even once.
“Just endure this a little more, and we’ll head back to our place,” Carver whispered to her ear after they said goodbye to the governor and his wife.
Our place.That really did have a good ring to it. Navigating the waters of his world might be occasionally daunting, but she’d held her own pretty well tonight.
“Fuck you, Carver,” a man yelled, shattering the mood.
The entire hall fell silent, and she searched for the source of the disturbance. A huge man with a shaved head and old scars across his face, dressed in a black suit, shoved his way past a couple and put his hand into the pocket of his suit. Carver automatically planted himself in front of her. Everything happened far too fast for her to process. Gunshots rang out, followed by screams as people started for the nearest exits.
“Carver,” she whispered, fearing for her man. Carver let out a grunt, then yelled, “Jake, get her out of here.”
“Wait,” she blurted, feeling Jake close his hand over his wrist and begin pulling her to the doors. “Damn it, Jake. What about Carver? God. I think he’s been shot.”
“The boss will be fine. We have our guys on it,” he said cryptically. She sucked in a breath, noticing he pulled his revolver out and kept looking at his surroundings. Finally, they emerged into the cool night. Plenty of people started rushing for their cars. It was a complete panic but nothing compared to her thumping heart. Fear sank its claws into her, and she had trouble breathing. Her dress felt plastered to her skin, and her feet started hurting in her heels.
“Stop dragging me, I can walk,” she said.
Jake paused and loosened his grip on her. She took off her heels and grabbed them. The concrete felt cool under her. A black Jaguar stopped in front of them and Jake opened the door.
“Please.” She grabbed his arm. “I want to wait for Carver.”
Jake shook his head. “The boss ordered me to take you to a safe location in case of an emergency.”
“Who is that guy? You’re not lying to make me feel better right? He’s fine?”
“He is. Carver’s wearing a bulletproof vest underneath. Please, get in the car and let Mario take you back to the apartment so I can see to him.”
Realizing she could do nothing, she got inside the car. The entire time her hands shook, and she kept looking at her phone.
Please, God, I hope he isn’t badly hurt, because I’m really falling fast and hard for my man.