Greeks thought. Anyway, it’s just a story.”
“I think it’s a good story. Except Hera should get it at the end.”
Dirk laughed again. “The bad guys never do.”
Behind her, the first guests trickled out of the stuffy ballroom into the cool night air, so much for keeping his impromptu escort quiet. He wasn’t so eager to ditch her anymore, but he had the family honor and her paycheck to protect. And the clock was ticking.
4
T here were worse ways to earn a thousand dollars, Rachel told herself. She could have been ordered to spend the evening with Cyrus himself. Something about him rubbed Rachel the wrong way. Maybe it was the little smile he wore like he knew something she didn’t, and was only waiting for a chance to use it against her. She could have been sent back down to the bitchy costume mistress and her judgmental tape measure.
Yes, there were worse ways to spend the evening than with gorgeous Dirk Greenwood, even if he did keep trying to ditch her.
The empty patio was now nearly crammed with guests. One woman’s gold floor-length dress sparkled under the streetlights. Rachel realized that she was the woman who’d slapped Dirk and stormed off. She glanced down at her own costume again and frowned. Even the material of Dirk’s simple toga seemed more luxurious than her under-dress.
No wonder he kept trying to ditch her. Well, she wasn’t having it. She needed that money and no spoiled rich kid was going to keep it from her. Not even one chiseled from marble and tanned to perfection.
The glint from the gold dress caught Dirk’s eye and drew his attention. His eyes narrowed as the woman glanced at him and waved. “How about I go find us a drink?” he asked, turning back to Rachel.
Rachel pursed her lips. “That was clumsy, Dirk. I’m actually disappointed.”
He glanced at the growing crowd. “Do you really want to listen to the small talk?” he whispered.
She turned her head to the crowd, just in time to see the woman with the sparkling dress extend a bejeweled arm for someone to admire. The patron dutifully took the woman’s arm and turned it, so that her jewels could catch the light and sparkle even more.
“Point taken.”
He laughed and pressed a hand against the small of her back to guide her. Rachel tried to ignore her throbbing heart. Why should one touch mean so much? She wasn’t allowed to flirt with him or any patron. Something told her that particular rule wasn’t lifted just because she was technically Dirk’s date.
“The hotel has a decent enough wine selection. The twenty-five-year-old scotch is good, too,” he said.
“Beer’s fine. Whiskey’s better,” she said.
As they made their way toward the door into the ballroom, Michael and his date stepped out.
Rachel whirled around so she was face-to-face with Dirk. The look of panic in her eyes must have been more obvious than she’d intended because Dirk looked down at her with a mixture of confusion and concern.
“What’s wrong? Changed your mind?”
“Hey, you’re Dirk Greenwood aren’t you?” Michael’s voice came from directly behind her. Dirk looked over Rachel and nodded.
“I am,” Dirk said.
From his tone, Rachel didn’t think Dirk appreciated being recognized.
“I just read about you in Los Angeles Magazine! Bringing tech back to LA. Great piece!” Michael clapped Dirk on the arm, and for a second, Rachel thought she heard a soft growl catch in Dirk’s throat.
Rachel turned around and moved so that she stood by Dirk’s side. The leather of Michael’s centurion costume looked sturdy, but worn at the edges, and the vest too large for him. His mask was brown, with red swirls of glitter that fell away whenever he moved. Michael’s date wore a tight 1950’s pin dress that clung for dear life to her slim figure. She glanced at Rachel and her plain costume, and then turned back to Michael, who continued to fawn over Dirk.
Rachel waited for Michael to recognize her. She tried to prepare a
John Warren, Libby Warren
F. Paul Wilson, Alan M. Clark