Page 57 of Bad Situation

I start my truck and pull up to the security guard holding an iPad at the gate and roll down my window. “Hey.”

He looks at his watch before frowning at me. “Good evening, Sir. The reception is wrapping up.”

I smile and do my best not to look as irritated as I feel. “I know. I’m not on your list but I am here to pick up Ms. Montgomery. She’s expecting me.”

He brings his iPad to life. “Ms. Montgomery?”

“Jensen Montgomery,” I amend.

He keeps scrolling. “Ms. Montgomery hasn’t arranged for a car that I see.”

Arranged for a car? Fuck me. He hasn’t said it, but she didn’t arrange for a truck that’s seven years old, either. Especially with a guy driving it who looks nothing like a driver and everything like an average Joe.

My only chance to get in without making a scene is sweet-talking this kid. “No. It wouldn’t be. She only called for me an hour ago.”

He takes in a big breath and shakes his head. “I’m sorry—”

“Look,” I interrupt and take in his nametag pinned to his security jacket. “Fisher?”

He shrugs. “Justin Fisher, Sir.”

“Justin.” I lean my elbow on the opened window ledge of my truck and lower my voice. “Look. Do you know Ms. Montgomery?”

He nods. “I work for Montgomery Industries. At the main building.”

I tip my head. “Good. Well, as you know, her brother was married tonight and Ms. Montgomery celebrated. A lot.” I shrug and give up all the information I have to make it look legit. “She needs a ride and her normal driver is off. I’m a friend and she called me. The house and guest house are full tonight. I just need to collect her and we’ll be out of your hair. I know you have an important job to do.”

Young Justin looks around and I can tell he’s warring with himself.

“Justin.” I crook my finger to him. “She’s the CFO. She doesn’t want to make a big deal about not being able to drive herself home, you know?”

That must make sense to him because he finally relents. “I hope I don’t get in trouble for this.”

I shake my head and smile. “It’s all good, man.”

He moves back into the guardhouse and opens the gate. I roll up my window and give him a wave as I drive through to search for Jen.

If she’s ignoring me on purpose, there’ll be hell to pay.

As I wind through the property, I was wrong. It goes on forever and the main home, which you can barely see from the road, is bigger than I thought. Most of the time when I’m with her, I forget she comes from this—that this is who she is.

Beyond the meadow where I park, there’s a sea of white tents in a clearing of trees with more outdoor seating areas lighting the night up like a never-ending firecracker. Music is blaring and people are still going at it. I’ve never regretted my choice of clothing more than I do at this moment. I know how to blend into a crowd, but right now—wearing jeans and a pullover—I’m not even sure I can pull off being a part of the cleaning crew, and I have no doubt there’s a cleaning crew.

Maybe everyone will be drunk enough they won’t notice. Other than her Baptist mother.

I get out of my car and head toward the crowd, scanning the area. Just when I pass a group of people laughing and talking louder than they need to, my phone goes off so many times, it’s like I’ve hit the Jensen Montgomery jackpot.

Jen: Shit. Worry.

Jen: No, Sorry! I list track of time.

Jen: Damn. Lust!

Jen: Fuuuuucj. LOST.

Jen: FUCK.

Jen: Nebermind. Are you here>

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