Page 85 of When Glitter Meets Gold

“To a ball…” I fidget with the buttons on the jacket. “To the Hemmingvale ball.”

Amber chokes. She smacks her chest with her palm, her eyes watering as she recovers. “Are you serious?” I nod. “Sara…you realize this means he’s into you? Really, really into you.”

I can’t explain why warmth heats my face when she tells me that. “It’s just an invitation. Besides, it’s more of a colleague thing.”

Amber kneels on the cushions, her elbows digging into the back of the sofa as she leans over the edge to eye me intensely, her big boobs squishing together. “Nope. Hemmingvale is… Jeese, I don’t even know how to describe it. It’s more than just a ball. It’s a gathering of industry royalty. You’re going to see people so filthy rich, you won’t even know who they are because they never set foot amongst the peasants.” I laugh at that. “Seriously. He’s inviting you into his world. He’s showing you off.”

I frown. “You make it sound like I’m a trophy.”

Amber shakes her head. “If you were a trophy, he’d parade you around his fancy bars. This is different.”

I fill my third glass of water. “You think I shouldn’t go?”

She squeals. “Hell no. You have to go.” She lowers her voice. “I guess what I mean is, figure out if your heads where his heads at.” She sighs. “I just don’t want to see you hurt after…” She trails off, shaking her head. “Hey, I’m just starting to get my best friend back, I want to keep her for a while, okay? Without another man messing with her head.”

I skip over to where she leans over the sofa and plant a mushy kiss on top of her head. “I know. I promise I’m being careful.” I travel to the hall, grabbing a towel from the linen closet. “And listen, I know I’ve been a bad friend for…a while. I hate that I stopped hanging out and basically missed out on any fun. I promise to make up for it.”

She laughs. “Okay, you weren’t a bad friend, don’t be hard on yourself.”

I shrug, then sling the towel over my shoulder. “I’ll come hang out in a bit. We can watch the rest of that movie?”

Amber climbs from the sofa. “Can’t. I met a guy at lunch, and now I have a booty call in twenty minutes.”

“Banker?” I sigh.

“Real estate prick.” She winks as she grabs her coat.

“How do you know he’s a prick already?” I grab another towel from the closet.

“Oh, just because I met him five minutes after I witnessed his girlfriend dump him for sexting other women,” Amber says casually while slipping her feet into six-inch court heels even I couldn’t walk in.

“You’re damaged, you know that?” I shake my head.

“He’s a booty call, not a boyfriend.” She chides. “So, unless you’re setting me up with one of Jack’s friends tonight, my hands are tied.”

I frown while holding back my usual speech where I tell her to stop hooking up with idiots she doesn’t know and try to meet a nice guy for a change. “Maybe another night. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go shower Jack’slove juicefrom my thighs.”

Thirty minutes later, I’m showered and my is hair knotted in a towel piled on top of my head. I tug a pale pink, silk robe over my freshly moisturized skin, and head to the sofa where I plan on spending the rest of the evening doing work for the collaboration with the Vandenberg Group.

But before I can sink into the cushions, there’s a knock at the door.

“Glad you came to your senses,” I say as I open the door.

“What?” Jack stares down at me.

“Oh!” I inhale a sharp breath, because I must look ridiculous compared to how he saw me earlier. “I thought you were Amber. There’s a whole booty call situation…” I gasp. “With her! Not me. Never mind. What are you doing here?”And in gray sweatpants, with fluffy hair.

“Can I come in? We need to talk?”

35

SARA

“Why don’t people text before they come over anymore?” I groan as I open my door fully, so his massive frame can fit. “I look…”

“Fucking perfect, as always,” Jack says with a smirk, although I’m not sure the smile quite reaches his whole face.

“What did you want to talk about?” I’ve already taken his hand to lead him to the sofa, and since he’s brushing my fingers with his thumb, I don’t think it’s about anything too terrible…but then, that’s what my ex would do. Tell me everything was okay, when it really, really wasn’t…

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