Page 10 of Pretty Little Threats

The driver dips his head in acknowledgement and escorts her from the room. I scan the crowd. The rooftop restaurant and bar, situated in the heart of New York City’s financial district, has been transformed from a nighttime hotspot to an elegant lounge worthy of its opulent guests. Event coordinators covered the tables in heavy black cloths, ribbons of gold and silver streaking across the middle and underneath the floral centerpieces inside of crystal vases. No expense has been spared, which is ironic, considering we’re here to raise money for local food pantries.

For a moment, I’m all alone in a roomful of people. No one seems to notice me. Everyone is too intent on circling those with the most power, and despite my position in the company, I’m still just Joseph Miller’s daughter. An intrusive sense of inadequacy rolls over me. In this world, I’ll always be in his shadow, always a little less important. Normally, I can deal with it, but Dare’s earlier accusations still float through my mind.

You’re only apawn.

Mood darkening, I sip the last of my champagne.Is it even possible to hate someone more than I hate Dare?

“Looks like I finally got you alone,” Eric purrs, running his knuckles down my arm.

My body instantly stiffens, and I recoil, all my senses telling me to run.I guess the answer is yes. Eric is definitely on the top of myhope you get an STDlist.

“Actually, I was just leaving.” I start to walk away, but Eric snatches my wrist and pulls me into his body.

“Rosalynn,” he coos. “Don’t be a tease. I know you wore that dress for me.”

Rage lights up my insides. Who does this guy think he is? “Let me go,” I say, voice calm enough that I deserve an Oscar.

“Dance with me.” Before I can tell him to get fucked, he drags me into the fray.

With so many people watching, I have no choice but to follow, gliding across the floor with a plastic smile that makes me hate myself. As Dad’s gaze catches mine, he nods in approval, too focused on the deal to realize how much I hate Eric’s touch.

Eric pulls a fancy maneuver and brings me around to face him, placing one palm on my back and using the other to keep my hand hostage. The slow song is swoony and romantic, the exact opposite of how I feel.

“See, isn’t this nice?”

“Are you enjoying your night?” I ask to avoid answering, looking anywhere but at the man who can’t take no for an answer. His dancing is the one good thing about this moment.

“It’s better now that you’re in my arms,” Eric murmurs.

Don’t encourage him. Let him downfirmly but nicely.

“Eric,” I begin, flicking my eyes to meet his. “You’re an amazing guy.”

“I know.”

Lord, help me.

“But I don’t think you’re the one for me.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Still denying it?”

I shake my head. “No, Eric, I’m serious. I’m happily single, and I really want to focus on my career.” Maybe making it about work instead of him will lessen the blow.

“No, Rosalynn. I think you need a man to take care of you, so you can finally embrace your feminine side.” He tugs me closer. “Every woman needs a protector.”

What in the alpha-bro podcast is he smoking?

“Like I said, I’m happily single?—”

He huffs. “Will you stop playing hard to get already? We could be great together.”

Don’t give in.

“I don’t have time to date.” I lift a shoulder. “But I’m sure a man like you won’t stay single for long.” The song is coming to an end, and I pointedly step back, wrenching my hand out of his grasp. “Thank you for the dance.”

Slipping away before he can try to stop me, I quickly glance around for an escape. Dad is surrounded by men and women, eager for his attention. I leave him to the parasites and skirt around tables and hit the bar, ordering a martini. Luckily, another woman swooped in for a dance with Eric, and propriety keeps him from denying her.

As soon as my drink is in hand, I flee to the wraparound terrace, breathing in the fresh, crisp autumn air. It’s cold enough that the terrace is mostly empty, and best of all, Eric is still inside.

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