Page 31 of Maximum Dare
I stood on the curbside with my heart still racing and watched Max pull into traffic. Remembering the way his cologne made my nipples bead with pleasure caused fury to surge through me.
It turned out that hating Max Marquis was easy. He was an arrogant bastard with a pretty face. His full lips had a magnetic pull that could make you believe all your problems would go away with just one kiss.
I pulled the invitation out of my purse and peeled open the envelope.
The Dare Club
Fun events to bring you closer to a new you.
7 PM
The Waldorf Hotel
Upper Floor Bar
Casual Attire.
Well, this was stupid and so not me.
The event was tomorrow night.
I was not havinganythingto do with this crappy idea. I’d never been the daring sort before and I had no interest in being that kind of girl now. This invite was going in the trash bin.
Max obviously had no idea what he’d given me.
Once inside the house, I paused at the bottom of the staircase. The invite had been addressed to Morgan because she was daring. She was fun. She was everything a man could want in a woman.
You know what…
Morgan wasn’t the only one who had an Instagram page. I had one, too. And Nick still followed my account. Posting a snapshot of me at a Dare Club might get his attention. All I needed to do was tweak his curiosity by letting him see I was attending the event, making me look spontaneous—even if I remained on the sidelines.
No daring deeds required.
Riding the lift to the top floor of the Waldorf Hotel, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the walled mirror. I looked pretty in my new glasses. Even if they were the result of Max Marquis’ evil meddling—his way of getting me to let my guard down so he could pay me to go away.
Shortly before leaving home, I had changed my outfit for the third time. Now I had on jeans and a white blouse. I’d also added some delicate silver jewelry to round out my casual I-haven’t-really-tried look.
I almost bit through my lip at the thought that I would soon be ready to post photos of me dabbling in the spontaneous—or pretending to, anyway.
Stepping out of the lift, I hurried toward the small crowd gathered near the bar. A young man wearing aDare ClubT-shirt was talking to a group of people, all eager-looking adventurers. The mood was as ebullient as you’d expect it to be, coming from a bunch of losers like me.
“Hi, there, I’m Ted,” he greeted me. “I’m your Dare Club guide.”
I gave him a nervous smile. “Daisy.”
“We’re thrilled you decided to join us.”
Join is a strong word.
He looked down at the envelope I was holding out, his expression one of confusion. “You signed up online?”
“I just have this,” I said, tucking the envelope back in my handbag.
“What’s your last name?”
“Whitby.”
Ted glanced at his clipboard. “Yeah, I have you down.”
