Page 11 of Playing Pretend

I roll my eyes and return my hand to my side. When I pivot toward the bar, my hope for the brief respite of isolation plummets at the sight of Pete passing a pink cocktail to his wife before grabbing one for himself.

“We need to get our story straight,” I mutter. “What did you say to my boss on the phone?”

“Not much.”

Pete strides our way, his eyes narrowing at the sight of us. Or more specifically, at the successful property developer by my side. “Piper,” he greets with extra enthusiasm. “And you must be Rome.”

“It’s good to put a face to the voice.” Rome thrusts out a hand and the men shake. “Thanks again for allowing my last-minute intrusion.”

“Don’t mention it.” Pete waves him away and turns to his wife. “I’d like you to meet my better half, Sue.”

I wipe my palms over my jeans feeling stale after being cooped up in the car, while the beautiful redhead eats up the sight of my companion. She stands tall in her stunning see-through beach dress, her bright pink bikini visible beneath.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Mr. Cavanaugh,” she practically croons before taking a sip of her cocktail.

Rome shoots me a glance. “Has my little Pip been talking to everyone about me?”

“I assume she’s referring to your business reputation.” I smile tightly through my need to glare, then switch my attention to the boss’s wife. “It’s so good to see you again, Sue.”

“You, too, honey. You need to get yourself a drink and join us by the pool.”

“I assure you, it’s my top priority. We’ll see you over there in a minute.” I drag Rome toward the bar, not stopping until I’m immersed in the crowd of people banked up, waiting to be served.

“Relax.” He nestles into my side, his palm sliding across my lower back. “You look like you’re in a hostage situation.”

I feel like it, too.

“Can you refrain from calling meyourlittle Pip?” I stare straight ahead at the Hawaiian shirt of the man waiting in front of me, refusing to look at Rome’s smug face. “It’s not exactly professional, is it?”

“No problem.” He leans in, his mouth so close to my ear his breath tickles my neck. “Would you prefer if I stuck withmy love?”

A shiver skitters over my skin.

“Piper,” I grate. “I just want you to call me Piper.”

His thumb rubs in lazy circles along my back, the movement small but the resulting sensation monumental. He’s exceptionally better at this than I am. So much so that my nerve endings tingle with annoyance.

He’s making me look like I’m a failure under pressure, which isn’t the case.

I’ve handled high-pressure real-estate negotiations worth millions.

I’ve worked with celebrities. Tycoons. International investors.

I’m an asset. Yet he’s making me seem like a liability.

“Why don’t I get the drinks while you make yourself at home with your colleagues?” His tone holds a hint of humor. “You can warn them not to discuss how much you talk about me.”

“Of course I talk about you.” I sigh and turn to face him. “You’ve been my best friend since birth. Apart from Rett, who else is there to chat about?”

“Are you sure there’s not more to it than that?” He waggles his brows.

“Oh, my God.” An incredulous laugh bursts free. “You’re delusional.”

He grins, flirty and fun, but it’s his eyes that slay me. The way he stares deep into the heart of me to tinker with my emotions. He’s putting way too much effort into this charade.

“I, umm…” My stomach tumbles, catching me off-guard. “Yes… It would be great if you could get the drinks.”

I need space.

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