Page 206 of Push

After we wriggled out of the limo, I stood up tall and straightened my dress. I could’ve lived without stuffing myself into a cocktail frock at least a size too small and tottering around on heels with my bad knee. Yet here we were.

“Smokin’ hot, doll,” Toby said with a wink.

“Right back at ya, big guy.”

“Aw, shucks.” Toby’s joking around didn’t hide his blush. He’d always been a sucker for a compliment. “Shall we?” He presented his elbow, and I hooked my arm around his.

We followed Liam’s directions to find a stuffy man in a suit behind a glass-paneled reception desk. The twinkle of chandeliers bounced off the crystal walls to light up his bald head. The Platinum Lounge was invitation only—or so the man sniffed at us before Toby interrupted to explain who’d invited us.

“Oh, I, uh… Yes. Mr. Crawford has already arrived,” the man said, flustered, dashing out from behind the reception desk. “If you’ll follow me. He’s arranged a seat for you with the best view.”

Toby was unimpressed on our journey across the marble floors and through the people dotted around different gaming tables. “How is this the best view?” he whispered to me. “You can’t even see the harbor from back here!”

“Liam does love lurking in darkened corners,” I said.

Toby grunted in agreement. “Him and hisbrooding.”

The balding man stopped. He stretched out his hand, motioning for us to continue on our own. “This way. I trust I don’t need to remind you that phones are not permitted at the gaming tables. Mr. Crawford has instructed me not to, well…” He stammered to a stop. “This is as far as I’m permitted to go.”

“That dude seems nervous,” Toby whispered as the man scurried off.

“Liam must be in one of his moods.”

“Who stole his KitKat this time?”

“If the staff-wide email is anything to go by, the fridge thief helped themselves to his raspberry macaron.”

“Naughty, Gwen. No work emails. You’re supposed to be on vacation, remember?”

I cocked an eyebrow. “What are you gonna do about it?”

“I’ll teach you a lesson bydefilingyou later.” Toby grinned.

Feeling ten years younger, I giggled and snuggled closer to him. We approached the velvet lounges on the back wall in perfect step together.

Impeccably dressed in a suit as always, Liam sat with one leg crossed over the other, his burgundy socks with cats on full display, busy tapping away on his phone. A pretty brunette with pouty red lips sat beside him with her chin in her hand. She blinked wistfully at the gaming tables. The click of our shoes hadn’t quite reached the table when Liam whispered something into the crook of her neck, and she rose, smiling when he dropped some casino chips in her outstretched hand. She breezed past us without a glance.

“Sweetheart,” Liam’s eyes lifted to Toby with one of his fake smiles. “Don’t you polish up nicely?”

“Sure do.” Toby tugged on his jacket lapels. “I’m drop-dead gorgeous. Hey, was that the chick from that reality show?” he asked, motioning for me to sit on the lounge first. “She’s British, right?”

“I have no idea,” Liam muttered absently as he tapped on his phone.

Toby sat beside me. His arm slung around my shoulders. “You don’t know where your girlfriend’s from?”

“She’s most certainly not my”—Liam winced—“girlfriend.”

“Er, lady…companion?”

“I don’t know her. I have no interest in getting to know her.” Liam tucked his phone inside his jacket. “The paparazzi took some nice photos when we arrived, and she gets an evening here among the riffraff of high society. That’s the extent of the arrangement.”

“Right. Okay.” Toby still looked confused. “And what do you get out of it?”

“I can’t exactly be a womanizer if I’m never seen with a woman, can I?”

“Youwantpeople to think you’re a womanizer?” Toby asked incredulously.

Liam’s lips pressed into a thin line.

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