Page 40 of Married As Puck
“Brie!” she exclaims with a fake excitement. Her arms spread like we’re friends. “You look absolutely stunning.”
Her dress is baby pink. If I didn’t dislike her so much, I’d tell her she looks cute. But I bare my teeth in what I hope comes off as a polite smile.
“Miranda. You’re here.” I glance around. She could literally be anywhere else.
“Oh, darling, I go where the fun is. And it’s quite the turn out, so I’m glad I came.”
A beautiful fake smile spreads across her face. She is really taking our bosses advice about being gracious and now going overboard. Her eyes flick to Cameron, then back to me.
“Hi, there. I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” she says, extending a hand to him. “I’m Miranda Green.”
Cameron nods at her without taking her hand. “So, you know who I am then,” he replies, and I find myself smiling inwardly.
“Of course. I’d be living under a rock if I didn’t know who you are. I always watch your games, and I have to admit, you’re a crazy good athlete, Mr. Gray.” She says the last part with a purr.
I resist the urge to gag at her words. It’s obvious that she fancies Cameron. She leans closer, shoulder brushing mine, angling her body toward Cameron like I’m not standing beside him.
Not tonight, witch.
I slide my arm through Cameron’s and rest my head on his shoulder casually.
“Sweetheart,” I say loud enough for her to hear, “can we get another drink?”
Cameron stiffens, glancing down at me, caught off guard.
I beam up at him and bat my lashes.
His smile returns. “Sure, baby. Anything you want.” The way he says the endearment sends delightful shivers down my spine. That’s the nicest tone he has ever used with me.
Miranda’s smile falters. She tries again, throwing Cameron a question about some game that happened last month, but I cutin with a laugh, patting his chest. “He’s too modest to admit it, but he played like a champion that night.”
Miranda’s jaw tightens. When she realizes we’re about to leave her stranded, her sweetness turns sour.
“Well,” she says tightly, “enjoy your evening. It was good to see you,” she says to Cameron and turns on her heel.
I let out a sigh of relief. Good riddance!
Cameron smirks down at me. “We don’t like her, do we?”
“No,” I mutter, pulling away, though the butterflies in my stomach are doing backflips.
We don’t get the chance to dance because he’s surrounded by more acquaintances, vying for his attention. He insists I stay by his side, and I do my best to contribute intelligently to his little conversations, earning more respect in their eyes.
“Whose idea was it for you to put these pearls in your hair?” he asks sometime later, tucking in a stray strand of my hair.
“The stylist. Why?”
“It’s beautiful.” That’s one of the many compliments he has sent my way tonight and I almost blush again but remind myself that he’s doing it for show.
“Thanks,” I say anyway.
I shy away, trying to hold in my blush when my eyes meet with blue eyes right across the room. He’s tall, dressed in a white tux, sporting a buzz cut. He’s smiling as he sips from a glass, his eyes locked on me.
A chill runs down my spine and I break my gaze. I try to shake it off but when I look back, he’s still in that same spot smiling. Slowly, he raises the glass in a toast.
Before I can call Cameron’s attention to him, he’s gone, slipping into the crowd like he was never there.
I clutch Cameron’s sleeve. “There was a man over there watching me. He was smiling like he knew me, but I’m certain I have no idea who he is.”
