Page 6 of The Prince's Game
Marketing was my undergraduate degree, but I had a minor in art. Creativity ran in the Summer genes. Abby was the painter, and I was the photographer. Our mother was the romantic visionary. She couldn’t draw to save her life, but she could tell a story that would melt every heart in a room. My dad was a financial planner and also the one I inherited my business skills from despite being taken from me at an early age. I missed him every day.
“Wine?” The waiter knew my favorite drink.How wonderful.
“Yes, please.” I took a glass of the white and found a seat near the back of the room. I chose a table with bad lighting to better see outside. City colors decorated the night sky, giving the sky an alluring orange-black hue.Gorgeous.
Joseph and Carrie made a grand entrance a half hour later with Paul and his crew of minions right behind them. Cue cards flashed, telling the contestants to be quiet and gather around the hosts. We moved to the center of the well-lit room to await further instruction. Bianca stood beside me, radiating tension. Amber picked at some invisible lint from her dress, ignoring the death glare she was receiving.Uh, okay. Catfight, anyone?
“Ladies, Evan will be arriving in just a few minutes.” Clapping and high-pitched shrieks broke out at Joseph’s words, making me cringe. The man was hot, butcome on. “He had to go pick up a few guests.”
“Yes, some members of Evan’s family are joining us.” Carrie’s voice had a high quality to it, reminding me of a bell. “I suggest saying hi and making them feel welcome. You never know what they might say to our prince.” Murmurs of who might be here flooded the room while the hosts went back to the door and waited. I picked up a new glass of wine and went back to my seat by the windows.
“Are you all ready?” Joseph’s deep voice carried through the oval-shaped room. “Evan’s outside. The future Princess of New Orleans is in this room somewhere, and he’s anxious to come inside and get to know her better. Let’s make him feel welcome.” Excited squeals broke through the air, making the hair on my arms stand on end. This was not my scene.
The girls rushed Evan as he entered, forcing him to take a step back. His bemused expression made me grin into my wine glass. His life was surreal. I couldn’t begin to imagine what was going through his head.Thirty girls are trying to seduce me. How many can I take to bed with me tonight? Wasn’t this a man’s dream come true? The start of a good porn film?
The cameras followed the mob into the room, and I laughed as Evan was dragged down onto the couch by four of the women. One of them was Amber, and she wasted no time in putting a hand on him. He had a helpless expression on his face that made me feel sorry for him. Poor guy was living every male fantasy come to life at once and had no idea how to handle it.
When a curvy brunette walked over a few minutes later and grabbed his hand, he followed her outside to a secluded seating area out of view. A hoard of women went to the windows to watch, while I admired the water again. No way was I getting involved in any of that shit.
“Mind if I sit down?”
3
Meddling Cousins
The deep male drawl belonged to a man with thick blond hair, who was dressed in a charcoal-grey suit. He draped his arm around the chair in question and cocked an eyebrow.
“Uh, sure. Go for it.” His dark gaze reminded me of Evan, but this wasn’t his brother. Wyatt had brown hair in his pictures. “You must be the cousin.” I didn’t read much about him, but I knew he grew up with the Mershano family after his parents died. “William, right?”
“I prefer Will.” He swirled his glass of red wine and cocked his head to the side. “And you are?”
“Sarah Summers.” Two cameramen danced around us, filming from different angles. I did my best to ignore the annoying duo.
“Why are you sitting all alone in the corner, darlin’?” The flirtatious smile seemed to be a natural fixture on his handsome face. Like Evan, he was athletically built and easy on the eyes, but there was a harder edge to Will despite the carefree air. The hand toying with the stem of his glass was rough and calloused. Those marks spoke of hard labor, not the cultured background of a groomed billionaire.
“I was enjoying the view.” Honesty never hurt anyone.
“View?”
I gestured to the window and the water outside. “Looking at the lighting over the water. Eerie, right? Just sort of drew me in, I guess.”
“Huh.” He tipped the glass to his full lips and studied me over the rim. “Not bad, but shouldn’t you be trying to get Evan’s attention?”
The beehive of women around him made that option unappealing. “Perhaps, but he’s busy.”
“So you won’t even try?”
Aware of the camera on us, I kept it light. “Maybe I’m shy.”
“Or maybe you’re hoping the standoffish thing will attract his attention?”
Uh no. I kept it vague with a shrug. The videotaping was getting old fast. Maybe if I bored them to death, they would leave. “So, what do you do for a living?”
He cocked a blond brow. “You don’t know what I do?”
“Uh . . .” Was I supposed to look that up? “No?” My research was on names, pictures, and stock details.
“You’re drinking it, darlin’,” he said as I took a sip of the wine. I pulled back the glass to examine it. The fruity notes were delicious, if a little dry.
