Page 46 of Wicked Beautiful (Wicked Games 1)
I swing my legs over the side of the bed, down the rest of the coffee, and hand the empty mug back to Tabby. “All right. I’m up. What’s on deck?”
“Weekly phone conference with Katie at ten-thirty; lunch with your editor at Per Se at one; three o’clock meeting with your PR firm to discuss the next book launch; your trainer’s coming at five; and Alyssa and Jenny are scheduled for six sharp. But you know they’re always fifteen minutes late, so you’ll have a chance to take a quick shower after Duke leaves. They should have you ready to go no later than seven-thirty, so you’ll be on time at eight.”
Alyssa and Jenny are the hair and makeup girls I have come over when I need to get glamorized for an event. “Remind me; what’s at eight?”
“The mayor’s cocktail party.”
“Shit. I thought that was last night.”
“Do you think I’d let you go tarting around the city last night with Mr. It’s Not Personal if you were supposed to be at the mayor’s?”
I mutter, “I hate his cocktail parties. Every time his wife gets drunk and tries to follow me into the bathroom to get advice about how to get him to have more sex with her. Like I’m Dr. friggin’ Ruth or something. And his guest list sucks. And his house always smells like hot dogs.”
“You won’t hate this one.”
The conviction in Tabby’s voice makes me glance up at her. “Why not?”
Her sphinxlike smile returns. “This year your friend the mayor has invited a special guest.”
I cock my head.
“Who may or may not be testing the waters to see how much local support he can drum up for his upcoming campaign.”
My brows lift.
“For Congress.”
We stare at each other. I say, “Seriously, does the universe love me, or what?”
“And the new Armani you ordered with the pornographic side slit and the plunging neckline came in this morning.”
“This is gonna be like shooting puppies in a barrel.”
I stand, stretch, and smile broadly at Tabby, my feelings of weakness and vulnerability washed away with the morning sun.
I can do this. What I’ve been feeling around Parker is just nerves. It’s perfectly normal to be unsettled by his reappearance in my life, but now I need to focus on the prize and put those nerves aside.
Reinvigorated, I head to the bathroom. Tabby follows close behind.
“Can I make one tiny suggestion?”
“Not if it involves trying to talk me out of my plan.”
Her sigh is loud and overly dramatic. “No. I know that’s useless.”
“Speak then, minion.”
I squeeze a blob of toothpaste onto my toothbrush, run it quickly under the tap, and then stick it in my mouth and begin a vigorous brushing.
Tabby says, “Well, I was just thinking that since it was pretty intense between you and Parker last night—”
“How do you know it was intense?” I interrupt. Only it comes out sounding like “Ow ouuno ewuz ennenze?” because my mouth is full of foam.
Her lips twist into a wry pucker. “I saw the paparazzi pics, boss. Slow dancing? Snuggling under a pile of blankies in the carriage? Lots and lots of kissing while doing both? Pretty steamy stuff.”
Oh. Right. I spit into the sink and wave my toothbrush, indicating she should continue.
“Anyway, since it was intense last night, maybe tonight you should throw him for a little loop. Just for shits and giggles. Mix things up.”
