Chapter 44

Jessica Stanley was in her element.

Seated in the Four Seasons Grand Ballroom at a table overlooking Elliot Bay, she was surrounded by her best girlfriends and their suited-up dates, with a not-so-virgin cocktail in one hand and the arm of a drop-dead gorgeous guy in the other.

This was the life.

She smiled at her date and gave his forearm a squeeze. “Thanks for the vodka and cranberry,” she said. “It certainly wouldn’t have been the same with just the cranberry.” She raised her glass, then grimaced at the ugly neon-orange bracelet that dangled from her wrist. The paper eyesore marking her as a minor was more than a minor irritant to her. Not only did she have to beg her date to get real drinks for her, the bracelet was tacky and clashed horribly with her dress.

“It’s called a Cape Cod. And you’re welcome,” he replied in a low, velveteen voice. Very seductive, that tone. He lifted his gin and tonic in a matching toast and said, “I could get arrested for buying you drinks, you know.”

“That’s what you’re afraid of getting arrested for?” she retorted in amusement. “I would think that’s the least of your worries.”

His smirk faded. He looked like he was about to speak, but then pressed his lips together as if he thought better of it.

That’s right - hold your tongue, Edward Cullen, she thought, with a smirk of her own. You know which legality you should really worry about.

She appraised him for a moment, wondering if she would sleep with him at the end of the night. She must concede that Bella Swan had good taste. Ridiculously handsome, well-mannered, glibly charming - the man sitting next to her would be difficult to resist, especially after a few more vodkas. But when she thought about all the places his gabardine-concealed dick had been, a slight shudder went down her spine. Not to mention, she wasn’t about to settle for Bella’s sloppy seconds.

She still couldn’t believe that the mousy girl she’d known in high school actually had the balls to hire a male prostitute. She’d assumed Bella’s drunken admission at the dorm party last month had merely been a joke, or a substance-induced hallucination. Bella tried to play it off as such at her birthday celebration last week. But as soon as Jessica heard Mike and Riley talking about the “Edward” who’d showed up in a suit that Friday night to walk Bella’s drunk ass home, she knew it was no joke, and no coincidence. How many young guys by the old-fashioned name of Edward were walking around the city? It had to be the same guy Bella claimed had taken her V-card.

She grimaced at the thought of paying a stranger to be her first, even though she could see the logic in it. A professional would undoubtedly know what he was doing, unlike the moronic frat boy she’d given it up to last year. And Edward Cullen certainly had a dreamy, Prince-Charming allure. But it was sad - no, pathetic - that Bella had bought the fantasy literally as well as figuratively. It was one thing to hire some gigolo for sex, but quite another to go around telling people he was her boyfriend. She knew that was the line Bella was feeding to Mike in order to put him off. He deserved better than that. He’d always deserved better than oblivious Bella, who never seemed to appreciate what she had. Apparently normal, good-hearted guys like Mike and Jacob Black weren’t enough for her. She had to go trolling the internet for stud service instead. Mike deserved to know the unvarnished truth about her.

And tonight, if luck was on her side, Jessica would deliver it to him in spades.

She gave a sly smile to the good-luck charm sitting next to her. He gave her a careful smile in return. His wary expression made her wonder if he could somehow sense her plans for him this evening. Maybe Bella was one of his regular customers, and he’d told her what he was doing tonight. That would definitely put a monkey wrench in the works. But Jessica had a hard time believing that was the case. She doubted he discussed his clientele with one another. He’d have to be a complete idiot to do that. And regardless of whatever else he was, she could see that Edward Cullen was no dummy.

“So, have you come up with a cover story yet?” she asked him. During the ride to the hotel, Edward had inquired if she had any preferences for who she’d like him to pretend to be this evening. She didn’t. He could claim he was an astronaut or a deep-sea diver for all she cared. By the end of the evening, the choice would be moot.

“I’m a professional pianist,” he announced.

“Professional penis?” she exclaimed, a split-second before she realized what he’d actually said.

He gave her a patronizing look. “Pi-an-ist,” he repeated, enunciating each syllable. “I’m a musician. A piano-player for a jazz group that plays in the area.”

“Oh, right. Cool,” she said with a shrug. “That’ll work. Very classy.”

“I’m glad you approve,” he said with a curt smile.

Jessica’s eyes strayed to the front of the ballroom, where a band was setting up. The musicians were dressed like 1950s Rat Packers to fit the retro theme of All-Greek Cocktail.

“Too bad your profession is lie - there’s a baby grand piano up there,” she noted. “You could impress the hell out of everyone if you actually played.”

“Is that what you’re after this evening? Impressing everyone?”

She was sure she detected a condescending tone in his voice, though his face was the picture of congeniality.

“Why else would I hire you for a big bash like this? I wanted to make an impact. And I’m pretty sure you’ll do exactly that.”

His eyes hardened with a quick flash of distaste, or maybe distrust. But his affable grin was immovable.

“Maybe I can slip a quick concerto in between sets from the band if you think that will annoy your ex-boyfriend, or whoever it is you’re looking to make jealous. Assuming, of course, that you have a specific target in mind for this big impression you want to make.”

Jessica should have known she wouldn’t get much past this guy. He’d obviously been around the block a time or three. She put one elbow on the table and leaned toward him, debating. It was so tempting to spill the beans. But that would spoil all the fun. Patience, she reminded herself. Once Mike and Bella showed up, this whole web of deception would unravel all on its own.

All she had to do was sit back and wait for the precise moment to pull the thread.

“You assume correctly,” she said, giving Edward a coy smile. “I do have a specific target in mind. But you don’t need to worry about that. You just be your charming self and leave the rest up to me. But in the meantime, could you get me another drink? These martini glasses don’t hold much.” She waved the empty vessel before setting it back on the table.

He definitely looked a bit suspicious now, his perma-grin crumbling on one side. But he gave her a conciliatory nod, got up from the table and headed back to the bar. She took the opportunity to scour the ballroom for Mike’s telltale spiky blond hair or Bella’s pallid complexion in the throng. There were so many people here, they could be anywhere. To complicate matters, the Sycamore room across the foyer was rented for this shindig as well. It was decorated in a casino theme with card games being held at every table. Knowing Mike, he easily could be sidetracked with a round of poker and take his sweet time coming to the main ballroom.

She sighed and turned back to the table, reaching for the platter of crudités for something to munch on. The sorority sister to her right leaned in, heavily-lined eyes round with curiosity.

“Where the hell did you find that gorgeous guy sitting next to you?” she demanded. “He is hot and a half. I know I haven’t seen him walking around campus.”

“You wouldn’t. He’s not a student - he’s a little older. He’s a professional,” Jessica said, trying not to snigger.

“Professional what?” the girl pressed. She eyed Edward up and down as he walked back toward their table.

“You really don’t want to know,” Jessica replied, not bothering to hold back a snort this time. “Don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough.”

Edward glanced at Jessica’s smug countenance, then the baffled one of her friend, as he approached the table with two more drinks. The girls quickly parted and leaned back in their chairs, giving him matching grins of faux innocence.

“Should my ears be burning?” he wondered aloud, handing his date her second cranberry martini before sitting down.

“My friend here was just admiring your good looks and wondering what you did for a living,” Jessica explained, nodding to the blonde on her right. The girl’s cheeks turned scarlet.

“Ah. Thank you,” he said to the blonde. And then to Jessica, “What did you tell her?”

“I hadn’t gotten to that part yet. I was just about to tell her you’re a professional . . .” she paused, enjoying the resulting alarm that flitted through Edward’s eyes before she continued. “. . . pi-an-ist. If we’re lucky, you’ll wow us all later with your chops at the baby grand up there.”

He gave her the same plastic half-grin he’d worn all evening. “I’ll do my best not to disappoint you.”

Jessica grinned back, but her eyes were cutting. “I’m counting on it, Edward.”

.

.


“Wow.”

That was all Bella said as she and Mike strolled down the modern but elegant foyer on the second floor of the Four Seasons hotel. Her fingers tightened around his elbow, sending a little surge of excitement through him. He glanced over at her face, watching her big, brown eyes take in the splendor. They hadn’t even reached the ballroom yet, and she was already impressed.

“Nice, isn’t it?” he commented. “Have you ever been here before?”

“No. It’s pretty amazing.”

“This is my first time here, too. I guess the party is in a couple of rooms - the Sycamore, up here on the right, and the ballroom on the left.”

Bella nodded, peering to her right as they neared the entrance. The room had been turned into a makeshift casino, complete with a blackjack, roulette and poker tables. Dressed-up college kids milled around the room, gambling and ordering drinks from the bar at the back.

“Nice,” Mike enthused, pausing at the door next to Bella. “Reminds me of our prom, but a hell of a lot swankier.”

“No kidding,” she agreed with a laugh.

“Want to check it out?” he asked.

“Sure.” She looked agreeable enough, so he escorted her in. He searched the room for one of his fraternity brothers, hoping to find someone of age to get them real drinks. The matching orange bracelets he and Bella wore guaranteed an evening of kiddie cocktails if he didn’t find someone to hook them up with the good stuff.

“See anyone you know?” she asked.

“Not yet. But I know a couple of Delt brothers who rented rooms upstairs so we can have a beer or something to take the edge off.”

Bella shrugged. “I don’t have to drink this evening,” she said. “But if you want to, that’s fine. I can drive us back to the dorms later.”


“You don’t need to do that,” he protested. “I can get us a cab or we can crash in one of the rooms. I want you to have a good time, too.”

She looked slightly offended. “I don’t need to drink to have a good time.”

“Oh, I know. I wasn’t suggesting you did.” He bit his tongue as he ambled along side her toward the bar. She dropped his elbow and crossed her arms instead.

Shit. Why did he always screw things up? He didn’t want her to think he was trying to get her drunk. But the truth was, he did hope she’d have a couple of drinks so she’d loosen up and enjoy herself. He knew she wasn’t as naturally social as he was, but he also knew she could have a lot of fun if she’d only let herself - if she’d just forget to be so shy and self-conscious. A little liquor might accomplish that and put her at ease.

He took a deep breath as they approached the bar. “Virgin cocktails it is. Any preferences?” he queried.

“No, not really. I don’t really know drinks that well. Surprise me.”

“Okay.” He thought for a few seconds, then asked the bartender for suggestions. Moments later he walked away with two matching amber-colored drinks and handed one to Bella.

“Here you go - the alcohol-free version of a Surfer on Acid. I have no idea what they use instead of Jägermeister,” he said with a laugh.

“Surfer on Acid?” Bella giggled and raised her glass. “Cool. I’ll drink to that.”

Mike took a swig of the pineapple concoction and sorely wished for the missing rum and Jäger to cut the sweetness.

“How about a game?” he suggested. “Maybe some roulette?”

She readily agreed, and they headed to the gaming tables. When their turn came at the roulette wheel, Mike asked Bella to pick her lucky number.

She paused for a moment, and then quietly said, “Twenty-four.”

He thought he detected a certain softness, even tenderness, in her voice. He wondered what the hell that number signified to her. He wondered even more when the spinning marble miraculously plopped right into the twenty-four slot and Bella’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. She grinned and fingered her charm bracelet, staring at it like it was some kind of oracle.

“Well, that was some nice beginner’s luck,” Mike commented. “Too bad we’re only playing for chips instead of money.”

“That’s okay,” said, still grinning. “Money isn’t everything.”

“True, that. I’d trade it for your company any day.”

Bella rolled her eyes slightly and laughed. “Sure you would.”

“I would!” he insisted. He took her arm again, and she didn’t pull away. “How about we check out the ballroom?” he suggested, steering her toward the foyer.

She gamely followed him across the wide hallway to the entrance of the huge room, slowing as they neared the spectacle. The lushly carpeted space was lined with round linen-covered tables and chairs, lit by faux candles and adorned with fresh-cut flowers and platters of hors d’oeuvres. Taller, standing-room-only tables filled the center, with a large area carved out for dancing. A retro-style band was in full swing near the entryway, cranking out classics their grandparents had danced to interspersed with more modern songs the college kids would recognize. The eclectic mix had managed to jam the dance floor with grooving bodies. The scenic backdrop to the entire soirée was comprised of glass walls overlooking the moonlit waters of Puget Sound and Elliot Bay in the distance.

Mike felt Bella’s fingers grip his arm once more. Her eyes were wide as she spoke. “There are so many people here.”

“Well, there are almost four-thousand U-Dub students in the Greek system,” he reminded her, closing his fingers protectively over hers. “If only half of them showed up tonight, the place would still be packed. That’s why they rented two rooms, and tons of hotel rooms besides. It’s a huge bash. Kind of the event of the season. That’s why I didn’t want to miss it. Or you, either.”

She gave him a nod and a tiny smile, but she still looked uneasy.

“You want to dance?” he asked, thinking that blending into the crowd on the dance floor might be to her liking.

Instead, she looked even more panicked. “I’m not much of a dancer, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. That’s right,” he conceded. “I thought maybe you’d changed attitude about that. You never know.”

“No, I still have two left feet, for the most part,” she claimed, though he didn’t believe her. He really did want to get a glass of wine into her so she’d relax. Maybe he should have borrowed some of Riley’s stash so they could get lit before they came inside.

He scanned the room and gratefully spotted a few of his Delt brothers holding down a table on one side of the dance floor. He pointed them out to Bella, and she looked relieved to have a place to sit. As luck would have it, a few chairs were empty, their occupants currently on the dance floor. Mike pulled out a seat for Bella and introduced her to his buddies and their dates. They all sat and talked for a bit, commenting on the party and confirming which rooms they’d reserved upstairs for later, after the ballroom closed down.

Mike watched Bella closely. He was pleased to see her unwind a little and participate in the conversation. She seemed like she was enjoying herself well enough. He hoped so. He wanted to show her a good time, especially if that boyfriend of hers couldn’t. Maybe she would get tired of Suit Guy’s occupation keeping him busy on the weekends; maybe she would turn to Mike again to pass the time. And then maybe, just maybe, eventually she’d turn to him for more than that.

The band’s first set ended to sound of clapping and cheering. Soon the room was filled with the buzz of conversation and laughter instead, growing louder as more drinks were consumed. Mike leaned over to talk to the older frat brother on his left, enlisting his help in procuring some grown-up cocktails. The brother readily agreed to buy the drinks; Mike just needed to tag along and help carry them back to the table. He excused himself from Bella and followed his buddy to the bar at the back of the ballroom.

The line was long during the interim between music sets. Mike shifted his weight from one foot to the other, impatient to get back to Bella. He hoped she was doing all right, and that some of the girls at the table would talk to her. He hated to think of her sitting alone, feeling like a misfit. He never could understand why she always saw herself that way. She was smart, pretty and kind-hearted. Sure, she was shy and kind of clumsy, but in a cute way. Her awkwardness only endeared her to him. He longed to bring her out of her shell and give her some of his confidence; to make her see that she wasn’t the square peg she made herself out to be.

He sighed in frustration as the line shuffled along. Piano music began to waft back to him over the crowd. Shit, was the band starting up again already? How long had he been back at the bar, anyway?

His Delt brother finally gave his order to the bartender and paid the bill. Mike shoved his telltale orange bracelet under his suit jacket sleeve and picked up the drinks for him and Bella, thanking his buddy before hurrying back to the table. When he arrived, she was nowhere to be found. He looked around frantically for her blue dress and long, dark hair, trying to calm himself. She probably just went to the ladies room. He turned to one of his friends’ dates for information.

“Have you seen Bella?” he questioned her.

She pointed toward the dance floor. “I think she’s watching that guy playing the piano.”

Mike turned his head toward the front of the room, then began walking in that direction. Sure enough, there she was, standing at the edge of a small crowd that had gathered not far from the platform where the band’s instruments were set up. He could see her rigid posture as he approached, her back ramrod straight as she stood eerily still.

His eyes shifted to the baby grand that sat next to the platform. A man was seated there, playing an intricate, haunting melody - just the type of music to make chicks swoon, he thought with a grimace. He couldn’t see the man’s face clearly, as he was seated in profile, his back to their side of the room. But he soon recognized the girl in the hot-pink dress standing next to the piano. She was leaning on the instrument with a possessive assurance that earmarked her as the piano-player’s date.

He stared at her a moment, then chuckled to himself. Jessica Stanley did say she’d be bringing a guy who would “blow everyone out of the water.” Judging by the group of girls - Bella included - swarming the piano, she hadn’t been wrong.

When the impromptu concert came to an end, everyone applauded and hooted in appreciation.

“Edward Cullen, ladies and gentlemen!” Jessica exclaimed, clapping in loud exaggeration. Mike’s mouth dropped open in shock at her proclamation. His head whipped back to scrutinize the pianist. Sure enough, it was Suit Guy.

Bella’s Suit Guy.

Mike gaped at Jessica in horror as understanding dawned. She stared back at him, eyes wild with triumphant delight. Then she trained her sights on Bella, and her expression grew positively evil.

Mike watched helplessly, still holding a drink in each hand, as Jessica strode over to the piano bench, grabbed Suit Guy by the face and gave him a huge, wet kiss.