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Phoebe’s in a heated argument with a guy in a purposely ripped t-shirt as he insists on setting a table in a spot he thinks it should go, with total disregard for the detailed map Phoebe drew, photocopied, and passed around.
I’ve been hanging back, letting her fight her own fights so she doesn’t think I think she can’t handle it herself. But I can’t sit back any longer. This guy is so dumb nothing she’s saying is getting through to him and I can’t watch her flounder any longer when everything she’s doing should have been more than enough to get him to stop.
“Is there a problem here?”
The relief on Phoebe’s face surprises me. She’s so strong-willed and sure of herself that I didn’t expect her to react like that.
“The table should go here,” the ass hat in the ripped t-shirt says.
I hold up the floor plan and shake my head. “Reading comprehension might not be your strong suit, but it is mine. No tables go there.”
“But look—” He turns the paper and smirks. “The table goes right here.” Pressing his finger to the paper so hard it crinkles, he nods smugly at me, then at Phoebe, then makes a pathetic attempt to move the table himself.
I rest my arm on the table, ruining all chances he has of lifting it—or impressing the woman in the corner watching his every move. “Ms. Decker made this chart so user-friendly that I’m failing to see how you are having so much trouble.”
I reorient the paper, taking my time to point out all the landmarks she left this imbecile. “There’s the basketball hoop—and it’s clearly the one at this end of the court because this window’s right here. Now, if we look at the tables, does one really go here?”
The idiot in front of me has a lightbulb moment and has enough intelligence to squirm. “I—uh—I see it now.” He mumbles something else that I’m glad I don’t hear and walks away.
I turn to Phoebe, who’s watching me open-mouthed, her friend Lani by her side, equally speechless. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have taken over like that—”
But in an instant, Phoebe’s wrapping her arms around me and kissing my jaw, her friend disappearing to take care of another problem. “That asshole has been causing me trouble since my first year. He thinks he’s always right, but he pretty much never is.”
“It was nothing.” I unconvincingly hide my utter delight at pleasing her. Clearing my throat, I look around. “Why did you choose to have it in a gymnasium? Surely the college has event rooms or something?”
Phoebe bites the corner of her mouth and glances around. “The party planning committee didn’t give me that big of a budget and I thought our costumes would be more important than the venue.”
“You bought everyone’s costume?”
“Except mine,” she says, her cheeks turning pink. “Thank you again for my dress. It’s so beautiful.”
I lean down, grazing my lips against her ear. “I can’t wait to see you in it.”
I also can’t wait to lay into whoever’s in charge of budgeting for these events.
“I can’t wait to see you in—and out—of your outfit.” She looks up at me, a brazen, hungry ache across her face.
It took me all week to source as authentic of an outfit as I could find. Every second was worth it for the look she was giving me right now. And the look I knew she’d give me once she saw her own Mr. Darcy ready to escort her to the ball.
The way we’ll take each other out of those clothes piece by piece, layer by layer, tonight.
These dipshits setting up the room better not think they’re getting a dance with her because she’ll be mine all night. I’m already planning on filling up her dance card before anyone can object.
And after I have her for the night, I hope to have her forever.
Chapter Nine
Phoebe
“Oh! Phoebe, you look so pretty,” Lani gushes.
“Thanks, Lani.” I beam at her in the mirror and grab another section of hair.
“This dance was such a good idea.”
I snort and begin putting more pins in my hair than I knew it could fit. “I wish everyone thought that.”
Lani frowns at my reflection. “Stop worrying about what everyone else thinks. They’re going to go to this party and have a great time, and you’re the reason for that.”
