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TWENTY-ONE
I did not want to do what I was about to do.
Earlier when I called Martin to tell him I’d found the perfect place for his business associates—and I’d managed to do that without throwing up in my mouth—he told me he was busy in meetings and he’d call me when he was ready for me. Then I’d had a slew of calls for other guests needing my attention so I was unable to sneak over to the Sky Jewel. This had made Wilson grumpy because he wouldn’t see me before he had to leave to go to the party. It also meant that Asher acted as my driver, taking me back to my place. This served double duty. I needed more clothes but if Gavin was still following me, he’d see me going home.
Asher had snuck up to my condo using the back delivery elevator while I used the main resident entrance.
It was all very Mission Impossible.
Now I was back at the mansion, it was late and I knew the party would be kicking off. And it was now that Martin had deemed the time for us to meet.
I didn’t want to be here for a plethora of reasons; mainly because I already knew what was happening behind the ornate mahogany door in front of me. Then there was Wilson. He’d be inside and I really didn’t want to see a bevy of beautiful women circling him. Or Eden. I really didn’t want to see that woman at all.
It was now or never.
The faster I went in, talked to Martin, the quicker I’d be on my way back to the Sky Jewel.
I pushed open the door and was immediately assaulted by the sound of music, flowery perfume, and way more people than I’d seen at the other parties.
Shit.
If this got too out of hand and someone complained, management would come over and ask Martin to tell his guests to leave.
I thought about the sweet Osborns downstairs. They wouldn’t be home from their show for a few hours but Mr. Osborn would complain.
I saw George making his way through the crush of people, beelining for me.
Great.
George.
“Good evening—”
“Mr. Jackson’s waiting for you in the library.”
Before I did anything, like say, turned toward the hall that took me to the library, George grabbed my elbow.
“Hey.” I yanked my arm away. “I know where the library is.”
“Mr. Jackson left strict instructions I’m to escort you.”
“You can do that without manhandling me,” I informed him.
George’s scowl turned nasty. I stepped back.
Eden appeared looking every bit the call girl madam in her glittery champagne-colored dress and sky-high heels, face and hair perfectly done up.
“Is there a problem?”
Yes.
There was a problem, I just wasn’t sure what it was exactly.
George had never been particularly polite or nice but he’d never been scowly and mean.
“Mr. Jackson wants Miss Levine escorted to the library.”
“I’ll take her.” Then Eden’s cool gaze came to me. “Good evening, Miss Levine. Thank you for coming up on such short notice.”
