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“Not Allie? I must have had it wrong.”
Evan looked at me for permission.
I nodded slightly, keeping my mega-smile in place.
“Alexa Borelli is her full name, but I’ve called her Allie for years.”
Xenia pulled the microphone back. “It seems you’ve been dating for quite a while now, at least for you.” She added a cackle.
Evan didn't miss a beat, pulling me close against him. “Alexa and I are just beginning.” Then he pulled me away in the direction of the next inquisition. “That wasn’t too bad, was it?” he asked softly into my ear.
I nodded while hoping my smile muscles could hold out long enough.
By the fifth of these, I was getting tired of the same old questions. Tell us how you knew each other before. Where did you meet up again? What was the most romantic place he’s taken you? Who are you wearing tonight? And my personal favorite, who did your hair tonight? As if anybody cared.
“How do I get these idiots to cut it short?” I asked Evan as we moved to the next blogger or whoever the hell she was.
He leaned in. “I don’t know. Maybe barf on the microphone.”
The next one, a girl with a purple streak in her hair asked the same inane questions as the others and I repeated much the same answers. Then she surprised me. “What do you call Evan when you’re alone? Anything like Sharkey? You do know they call him the Shark of Wall Street, right?”
“I’ve heard that, but I think it’s only related to his business dealings.” I put my finger up to Evan’s mouth. “Show us your teeth, Baby.”
He smiled for me.
“See. His teeth aren’t that sharp.”
The girl kept at us. “If not Sharkey, what’s your pet name for him?”
“I call him Thor because he’s really strong and he has a reeeealy big…”
Evan yanked me away. “Gotta move on. Thanks for the time.”
I looked up at him and batted my eyelashes. Serves you right, big guy for making me go through this shit. I didn’t say the words out loud, but his tightening grip on my hand indicated he got the message.
“Wow,” the girl said, as we left her. “We’ll try to catch up with Alexa again later.”
The next girl had a pink streak in her hair. Somehow color streaks had become a thing without me noticing. She started with the same questions and we answered on autopilot and even managed to avoid any eye rolls.
I was explaining our childhood meeting when Evan whispered into my ear. “Bogey two o’clock.”
I looked over.
Fergus McAllister glared at us.
I kept my smile on and waved back to him. “What’s his problem?” I asked my man.
Pink Hair looked that way
Fergus pointed over to the corner.
“It looks like he wants to talk to me,” Evan said as he pulled away.
I pulled back. “We should finish here first.”
“And who is that?” Pink Hair asked.
“His father. He probably wants Evan to adjust his hearing aids.”
