Page 91 of Miss Trust

Tory

It didn’t take a genius to recognize the woman approaching was trouble. The word was written all over her. She was beautiful, in a sparkling mini-dress with her long brown hair curled in waves down her shoulders. By the way Chance stiffened beside me, I gathered he knew her.

“Chance Maxwell, I thought it was you,” she cooed. She went straight for a hug, leaving me no choice but to let go of his hand.

Her date looked bored. A handsome guy, he seemed more like he was rented than someone who had an actual connection with Maria. “What’s up? I’m Adam.”

“Hi, Adam. I’m Tory.”

Chance had to pry Maria off of him. “Maria, this is my date, Tory. Tory, this is Maria, the building manager for my nightclub.”

Her brows went high. “Thought you didn’t bring dates to functions. Isn’t that what you told me?”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Times have changed.”

She huffed. “Yes, well, I’m not just his building manager, am I, Chance?” She turned towards me. “Your date and I spent an incredible weekend in my penthouse suite, didn’t we?”

“It was months ago. And now isn’t the time to discuss it, Maria,” Chance warned.

But she wasn’t listening. “I’ve never known a man quite so gifted with his—”

“That’s enough,” Chance interrupted.

“It was nice to meet you, Maria.” I took his arm. “But we were just leaving because, you know…a girl can only go so long without his talents.” I figured the best way to deal with a jealous ex-lover was simply to leave. As much as I’d have loved to pull out her extensions, this was a classy gala, and I was trying to stay classy, at least for the moment.

Chance’s neck turned red.

“Take care now.” I led him towards the entrance. I could feel the tension rolling off of him in waves.

“Well, that was fun,” I said as we emerged to the porte cochere of the casino.

“I don’t need you fighting my battles,” came his terse response. He let go of me to type something into his phone.

“What?” His angry response was so unexpected I actually stopped in my tracks.

“The car is on the way.”

“Great. Have a good ride back. I’ll take a cab.” I turned.

I hadn’t taken two steps before he strode in front of me. “You’re not taking a cab.”

“Do you think for one minute I’m getting into a limo with you when you’re in a pissy mood? And over what? Because I led you away from Maria and outside? Did you want to stay?”

“Of course I didn’t,” he whisper yelled. “But you demeaned yourself. You acted like you were the new flavor of the week and let her get away with her catty comments.”

“I didn’t let her get away with anything. As for the flavor, who cares?”

“I care. You and Maria have nothing in common. She was a fling, and you’re—you’re—”

“I’m what?” I held my breath wondering what he was about to say.

“You’re more.”

More. Such a simple word with so many meanings. “Women like her, they’re just hoping for a reaction. What she did wasn’t for your benefit. It was for mine. To make me angry with you and jealous and ruin our night. Did she succeed?”

He let out a long breath. “No, but I almost did. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted on the condition you feed me.” At his mischievous look, I clarified. “Food. A burger and fries, to be exact.”