The Billionaire Game(9)

Grant came strolling up to us with the self-satisfied saunter of a man who has successfully parted several people from their not-terribly-hard-earned money for a good cause. He was accompanied by two other guys, one tall and sandy-haired in a rumpled suit, his square jaw and slight belly making him look like a jock gone to seed. The other one—

—was Asher.

If I’d thought he’d looked good in that T-shirt while at my apartment—well, shut my mouth. And open it again, because those dimples were in danger of making my jaw hit the floor.

He wore a midnight black suit, the jacket unbuttoned and the tight red silk of his shirt making his skin almost glow. He’d tugged off his tie in the heat, and was now absentmindedly wrapping it around and around his strong, graceful hands. His green eyes seemed to sparkle in the faint light of the torches and fireworks, and his hair fell in defiant curls around his face. A hint of stubble graced his cheeks, just enough to rasp against someone’s skin if he leaned down to claim their mouth with those full, pouty lips…

Oops, Grant was saying words. I should probably pay attention to Grant’s words and not Asher’s lips.

Though the lips were definitely more interesting.

He’s got a girlfriend, I reminded myself. He’s off limits, and also, he’s a jerk! You have instituted a strict no jerk policy! All jerks must be put in checked luggage; if you attempt to board this relationship with a jerk, Security will ask you to step from the line.

“—all in university together,” Grant was explaining to Lacey. “Brody and I played on the polo team together, and Asher was his roommate. Lacey, Kate—Brody and Asher. If I’d taken either of their advice back at college, I’d have made my fortune a lot sooner. Asher and Brody, Lacey and Kate. They keep me on the straight and narrow.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Brody said to us.

Asher took Lacey’s hand and kissed it. “Delighted.”

Lacey’s eyebrows climbed so high they could have formed their own airline.

Asher took my mine. “Del—”

“We’ve met,” I said shortly, pulling my hand away.

“Asher, did you forget your manners again?” Grant asked. “He likes to put on the whole Prince Charming act now, but when I first met him, he couldn’t speak two words to girls that weren’t ‘move, you’re blocking the Lord of the Rings trilogy.’”

“Grant, please,” Asher said, starting to look embarrassed.

“This one time,” Grant started, a wicked grin blooming on his face, “he didn’t know his crush from the debate team was in the lobby, and he was racing down the stairs, skinny arms flailing in the wind—you should have seen him before he got into body-building, a toothpick could have taken him in a boxing match—”

“Don’t go digging up my tragic past, man,” Asher said with a laugh, giving Grant a friendly punch in the shoulder. His face took on a mischievous cast, and his slightly awkward smile widened. “Unless you want me to bring up that incident with you, the sorority, the whipped cream, and the fire department.”

Grant shot a fake-panicked look at Lacey, who rolled her eyes. “Another tale of your misspent youth? I’ve probably heard worse.”

“I think I’ll play it safe,” Grant said, “and change the subject. Where’s your lovely date, Asher? Have you met her, Kate?”

I was about to say I had, when suddenly a blonde woman who was ten pounds too thin and six inches too short to be Dove Steele shot out of the crowd and wrapped herself around him, nestling her head onto his shoulder and letting out a contented little murmur. He had another girl already? Or in addition? This guy gave ‘player’ such a new name they were going to have to add another page to the entry in the encyclopedia.

“Oh, there you are, sweetums!” she simpered like a little lost kitten. “Ugh, this charity ball is such a drag! And oh my God, books, like, what are poor kids even going to do with books? Can they even, like, read? Aren’t they all on crack?”

Everyone froze for a second. You could see the thoughts slowly travel across their faces as they wondered if they had really heard what they thought they had just heard, and if so, whether they should laugh, yell, or cry.

Asher looked like he sincerely hoped the ground would open up beneath him and he would be kidnapped by Mole People before he had to figure out how to respond.

“Excuse me,” I said as straight-faced as I could. “I think I see something over there. Yes. A thing. That I should go—see. Bye!” And I fled behind the band’s stage where no one could see me.