Wrong For You (Before You Series Book 3)(70)
Alec groaned. He’d hoped Taylor would ignore that. “It’s a long story.”
Taylor sat in the chair next to him. “Well, start talking. You have thirty minutes until Jax comes in to get you.”
“I met someone in Montana. She runs the Foundation.”
Taylor’s eyes lit up and he shifted in his chair. “So that’s what this fundraising thing is about.”
“Yes and no.” He groaned. ”She doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
“Change her mind.”
“That would be easier if she’d answer my phone calls or one of my texts.” Alec slid her his phone. “Look, I’ve been trying to contact her for a week.”
Taylor scanned his phone. “Then go see her.”
“I can’t, or at least not until we’re done recording.”
“Then, she’ll have to come see you.”
“Great idea, sis,” he mocked. “But I don’t think that’s happening anytime in the near future.”
“Don’t worry, big brother. I’ll get her here, but you’re in charge of changing her mind.” Taylor stood up. “Ready?”
Alec drank the rest of his coffee before pushing his chair back. “Yep. I don’t want to keep Jax and Cam and those sissy ballads waiting.”
“You love them,” she said, slapping him on the back.
“No. I really don’t,” he answered, his lips twitching, because even in his depressed anti-everything state; he knew they were good…really good.
“Cam wrote one of them for me, so you better like it.”
Alec smirked. “You mean the cheesy one about redemption?”
Taylor planted her hands on her hips. “Alec, you better take that back.”
“Or what?”
“I won’t help you.”
His eyes narrowed. “You play dirty.”
She shrugged. “I learned from the best.”
“Who me?”
“No, Cam.”
Alec laughed. “Oh please, give me a break.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“You better not leave me,” Violet said, clutching Annette’s hand in the lobby of a hotel smack-dab in the center of Beverly Hills.
“You’re going to be fine,” Annette said absently, her eyes trained on the steady stream of people walking toward the ballroom.
“No, I’m not. Have you looked, I mean really looked, at the people going to this event?” Violet whispered as she inspected her silver cocktail dress with an off the shoulder neckline and a scalloped hem for the hundredth time. She may look the part, but at the end of the day she was just a small town girl who worked for a charity and lived paycheck to paycheck. “I don’t belong here.”
Annette’s eyes flickered over her dress. “With how much you spent on that dress yesterday, nobody would ever guess that you don’t attend these things all the time. You look absolutely beautiful.”
Her hands shaking imperceptibly from her frazzled nerves, Violet smoothed the front of her dress as she bit her lip. “Do you think I spent too much?” She looked down at her strappy sling back, crystal covered heels. They were way out of her budget, but she felt like a princess the minute she slid them on her feet and she couldn’t say no. Where did the practical Violet go?
Annette rolled her eyes. “No. You look perfect. Stop overthinking everything.”
“I can’t.” As they stepped into the ballroom, Violet froze while she scanned the crowd. She didn’t recognize anyone. Not that she was surprised. She didn’t recognize Alec either when she first encountered him in the Foundation’s parking lot. When it came to celebrities, she was hopelessly unschooled. She hadn’t been to a movie in nearly two years and she couldn’t remember the last time she took the time to investigate a band or singer. Annette, on the other hand, regularly devoured gossip magazines and websites.
The ballroom was almost as intimidating as the people inhabiting it. The way they held themselves combined with the look on Annette’s face screamed that they were people she should recognize, but that wasn’t what drew her attention at the moment.
Her mouth nearly fell open at the grandness of the party. The last time the Foundation held a fundraiser, it was in a windowless conference room at the University and the decorations consisted of donated colorful tablecloths, balloons, and sunflowers from her parents’ garden.
That wasn’t the case tonight. The otherwise generic hotel ballroom had been transformed into a glittering fairytale with white linens, white flowers, and white candles that created a warm, intimate glow in an otherwise overwhelming room. Soft white chiffon draped the walls and ceilings, hiding twinkling fairy lights in their folds. Waiters in formal white tuxedos carried circular, white lacquer trays with champagne flutes and appetizers that looked like works of art rather than food. At the far end of the ballroom, the same white chiffon draped the walls behind an elevated stage.