Chapter 21
EVERLEE - TOMATO TOMATO
They close the office at lunchtime so we can all go home and get ready for this evening.
Usually, these big events are on the weekend, but our client wanted to make it a Valentine’s Day gala.
There were rumors around the office that Meyers is flying in a chef from France, apparently one of the most sought-after in the world.
Last night, I skimmed through several books and found the key smut sections very enlightening, so I have a good idea of what I need to do so I don’t embarrass myself.
And! And! I didn’t masturbate while reading.
Goodness knows I wanted to because dammmnnn, but I’m letting it all build up for tonight.
I’m pretty sure I’m going to be ruined sexually anyway, but I was proud of myself. Small victories.
Dinner starts at six, but we’re expected to show up at five for hors d’oeuvre and champagne.
My goal for this evening is to not mispronounce hors d’oeuvre, but ever since that Christmas movie where this wealthy couple had to go home and visit their less than wealthy family and were offered ‘whores do veray’ which ended up being spray cheese on crackers, I can’t say it any other way.
Callum texts, letting me know he’ll pick me up at four fifteen.
He wants to make sure we don’t get stuck in traffic and doesn’t want to be late.
I can appreciate that, but it means we’ll likely get there thirty minutes early.
And thirty minutes stuck in the car with a man-God is going to be trouble for me.
Tonight, I opted for light makeup with a hint of shimmer and a simple updo with hanging curls. I wanted to get the hair off my neck, but not make it overly complicated for the post-party shindig tonight.
Nerves coil tighter in my stomach with every passing second. One glance at my phone sends my heart racing.
Three minutes.
My phone buzzes.
Lizzy: Girl. You better be getting ready to send me a pic!
Everlee: Yep! You caught me.
Lizzy: You weren’t going to? After the countless hours I spent with you shopping?
Everlee: You mean the fifteen minutes?
Lizzy: Tomato Tomato.
Reading her text makes me laugh because I read it the same way and was confused for half a second until I read it again the way she would have said it.
Glancing at the clock again, I have one minute, so I place my phone on the table, set the timer, and give her a few model poses. I quickly check the photos, then send them to her and wait patiently-not-so-patiently for her texts.
Lizzy: Did you wax? Shave? You aren’t on your period, are you? Oh, that would be horrible.
Everlee: No. Yes. No. And the worst.
Lizzy: Get you some thundersword, girl.
Everlee: Thundersword?
Lizzy: Yes. Sexcaliber, Yankee Doodle.
Everlee: Where do you even come up with these names?
Lizzy: Fine. Cock. Boring. Go get you some cock.
Everlee: I plan on it.
Lizzy: Yeah, girl!
Everlee: I won’t have my phone, but I will text you tomorrow when I get home.
Lizzy: I’ll do a drive-by tonight of his place, pretend to be a pizza girl or something to check on you.
Everlee: No, you won’t. Plus, they’d recognize you.
Lizzy: Right. And they probably order some high-end, fancy schmancy pizza. Get it flown in from Italy or wherever.
There’s a knock on my door.
Everlee: He’s here. Gotta go. Love you, boo.
Lizzy: Love you too. Have fun and use lots and lots of protection and lube.
Everlee: Geez.
Lizzy: Bye, love.
I put my phone on the charger, then make my way to the door and check through the peephole.
Fuck me. He’s standing there looking… words have vacated my mind.
My stomach tightens and my pussy throbs, and that’s just off a quick glance.
I’m going to have an entire car ride with him and the rest of the night.
But more importantly, how am I going to walk away from this?
When I open the door, his eyes rake over me as his lips part. “You’re… Do we have to go to this dinner?”
His words make me blush. I’ve never made a man speechless before, but man do I feel his words. I know I look good in this dress, but his reaction is enough to drive me wild with desire.
Maybe I should have used the ol’ one-handed read last night, because I’m going to have to walk around most of the night with my legs clenched together, whimpering like a newborn puppy looking for its mom’s teat.
“You look very handsome as well. And yes. We have to.” Handsome is an understatement, but if I told him what I really thought, we’d never make it to the party, and we have to.
At least for a bit. He’s all six-foot something God in a white button-down, with a deep red vest that matches my dress perfectly, and a black jacket with black pants.
Very basic, but at the same time, not basic at all.
His hair is slicked back, his beard is shaved to the perfect five o’clock shadow, and his blue eyes are like fiery crystals.
“Let me send a pic to the boys. They were really upset they couldn’t come tonight, but,” he bobbles his head from side to side. “It would be kind of hard if you asked for a plus four.”
“That’s why you don’t date or have this arrangement long-term?”
His face falls. “It just gets complicated. We try to avoid that.”
“By sexually ruining girls for any other men. You’re effectively creating spinsters, you know?”
He laughs and holds out his hand. “Let’s go. We don’t want to be late.”
My hand fits in his perfectly. Of course it does. Everything about him—us—is perfect. He follows me down the stairs, cursing under his breath most of the way. “Are you trying to send me to an early grave, woman? Your back,” he huffs.
I look over my shoulder and wink.
He grabs my wrist and pins me against the wall and leans in, taking my lips in a passionate kiss. I moan into his mouth just before he pulls away. “I can’t wait until you’re moaning around my cock tonight, while Emmett and Knox fuck you at the same time.”
My cheeks turn the color of my dress, but then I lean in, brushing my lips against his ear.
“What about Jax?” Hearing myself causes me to cringe internally, but I try not to show Callum.
I’m horrible at dirty talk, and what’s sad is that wasn’t even dirty.
I was trying to be sexy, but I’m fairly certain it just came out as a question with my voice in an awkwardly low octave.
But his dirty talk… there’s something about it that’s so raw, so filthy, so perfect.
“Don’t you worry, Red, he’ll be there too.” He smirks, glancing at his watch. “What’s the minimum time we have to stay?”
I smile before continuing down the stairs.
Brady is waiting with his hand on the car handle, ready for us. When he sees me walk through the door, his eyes grow wide in surprise, only further making me feel like a queen. He helps me into the car and whispers, “You look amazing, Ms. Everlee.”
“Thank you, Brady.”
By the time Callum gets in the car, his phone is dinging repeatedly.
“Is everything okay?”
He pulls out his phone with a worried brow on his face, but it quickly changes to humor.“All good. Let’s just say the boys are both eagerly awaiting the end of this dinner and want to kill me.”
Trying my hand at being sexy again, I suck my bottom lip into my mouth. “Me too. The after-dinner piece… not wanting to kill you.”
Awkward.
I sigh at myself before running my hand up his leg and over his crotch.
Yep. Super awkward now.
Jesus, fuck Everlee! Get out of your head!
“You really are trouble.”
“Not the first time I heard that.” The last time was… you guessed it. High school chemistry class. Seeexxy.
We pull up to the convention center twenty minutes later. A red carpet is rolled out from the roundabout drop-off to the front door, making me feel like a movie star at a big premiere.
Most of the car ride was quiet, with Callum running his fingers along the inside of my palm while he looked absentmindedly out of the window.
I’d pay all the money in the world to know what’s going on inside his head.
Part of me hopes he’s trying to figure out how he can live the rest of his life without me in it.
That tonight and possibly some other night wouldn’t be the end of us. Of this.
This is wrong. I shouldn’t have asked him to come.
Why did he say yes? He said they don’t do dates.
Everyone’s going to think we’re a couple, and that he’s my boyfriend.
Did I really want to go through the entire night correcting them?
Did I want to even correct them? What would I say?
No, this hot ass man isn’t my boyfriend.
We’re just friends with benefits for the rest of the week?
We step out of the car and his hand slips around my back, causing a tingle to shoot up my spine. “What’s wrong, Everlee?”
Shit. Even the way my name rolls off his tongue. “Nothing,” I lie.
He grabs my hand and pulls me off to the side, away from the red carpet. “Red.”
“It’s nothing, really. I don’t want to talk about it.”
The back of his hand brushes along my cheek. “I’ll let it go for now.”
I try to smile, but know I don’t succeed.
I’m going to ruin this night before it even starts.
Get your shit together, Everlee. That’s what Lizzy would say.
She’d be jumping up and down in front of me, hyping me up.
She’d tell me to get that donkey dick or some other crazy name she’d blurt out and tell me to just have fun.
Filled with courage and the hype from invisible Lizzy, I grab his hand and pull him back onto the red carpet and continue our walk.
There are only a few couples in front of us, so we don’t have to wait outside for long.
A few of the dresses are from La Belle, which makes me love mine even more.
Theirs looks nice on them, but I truly love this one.
We get up to the huge heart-shaped balloon arch at the front and have to take a picture. I was going to decline, but Callum pulls me over, insisting.
When we walk in, we stand for a second at the doorway, admiring all the exquisite decorations. They really went all out for this.
“What did you say this was for again?”
I laugh. “I guess I didn’t say. This is one of our largest customers. They are hosting this gala to raise funds for one of their charities, so our company bought several tables as a show of support. They did it on Valentine’s Day because it’s a special day for the charity owner.”
“Is that it over there?” Callum asks, pointing to a table tucked off to the side under a large balloon archway.
“Yes.”
“Can we go over?”
“Of course,” I say, leading him over, hand still in mine.
“Good evening. Don’t you make a handsome couple.” The older lady behind the table beams. She’s wearing a draping black sequin dress with a pearl necklace and matching earrings.
“Thank you,” Callum chimes, reaching his arm around me. “I think so, too.”
“Thank you so much for coming tonight and supporting us. It really means the world to us and these children.”
Callum smiles. “Can we still make donations?”
“Yes, of course.” The lady perks up.
Callum reaches into his pocket and pulls out his checkbook. I start to make fun of him in my mind for carrying a checkbook, then nearly choke on the air I’m breathing when I see how much he’s donating.
Ten thousand dollars.
Holy shit. Who is he?
He hands the check to the woman, who also nearly chokes. She blinks quickly, looking from the check up to Callum, then back at the check as a tear forms in the corner of her eye. “Thank you so much, Mr. McCall.”
McCall. Him and Jax are brothers? That makes sense, and I can see it. Tall, dark, and handsome. Alpha, beta. I’d have to guess Jax is a little younger, but not much.
“Can I give you a hug?” the woman asks, already walking around the table.
“Of course.” He drops his arm from around my back and opens his arms. The woman walks right in and looks so tiny compared to him.
She pats his chest. “I don’t want to get makeup on your suit.” She grabs his hands, then looks at me. “If I were younger, I’d give you a run for your money.”
“Any man would be lucky to have a good-looking woman like you,” Callum coos.
The woman blushes, then walks behind the table and scribbles something down. “Here’s a receipt for your records. What name would you like to be added to the scroll of donations at the end of the event?”
“Anonymous is fine.”
She reaches forward and grabs my hand. “You’re a lucky woman.”
“Don’t I know it.” I grab Callum’s hand, and we head to the bar.
“Do you want an old-fashioned?” he asks, bringing my hand to his lips and placing a gentle kiss on my knuckles.
“Will it be as good as Emmett’s?”
“I doubt it. He’s truly perfected it.”
“I’ll try it and switch if needed.”
While Callum orders our drinks, I look around at the people filtering into the building and still don’t recognize anyone.
He hands me the drink, then places his hand on my lower back, his pinky dipping just below the edge of my dress, grazing the top of my ass. He leans over and whispers, “I can’t wait until my cock is buried—”
“Everlee?”
We turn around, and Mr. Randall is walking over with Annalise, my assistant, a step behind him. She sees Callum and her eyes grow wide as she leans back, clutching her chest, mouthing damn. I chuckle briefly, then turn my attention to Mr. Randall. “Hello, sir.”
Callum’s fingers dig gently into my back. Is he jealous? Obviously, he knows it’s a different kind of sir.
“So glad you could make it and bring a date.” He motions towards Callum. “I really thought you were going to call out sick.” He chuckles.
I chuckle.
We all chuckle. But if he only knew the truth. That’s why I’m chuckling.
“Callum, this is Mr. Randall, CEO of McClintock Enterprises.”
“Very nice to meet you. I’m glad I made the invite list,” he says, removing his hand from my back to shake Mr. Randall’s. The cool air hits my skin where his hand had been, and I miss our connection. Seconds later, it’s back, and I breathe a sigh of… not relief, but of comfort?
“We’ll see you in a little. Going to walk around and find more people, then head towards our table. The chef is going to walk around soon to introduce herself before everything starts. She’s going to do a cooking demonstration on the stage of what we’re eating tonight.”
“That sounds exciting.”
Callum nods, but doesn’t speak.
Mr. Randall and Annalise walk away, then Callum looks at me. “Who’s the chef tonight?”
I shrug. “Someone from France. I’m not sure. I wasn’t paying attention to anything related to this, because truth be told…” I lean in close. “I was planning on calling out sick, but you sort of put a wrench in those plans.”
“Glad I could oblige,” he smirks.