Chapter 10
MACK
Okay, this is the weirdest assignment ever.
I've done all kinds of jobs in all kinds of situations. This is both the least dangerous and, thanks to Layne, the most pleasant I've ever experienced.
The wedding is beautiful, and everything goes smoothly. Layne and I don't see anyone acting suspiciously. There's a quick cocktail hour after the ceremony, while the bridal party gets the group photos done. Then dinner, dessert, and the speeches.
We're sitting very close to the gift table, so between the two of us, someone is always watching. Astor and Ryland know what's going on and have been watching as well.
As we sip our non-alcoholic wine, I placed my palm on Layne's knee. "It's been hours, and I haven't been able to test if today’s lipstick is kiss-proof. It's driving me crazy, baby."
She flutters her eyelashes at me. Damn, this deep purple dress is even more stunning than the last. It’s another floral print, but subtler.
The way it catches the eye when the light hits the fabric at the right angle, it looks a bit magical.
Just like Layne. She's been bubbly and chatty with everyone, making friends in most of the larger groups around us.
"Behave yourself," she whispers.
"What if I don't want to?"
"I thought you were a professional?"
"I'm drunk." My eyebrows lift suggestively. "I can't be held responsible for my behavior."
She smacks my shoulder lightly, laughing. I grab her hand when a cheesy old disco hit comes on. "People are going to look at us funny if we don't have one dance."
We find a spot almost right in front of the gift table, piled high with white and silver boxes tied up in ribbons and bows. There’s also a large silver wicker basket for the gift envelopes. It's so full that a few have fallen out, and someone has stacked them in a tidy pile.
I spin Layne around as she giggles, swaying to the music. Then I wrap my arms around her as if it were a slow dance.
"You're so hot," I murmur into her ear. "Are you going to sleep beside me naked tonight? So we don't get overly warm?"
She laughs. "Pretty sure our room has air conditioning."
I stick out my bottom lip. "I'm trying to be fun."
She smiles up at me, shaking her head. "I can't believe how different you are compared to what I expected."
My expression turns pained. "I'm still sorry about that. I'll apologize a lot over the next few weeks, okay?"
"Okay."
She grabs my back. This time she isn't being frisky. "Look!" she hisses. "The envelope basket!"
My head whips around to see that a third of the basket, plus the extra pile of envelopes, is gone.
"We were right here," I whisper as my head snaps back to her. "How did—"
There is no one around the gift table except Astor and Ryland, and we would've noticed if they'd gotten up from their seats, since they're on the far side of the table.
I rush over to Ryland. "You're facing the gift table. Who was there a minute ago?"
He looks around vaguely. "Uhh…nobody. You were dancing right in front of it, so I sort of…you know. Stopped paying attention for a minute."
I turn to Astor. "Did you see anyone at all near the table? Even for a split second?"
I hate how worried she looks. "No. I'm sorry."
"It's fine."
Layne comes over from where she was casually looking around the table, in case the envelopes somehow fell on the floor.
She shakes her head, then stands close beside me.
At a time like this, I shouldn't be noticing that she seems so comfortable with me.
My arm wraps around her as we sway slightly to the next song.
"Hey," I murmur softly, looking down. Layne's expression is miserable. "We didn't do anything wrong," I tell her. "Once in a blue moon, things go sideways. We’ll figure it out."
She grips my arm. "If we lose that business because I looked away during one song…" She shakes her head. "I'm going to be extremely angry with myself."
"Don't you dare, baby." I tip her chin up with a finger. "I'm the professional, and you are my beautiful trophy wife. You're supposed to be having fun this weekend." I lean in to give her a soft kiss. "Don't worry."
I hear Astor laughing behind us. "Aunt Layne and Uncle Mack are getting frisky."
I shoot her a glare, which makes her laugh even louder. Layne isn’t laughing, though. Her eyes are darting around the room, fingers twitching against her dress. Her shoulders are locked tight, and those luscious lips are pressed into a straight line.
It’s like a bucket of ice water being thrown over me.
I’ve fucked up.
I was so intent on making Layne relax that I relaxed too much. The agency will survive without this new client, but this is Layne’s first time at an assignment. She’s going to take it personally if we fail. She might consider this entire weekend a failure.
I refuse to let anything tarnish this stellar weekend. When we left, the goal was to complete the assignment well enough to get the Gillis family’s business. Now, that’s the secondary goal.
I need to make Layne fall as deeply in love with me as I already am with her.