I should have known coming here was a bad idea.
“I suppose one glass won’t hurt,” I mutter as I take it.
Honey hums a little laugh as she arches one eyebrow. “A dangerous assumption.”
Something about that triggers a fierce and hot sensation in me, enough to make me think it is indeed a dangerous assumption.
“You arrived just in time for my first show of the evening,” she says with a wicked smile. It’s enough to have my blood surging again.
Damn, what this woman could do to a man.
A man who didn’t have his eye firmly on the prize.
“But first, I have to introduce you.”
Before I can protest, she dances past me and heads to the sound system to lower the music now that the song has come to an end.
“Attention, Attention!” she sings out, raising her hand rippling her fingers in the air. “I’d like to introduce y’all to a dear friend of mine, who just happens to live right across the hall from yours truly.”
I feel my brow furrow at how suggestive that sounds.
“This is Jesse Castiglione,” she says, waving her hand my way like a damn spokesmodel presenting a new car. “You have him to thank for the champagne you’re drinking. Without this one swooping in to save the day, lil ole me would have had to carry the entire case up all by myself.”
“Well, that one definitely deserves a cheers,” announces a man in a perfectly white suit with a pink dress shirt underneath. The combination is a bit too precious for my tastes. The way Honey gives him an adoring smile, makes me hate it even more.
The colorful crowd erupts with cheers.
It makes me long for the privacy and silence of my own apartment. I take a large swallow from my glass, all the better to finish it and leave.
“And since he’s here, I might as well get the show going myself, no?” She bats her eyelashes my way, as she grabs a pair of long, silk gloves to put on. “Strictly appropriate for mixed company of course.”
That gets a laugh out of everyone for some reason.
I’m too busy taking another long sip to try and decrypt any of this.
Honey searches out a song and hits play.
It takes me a moment to place it, only because I had to rewind the musical knowledge in my head a few decades.
“You Can’t Hurry Love,” by the Supremes.
Honey’s back is turned and the way she bounces in place has the champagne flowing a little more leisurely down my throat. The dress certainly does a nice job of highlighting her curves.
The attention is now firmly away from me, and for good reason.
Honey turns around and begins lip-syncing to Diana Ross. Everything from her facial expression to the way she moves her body is enjoyable. When she circulates through the crowd rapt with attention it somehow becomes more provocative.
A fingertip tracing a jawline.
A hip bumped against someone else’s.
An arm thrown around a neck as she leans in to tap her nose against…that man in the white suit.
Then the gloves come off.
Literally.
One lands around the shoulder of the pretty woman in the blue gown.
The other finds its way around my neck as Honey pulls me in close to sing the last words of the song.
While The Supremes warn the audience that love don’t come easy, Honey draws nearer and nearer until we’re only a few inches away from each other.
In that final moment, everything else is forgotten. The champagne in my hand. The absurdity of the crowd I’m surrounded by. Even the tune of the song.
It gets lost in those eyes. The scent of flowers. That dark pink lipstick. The lips it’s painted on suddenly no longer lip-syncing, but still parted just slightly…
The music stops.
The crowd claps and cheers in approval.
Honey blinks.
I clear my throat and pull away, the long satin glove slithering from around my collar.
She spins around, leaving nothing but the smell of flowers and a blur of pink as she bows for the crowd and quickly walks back to join them.
The next song has no show accompanying it, and I use the moment to try and finish my champagne.
Before I can, I’m accosted by the redheaded woman who fascinated me earlier.
“I’m Rose.” She tilts her head to scrutinize me. “I wonder why Honey has never mentioned you before.”
“We aren’t exactly close.”
“And yet here you are,” she muses, taking a casual sip of her champagne. She swallows and her eyes take a leisurely stroll up and down the length of me. “Though I have to say, I could think of worse distractions for our girl.”
Distractions? “I actually came over to ask her to turn the music down.”
“Oh, but the party is just getting started,” she scolds.
“I have to work in the morning.”
Rose laughs. “You’re obviously not in show business then.”
I don’t bother honoring that absurd suggestion with a response.
“If you’re going to strike, now would be the perfect time, while the poor dear’s heart is wounded. I for one approve, and I don’t even know you yet.”
I give Rose a bewildered look. “Honey and I—we…we aren’t…”
She laughs, as though my shock at her suggestion is a minor obstacle to overcome.
My gaze shifts to the woman of the hour as she leans in close to laughingly whisper something to that man in the white suit. The way he carries himself tells me that I probably have nothing to be jealous of…I think?
That’s if I even had a reason to be jealous.
Which I don’t.
I feel an ache come to my forehead as a deep crease of frustration etches itself into it, and I shake that feeling away. I turn back to address Rose. I’m struck silent by the knowing look on her face.
“She is quite the darling isn’t she? That’s why she’s so good at what she does.”
That has my brow smoothing out in curiosity. “What exactly is it that she
