Fine.
I stuck my chin out, dropped my hand from his arm, and started for the door. And then I realized no one was following. So I turned, looked at them, and said, “Well? What are we waiting for? Let’s get this over with.”
~$~
The ride in the limo was quiet. Polly and Mason had driven themselves to the ball, in case either we or they wanted to leave early. Noah sat on one side of the limo, smoking a cigarette while he stared out the window. Translation: he was torturing me with the whole “watch me make love to this cigarette while I ignore you” vibe he had going on.
And then the real torture began.
People. Lots and lots of people. And cameras. Flashbulbs were going off everywhere as we walked down the red carpet to whatever fancy venue was hosting Chicago’s elite. People were yelling and shoving, vying for position to get a better shot. And the center of attention? Noah Crawford—and his date. I kept my face hidden behind his wide shoulders or just turned away in general. Noah kept his arm around my waist as he smiled and posed, waved and greeted the hordes of people while still managing to completely ignore the probing question, “Who’s the beautiful woman on your arm tonight, Noah?” until finally we were out of the chaos and inside, where the party was in full swing.
I was relieved, but then Polly took her place by my side and said, “You ready to go inside?”
“I thought we were inside,” I asked, looking around.
“Silly girl. This,” she said as she opened a set of double doors, “is the Scarlet Lotus Ball.”
Wow. The place was huge, not that I was surprised. Everything Noah did was huge. There were red lotus flowers all over: floating in glass bowls filled with water and candles, in bouquets, everywhere. Silky red banners were draped from the ceiling, complementing red tablecloths and red bows; it looked like a beautiful massacre had taken place in the room. Champagne ran in fountains. No, seriously, there were champagne fountains, in addition to two dozen or so servers strategically roaming the open room with trays of flutes filled with liquid gold. Which probably explained why the people were so lively. Too damn lively.
The attendees were gorgeous, all of them dressed in elegant gowns and tuxedos worth more than the monthly household income of most of the residents in my hometown. It even smelled like money in there. The social hierarchy had a way of reminding people of their place when it came right down to it. Noah had never made me feel less than adequate, but then again, he and I had never really been out in plain sight like this before. Until tonight it had only been the two of us going at it like bunnies in the privacy of his gargantuan abode. Now, in the midst of his real-life friends, I saw the score clearly. If I hadn’t felt completely out of Noah’s league before, I most certainly did now.
“Welcome to my world,” Noah whispered into my ear before taking my elbow and leading me through the crowd. “There are some people I want you to meet.”
Jesus. I was going to screw up big-time. I just knew it.
“Noah! I was waiting for you,” this little bouncing brunette screeched as she sidled up to him. She looked like she’d already had one too many drinky-poos, if you asked me. “Oh, you brought a date? I didn’t realize you were seeing anyone.”
“Mandy, just because we’re outside the office, it doesn’t mean I cease to be Mr. Crawford,” Noah told her in a firm voice. Just then, a waiter came by with a tray of champagne. He grabbed one flute and handed it to me, then took another for himself.
“Oh, right. Sorry,” Mandy said, chastened. And then the sizing up began. Judging by the way she scrunched up her nose and faked a smile, I’d say she’d seen through the illusion that I belonged on Noah’s arm. “Who’s she?”
“She is none of your business. Now, run along and find another drink, Miss Peters.” He dismissed her with a wave of his hand.
She gave me one last nasty look, and I leaned into Noah with an adoring smile on my face to spite her.
“Oh! There’s Lexi and Brad!” Polly squeaked, pointing toward a stunning couple a mere few feet away. I managed to snag another glass of champagne before she grabbed my wrist and practically yanked my arm out of the socket to make our way over to the world’s most beautiful couple. Noah got stopped by some suits, but Polly, determined little shit that she was, kept chugging along.
“Lexi!” Polly squealed, finally dropping my arm to run up to the leggy redhead and hug her. This chick had to have been the woman they modeled Jessica Rabbit after. She was built like a brick shithouse: flawless skin, huge tits, tiny waist, pouty red lips. I almost expected to hear the Commodores interrupt the uppity snore music that was currently playing.
“Oh, Brad!” the gargantuan guy next to her trilled in a girly voice, mocking Polly as he batted his lashes and waved his wrists in the air. “I’ve missed you so, and you’re my favorite person. Ooh! Let me feel you up, too!”
Polly broke the embrace with the brick shithouse and stared him down while said brick shithouse smacked him in the back of his head. “Don’t be an ass, ass. We have company,” she said, nodding toward me with a curious look.
“Oh, yeah. This is—”
Noah cut her off, suddenly appearing as if out of nowhere. “Delaine. My Delaine.” He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me into him possessively. “Delaine, this is my favorite cousin, Alexis, and her husband, Brad Mavis.”
“You can just call me the Gentle Giant,” Brad said.
“He’s a starting defensive tackle in the NFL,” Noah clarified.
“Damn straight,” Brad boasted, puffing out his chest.
“Lexi is his fearsome agent,” Noah continued with a nod in her direction. “I think she scares him more than any of those blood-sucking contract negotiators.”
“Someone’s gotta keep him in line. Besides, he likes the rough stuff.” Lexi smirked.
“Nice to meet you,” I said as I offered my hand toward Lexi in greeting. “Noah has told me absolutely nothing about you.” I laughed awkwardly.
“Likewise,” Lexi said, shaking my hand. One might think the whole “likewise” bit was in regard to the pleasantries, but I had a feeling she meant that as an answer on both accounts—Noah hadn’t said anything about me either, which made sense, just not to them.
“So, Patrick, have you seen Mom and Dad?” she asked Noah.
I looked at Noah with my brows raised in question.