I’d either fold myself onto his lap or he’d stand and pick me up, taking me back to bed. My questions were hushed by his mouth, and I was exhausted every morning, when I would wake later—much later. We were averaging three hours of sleep per night because of that, and because of my own nerves about myself, knowing that Matt’s uppity friends would be coming to the party, Seraphina’s bully friends, too, and some of Cyclone’s. Quinn just seemed to get frostier and frostier toward me, and my mother hadn’t been much better. I was ready to explode.

  Or have a nervous breakdown.

  I was secretly hoping for the latter, because that might mean hospital time and—score!—an expensive-as-hell vacation. That’s what those stays were for, right?

  Even my humor was slipping. That was lame.

  “Are you prepped for the itinerary of the party?”

  It was Martha.

  I turned, coffee in hand, and wrinkled my nose. She was literally breathing stark professionalism. A headset over her head, a thin mic resting just past her cheek, and a full clipboard in hand, with lists. So many lists. Her phone was in her other hand, and she was dressed to the nines, like always. High heels. A flowing tulle skirt. A sequin top. Her hair wrapped up and twisted all around with flowers and baby’s breath intertwined to make her look like she was an earth goddess.

  “You are way too awake for me right now.” I looked away. It was seven in the morning. If she was like this, when had she gotten up? Maybe she didn’t sleep. Or breathe. Maybe she wasn’t even human? That was more like it.

  She and Kash were both members of the same species.

  Lame. Again. I was being so lame.

  Rubbing a hand over my jaw, I bit back a yawn and went for the coffee again. I’d need this in an IV, at this rate.

  She stepped next to me, looking at where I was looking, over the yard, where all the chairs and tables were being set up. Theresa manned the kitchen, but today they had brought in extra catering, given how big the crowd was going to be. Security guys had been walking the premises for the last few days, and as we stood there, looking out, three walked past, doing their sweeps.

  “This must be overwhelming.”

  I glanced sideways at her. She sounded different. More understanding? I didn’t trust it.

  I sipped my coffee again.

  She added, “You were plucked from one world and put in this one, and it wasn’t by choice. You were forced here. That has to be…” She was studying me now. “I’ve never really thought to consider from your point of view. Are you handling everything okay?”

  My coffee was really interesting—like, super interesting. I could taste the texture of it. The way the mug was warming it. I mean—crap. There’s the emotional lump forming again. Why’d she have to go there, look at me like a person?

  I sniffed, draining the rest of my coffee, and jerked up a shoulder.

  More understanding, more than I was comfortable feeling, had her softening her tone even more. She touched my shoulder, patting there. “Everything will be fine today. Your father wants everyone to take note: you are a Francis now. They will treat you as a Francis after this, and Kash has been working tirelessly with the security. No one is getting in unless they were invited personally. Even the extra catering staff were all checked out. The computer program you wrote helped with all of that, too.”

  Finally. A topic I could talk about. “Yeah. Well. It’s in its early stages. It’s just a beta one right now.”

  “It was helpful. You are a very impressive young woman.”

  Damn it. The lump. It tripled.

  “And you are very loved.”

  God. No tears. Hayes women didn’t cry. I wasn’t starting now, and I was ignoring the last time a few tears slipped out. They’d been manipulated out of me. I was going with that lie. I cleared my throat, pushing that boulder back down. “The itinerary?”

  “Oh, yes.” We were back to business. She pulled her clipboard up. “Food for breakfast will be put out in an hour, for family and close loved ones who have already arrived. It’s a buffet-style meal, so go when you’d like, but everything will be taken down by ten. Eleven thirty is when the brunch will be put out and it will be refilled throughout the day. That’s when the next wave of guests are due to arrive. Business colleagues. Extended family members. Matthew’s friends. Seraphina’s. That group. Brunch will be dismantled around two. The drinks will be maintained all day, but we have extra bartending staff coming in around five, and then dinner will be served at six thirty. This will be when everyone will be in attendance. Your father wanted to officially make a statement about you. A slideshow will be played.”

  A slideshow?

  “And then, after that, it’ll be dancing, drinks, and hors d’oeuvres for the rest of the night. You are to be seen, mingling and smiling. Your father will take you among the groups after the announcement to personally meet some of the guests.” She tucked her clipboard under her arm, focusing on her phone. “You cannot skip any of the events. This one day. One day that you have to be ‘on.’ Everyone invited is important, either locally, nationally, or globally. We have CEOs of billion-dollar companies, celebrities who make million-dollar donations, top government officials. In some ways, this is the first day of your new life. You will officially be in the public eye now. People are going to expect you to change your last name to Francis. They’ll expect you to wear the latest fashion trends. They’ll expect greatness from you—”

  “Get out.”

  I’d been tensing the more she talked. Every word, the less air I had in my chest. My lungs were fully depleted. Hearing Kash’s growl gave me a reprieve. I bent over, gasping for oxygen.

  Martha gave me a distracted frown before focusing on Kash. “What?”

  “Get the fuck out of my villa.”

  She turned to square off against him, lifting her chin. “Kash.”

  Even her tone sounded condescending.

  She was in trou-uh-ble.

  “Get out.” He growled again. “Now.”

  She just shook her head. “There will be expectations of her now. No one’s informed her. She has to know before she goes out there—”

  “She’s not going out there alone. She’ll be with me. Her father is making the announcement. That’s it. She can be there if she wants, she can be gone if she wants. She doesn’t have to do a damn thing, and you’re going to back the fuck off if you think you’re going to start ordering her around.”

  Now she got it.

  Now her eyes widened.

  Now she stepped back.

  Now she was wary.

  Now was too late. Kash was almost in her face. He was restraining himself, but still closing in.

  I whispered, “If I were you, I’d make a run for it.”

  She gave me an incredulous look, those eyebrows shooting up, but heeded my warning. She was gone within a second.

  “You okay?” He drew me to him, folding me into his arms, one hand coming to cup the side of my face.

  It felt better, feeling him, and I tipped my head up to smile at him. “I am now.”

  His eyes darkened. “You are always.”

  “Always.”

  We shared a grin before he groaned, stiffened, and dipped his head into the crook of my shoulder and neck. “She’s not totally wrong. We have to make appearances tonight.”

  I smoothed a hand down his back. “If you stick with me, we’ll be fine.”

  And the funny thing was that I believed that. I really did. Everything would be fine. I wouldn’t enjoy the night. I never did, with big parties, but I understood why my father was doing this. It was time. And with that reassurance in my head, I trusted that all would be fine as long as Kash was next to me.

  I was wrong.

  FIFTY-TWO

  I broke the “Be with Kash at all times” rule within the first hour.

  He got called away for a security briefing, and my stomach growled. And me being the super smart one, I went for brunch. But—score again!—I snuck in. Grabbed a fancy-looking doughnut, a coffee, an apple for the nutrition gods, and got back to the villa with nothing happening.

  I could hear the energy outside, the conversations, laughter.

  It got louder and louder as the day went on.

  Chrissy texted to check in. I was fine, and that appeased her. She was getting fitted for a dress for the whole day. Matt checked in too. He was at the main house, his friends had just arrived, and he wanted to know if I wanted to come join. I declined, stating I was getting ready in Kash’s villa.

  To an extent, I was. Sorta.

  I’d had all my fittings the week prior, and one of Martha’s team members brought over a few different options for me to wear for the day. Actually, they brought more than a few options. I had a whole rack. Three different outfits to choose from for breakfast. Three more for brunch, and four different dresses for the evening.

  Hair was scheduled in the morning, in Quinn’s bedroom, but they should have known I wouldn’t go there. I could do my own hair. How bad could it be? Pin it up. Put in a fancy brooch, and voilà. Fashion-magazine ready.

  Wrong. So wrong.

  I was panicking by around two o’clock. Kash was still doing his thing, whatever that was, and my hair was flat as a pancake. I needed help, stat.

  My options were limited. My mother, but I didn’t want to endure any griping she might do about the party in general. Matt, who … was probably wasted and balls deep in some girl. Let’s be honest here. So I called Torie.

  “What’s up, superstar?”

  Music sounded from where she was. I frowned. “Are you working?”

  She laughed. “Hardly. But kind of. Your man wanted me at your shindig in case you needed any help.”

  She was a gift.

  “Know anything about hair?”

  She laughed. “I don’t, but my roommate’s a hair stylist. Want me to sneak her in?”

  I hesitated, but decided. “Yes. Give me her name first, though.”

  Tamara Harris.

  She was roommates with Torie—

  “What’s your last name?”

  Torie chuckled. “Hanson.”

  Right.

  After I did a quick search for her on my own, sending Kash the details of what was happening, she was flagged through, and an hour later I was looking back and forth between the two. Tamara had platinum blond hair that framed her face so it looked like a heart. She had plump lips, heavy red lipstick, smoky eye shadow, and thick eyeliner. She was wearing a plaid cropped skirt and a white button-down shirt, tied at the waist. Black hooker boots that ended at her calves.

  Next to her, with her brown hair slicked down, looking like it was wet, but that was how it was styled, was Torie. She was wearing a black leather skirt. The same white button-down shirt, but it wasn’t tied at the waist. It was left out, the ends hanging over her skirt. And she had cream white heels with diamonds on the straps.

  They were fashionably edgy.

  They were aliens.

  I felt two feet tall in front of them and had only the latte Torie had brought from the house as my shield. I gripped it tight.

  Torie’s mouth dipped up. “You’re freaking, aren’t you?”

  Tamara nodded with her, eyes never leaving me. “Freaking. Totally freaking.”

  Oh. Gah. I was.

  My lip quivered. “I am not.”

  They both snorted. “You are a shit liar right now.”

  Tamara added her two cents, still nodding. “Bad liar when freaking.”

  “Totally.” Torie grunted.

  Neither ever looked at the other. They remained fixed on me.

  That was freaky.

  I gulped, and Torie saw the motion, her eyes narrowing. “Right. Okay.” She was taking charge.

  Thank God.

  “Show us the goods. Tamara will do your hair, and I’ll do your nails.”

  My nails? I held them up.

  As if reading my mind, she laughed. “No way you’re heading out there to that group without a proper mani and pedi. Get in the shower. We’ll pick your outfit.”

  I was out of my league. I recognized it now. And after showering, I gave up any control I might have been trying to cling to.

  Torie and Tamara could have their own reality or beauty show. They both moved around the other like they’d been working together for years. One-word statements were apparently questions for the other, and somehow the word Now meant for Torie to switch up an entire outfit for me. Both looked, nodded, and approved, and they bent over to keep working.

  That was just one example.

  They were cool, and if I could be friends with them, I might have reached friendship paradise.

  I was just getting done when Chrissy popped in. Her eyebrows shot through her forehead, and her mouth fell open. I rarely saw my mother speechless, but I was doing the same, looking at her.

  “Mom.” I was choked up. “You look amazing.”

  She wore a gold, glittering dress, her hair curled around her face. More glitter was in her hair, matching her diamond earrings and necklace.

  “Where’d you get the jewelry?” I asked.

  She was busy taking me in, but her hand went to her necklace. “Oh.” A small line formed in her forehead. “This was an old gift. I just haven’t worn it in forever.”

  A gift? “From who?”

  She shook her head, coming forward. “You look beautiful, Bailey.” She was awed, still looking at me from top to toe.

  I was beginning to get uncomfortable—I mean, more than I already had been. I was at a good solid eight, and her compliment, mixed with the surprise, was putting me at a good cemented ten. A bit more and I was going to blow a gasket.

  Nervous breakdown. Hospital room. I could only wish.

  She began blinking rapidly, her hand wiping at the corner of an eye. “Oh, honey. You look just … just so beautiful.” Her throat was moving up and down, and she sniffled.

  We were moving into the red zone of expressing feelings.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  Torie and Tamara had been watching our exchange. I introduced them.

  Chrissy nodded, giving both a smile. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m glad that Bailey had friends to call on for help with this stuff. We don’t…” She was blushing. Slightly. “We don’t do this that often in our other life.”

  “Mom!” That came out louder than necessary.

  “Have you eaten?”

  Relief. “No.”

  She was nodding, smiling. “I’ll get you something. Just something small?” She headed for the door. “Maybe something to drink as well?”

  I was pretty sure the drink was for her.

  I smoothed a hand down my dress. We were nearing five o’clock now, but I hadn’t looked at myself in the mirror. I was scared. What if I didn’t recognize her? What if this was the new person I was supposed to be from now on? What if—what if I didn’t measure up?

  A new person came to the doorway, and I had no words.

  All my thoughts about myself vanished. They upped and flew out of my head like a bird fluttering away.

  I had no thoughts now.

  I had no jokes even.

  “Kash.” I could only murmur, moving toward him. “You look…”

  A tuxedo that his shoulders filled out, cut in over his slim waist and hips, and I knew what was underneath that tux. My mouth was watering.

  Kash was stunning on a daily basis, but him in a tuxedo? He was a goddamn weapon.

  His eyes were locked on me, and the air sizzled. No joke. I felt steam in the air.

  Might’ve been from my coffee.

  He looked me up and down, and as his eyes darkened, I knew he liked what he was seeing, too. That had my blood on a good simmer, fast heading toward a boil, but I tried to settle down. I wouldn’t be able to get through this night if I just wanted to jump him every time he looked at me.

  Snap out of it, Hayes!

  Why my inner voice sounded like my seventh-grade gym teacher was something I’d never figure out, but I smiled. “You look hot.”

  Someone snorted, but not me, and not Kash.

  His eyes warmed and he took my hand. Bending down to my ear, his hand going to press lightly on my back, he pulled me against him, saying, “I want to strip this off and spend the rest of the night deep inside of you.”

  Oh, dear Lord.

  He chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to my cheek before whispering, “You look beautiful.” Then he bent, his mouth sliding and hovering over my mouth.

  My breath. Gone. Again. He could do that in one look. Then he was nodding to me and the girls behind me. “I’ll be at the door.”

  My whole insides were trembling.

  Torie was shaking her head again. “Is he always like that?”

  A weak and shaky laugh was my only response, and her eyes widened at that.

  “Wow.”

  I nodded to that one. “Wow.”

  “Okay. Let’s finish up.” Tamara had pulled my hair back into a messy braided bun behind my head. Loose tendrils framed my face and were sprayed for volume, with a few pink roses stuck overtop the bun. My dress was an A-line V-neck with spaghetti straps that pressed over my top. It didn’t look tight, just smooth, like it was hugging me. The bottom had a slit up the thigh, with a shimmering silver-blue tint. As I moved, I felt the dress sliding sensually over me. There was no back, so no bra, and I felt the air graze over my back. It felt nice.

  I headed out to meet Kash. He opened the door, and I heard him draw in his breath.

  His hand came to my back, splaying out protectively, and he bent close. “Are you wearing underwear?”

  I only grinned at him. “You’ll find out tonight.”