But the bigger issue was that the double doors to the ballroom were open again and there was Dante, charging out like he was on the football field. He looked ready to take action the way he did every Sunday as a professional player. He would want answers. He would want me to go back in there and marry his ass just to make him look good.
Nope.
So I did the only thing I could. I hit the elevator button so the door would shut and I got completely in the stranger’s personal space. I walked right up to him, until my body was brushing against his. I boldly stared him in the eyes like a straight-up crazy person. It worked. He backed up instinctively. The doors slid shut and we were going down.
“Are you running from the cops?” I asked, taking a step back from the gorgeous blonde who was very much in my face. I was mildly annoyed by the interruption, mostly curious, and definitely in no hurry to get to the party. “Because I don’t think you’ll get very far.”
She had turned to watch the floor numbers descending on the elevator panel. “What? No, I’m not running from the cops.” She turned back to me. “But if I was, what makes you think I wouldn’t be a good criminal? I could be an awesome criminal.”
Amused, I eyed her. She definitely wasn’t a criminal. She was tall, with thick waves in her blond hair, bright blue eyes, and rich full lips that made my mouth water. Her dress was missing the sides, like someone had taken a giant hole punch to it, and I could see smooth, pale skin and a narrow waist. The slit up the front of the dress showed a lot of very toned leg.
“You won’t blend on the street,” I pointed out. “You’re wearing a skintight red dress and you don’t have a coat on. They’d spot you half a block away.”
“You’re right. That’s a problem. Switch clothes with me.”
I couldn’t tell if she was serious or joking. In either case, I raised my eyebrows. I didn’t want to escape this party that bad. “Uh, no. Absolutely fucking not. I don’t look good in red.”
She laughed. “It was worth a shot.” Then she ran her eyes over me. “Though you might be a little broad in the shoulders anyway.”
Damn straight I was. I’d been a pro football player for nine years and I still worked out every day. Especially now that I was on the downslide to forty. “So what are you running away from?”
Her phone was buzzing repeatedly in her purse and she wasn’t making any move to retrieve it and see who was contacting her.
“Let’s just say that I ended a relationship and he is not thrilled with me.”
Interesting. “Why tonight? What was the final straw?”
“He bamboozled me.”
We stopped on the thirty-second floor. The doors opened and an elderly couple stepped on the elevator. I greeted them and shifted closer to Red Dress to give them room, trying to figure out what the fuck getting bamboozled entailed. “What does that mean?” I murmured to her.
“You know, getting duped, hoodwinked. Set-up, blindsided.” She gestured for me to come closer, tipping her head toward the elderly couple.
I bent down to get closer to her mouth and she cupped her hand in front of her lips. “Trick fuckery,” she murmured. “Isn’t that just the worst?”
Straightening back up, I wasn’t sure if I should laugh or hit a button to get off the next floor. “I don’t really know what that means, to be totally honest.”
She pulled her phone out of her purse and glanced at it. She groaned in despair. Then she showed me her phone. She had multiple texts from “Sexy BF” on her screen. Scanning them, I was shocked with how he was addressing her. Telling her to get back upstairs or she’d be sorry. Calling her a psycho. Asking her if she was mental or just a loser.
“Oh, hell, no,” I said, shaking my head, getting more and more outraged with each word I read. “There is nothing you could have done to justify these texts. A real man would not talk to a woman like this.”
“I agree. He says it’s because he’s Greek but I feel like that’s just insulting to a whole country.”
“It’s not because he’s Greek. It’s because he’s an asshole.” I glanced at the elderly couple. “My apologies for the language.”
The doors to the elevator opened. I put my hand in front of it for the couple to exit and even though she was clearly in a hurry the blonde waited until they were safely off before she picked up the hem of her dress and started fast-walking toward the front of the lobby. I followed stride to stride with her, wondering what the hell her plan was. I didn’t trust Sexy BF as far as I could throw the limp-dick prick.
“What are you going to do?” I asked her.
“I don’t know. He’s seriously never talked to me like this before. Like, it’s unnerving. He’s never even raised his voice. He’s clearly pissed off and I don’t think I should go home because I feel like he’s going to show up there. Maybe I’ll go to a friend’s apartment.”
“That’s a great idea. Let me get you a cab.” I held open the front door to the hotel and cold air washed over us. I handed the doorman fifty bucks. “We need a cab right now.”
“Yes, sir.” He blew his taxi whistle and raised his hand.
Given that it was December in Manhattan he had a heavy long overcoat on and his doorman cap. The woman beside me was shivering in her revealing dress. I peeled my tux jacket off and put it over her shoulders.
She smiled at me. “Thanks. I’m freezing my tits off.”
I had not expected her to say that. Like a magnet, my eyes automatically dropped to her chest. Tits still intact. Very high, very full, very suckable tits, still there. “We certainly don’t want that.” I was suddenly very aware of how long it had been since I’d touched a naked woman. Way too long. Being a single dad put a serious damper on casual sex.
The woman glanced back at the door. “This is taking too long. I’m going to get caught. I need to just start walking and try to find a cab.” With those words, she did just that, my jacket still over her shoulders as she started moving away from the congestion of cars moving in and out of the lane in front of the hotel.
Shit. Now what? Did I follow her or just leave her to her own devices?
“Sir?” the doorman called out to me. “Don’t you need a cab?”
Easy decision. I followed her. I wanted to make sure she got in a cab safely and was away from her ex who clearly didn’t handle rejection well. I waved to the doorman. “Keep the tip, thanks for trying. We’re going to walk.”
“There are no cabs!” she lamented as she walked faster than I would have ever thought possible in those very high heels. “We don’t have time to wait for a car service. What is it with this town? Nine million cabs when you don’t need one, zero when you do.”
I scanned the street and she was right, there was a serious dearth of taxis.
She grabbed my forearm and squeezed. “Oh, no, I think I see him coming out the front door. Walk faster!”
Her voice sounded so urgent that I came up with the only solution I could think of. “Come on.” I took her hand in mine and tugged her across the street at the intersection, taking long strides. I’d spotted a horse and carriage at the ready waiting for someone to want to take a ride. “Hop in,” I told her.