That bitch was at it again. Unless she never stopped, and I just hadn’t gotten wind of it. Either way, I had, like, a week reprieve before she slipped back into her old habits.
But… she was right.
Knowing Shane loved me as I was meant I’d made no effort in my hair, or makeup, how I dressed. I was always a roll-out-of-bed-and-go kind of girl.
When that text appeared from Judy, I hadn’t trusted it. Kim hadn’t, either, and had immediately called her. Once we’d gotten the reason Judy betrayed Molly, I’d been left feeling no better about myself. In hindsight, getting my hair straightened and my makeup done was a dumb thing to do. I let Molly get to me, once again.
And I couldn’t blame Shane for his shocked reaction. On the ride over to Granite, I’d felt like an imposter. Even though Molly would never know how much she’d messed with my head, I’d felt sick knowing I’d let her. So, as my mom and Leila complimented my new look, I vowed I was done letting that nasty girl get the best of me.
With my eyes trained on him, Shane tucked his phone into his back pocket and forced a smile. “I am so ready for this party,” he said to me before focusing on our parents. “Thank you, guys, for throwing it.”
“You kids worked hard and deserve to celebrate,” my mom responded.
“Too bad Chuck E. Cheese couldn’t accommodate us,” Dad droned. “That was my suggestion.” I rolled my eyes as he pointed out the window and added, “Not sure this crap would be happening at a kids’ pizza joint.” The car rolled up in front of the bar, revealing the reason for my dad’s words.
Leila released a frustrated huff. “Someone must have tipped them off.”
The stress on Jack’s face was visible when he said, “Okay, kids. Heads down. Don’t engage.”
Shane and I both nodded. We were used to chaotic scenes, paparazzi waiting for the perfect shot or fans waiting to be acknowledged. But I’ve never been able to adapt to this part of my father’s fame.
One of my first memories of him when he’d come into my life was having to push our way through a mob scene to get to his building. Back then, based on the drama that followed my father, it was a constant struggle. Those out-of-control, need-to-get-the-story situations were less rare, until the media got information that Devil’s Lair would be present for an event or party… like now.
We silently filed out—first my parents, then Shane and me, with Jack and Leila behind us. Shane took my hand as a barrage of questions came at us, making it hard to even decipher what they were saying.
The flashes, the screaming, the panic swelling in my chest caused me to stumble. Shane’s hand tightened around mine, and Oscar instantly flanked my right side. His presence comforted me. Even though Granite’s security had the mass contained behind velvet ropes a few feet from the entrance, they were too close for my comfort. It took only one ballsy fan to run out, and then all hell would break loose. Oscar’s massive frame would also shield us from any photo opportunities that would be plastered all over the gossip sites the next day.
The outside of the building was nothing special, and it looked more like a warehouse than Manhattan’s hot spot… until we stepped into the lobby. Greeted by a man I assumed was the manager, he hugged our moms and shook hands with our dads.
When he turned to Shane and me, I smiled. “I’m Vinny. Welcome to Granite and congratulations.”
“Thank you,” we both said in unison.
Vinny produced two lime-green wristbands. “I hate to do this to you, but—” He shrugged, leaving the statement hanging. Shane and I responded by offering our wrists. “You’re all set.”
“Is it okay if I give her a quick tour?” Shane asked him before glancing to our parents, who nodded their consent.
“Sure… sure. Have fun,” Vinny answered with a wave of his hand toward a black glass door.
Shane led me through it, and the faint music we’d heard in the lobby thumped louder, with a heavy bass tone. Speaking wasn’t possible as we walked around the dance club, taking it all in.
Once we got back into the elevator and headed to the second floor, Shane said, “This floor has a wraparound balcony that looks down on the dance floor. My dad said there are a bunch of rooms with the same view that could be booked for private parties.” He waggled his eyebrows as if that was a possibility for us.
“Keep wishing.”
“Next year… you and I are getting one of those rooms,” he said with a grin.
Another tour, including the rooms he mentioned, had us back to where we started. Seconds later the elevator opened to the rooftop bar, where our party was being held.
“Oh my God,” I said on a gasp. Glass walls and ceiling made it appear as if the bar floated above the New York City skyline. A DJ on stage had our parents’ latest single playing over the speakers. Long tables with chafing dishes lined the wall, facing a cool granite stone bar. Small tables tucked around the sleek black marble dance floor, lit with flickering candles, made the room cozy despite all the stone and glass. “This is amazing.”
Shane nodded through his grin. “Right? Describing it doesn’t do it justice.”
“Not at all.”
“Mom and Dad said years ago the ceiling was all open, but that meant they couldn’t have events in the cold weather. So the owner had the whole thing encased in glass.” My eyes swept over the enclosure, the light fixtures shimmering like stars and enhancing the night sky above.
I turned toward our parents, who watched my reaction with smiles on their faces. “Thank you, guys. This is beautiful.”
“You’re very welcome,” Jack said. “Although, except for footing half the bill, your dad had nothing to do with it.”
Dad blinked at Jack a few times and then released a monotone “Bite me.”
As Shane pointed out other things for me to see, our moms took off to ensure the food was ready to go. It just occurred to me that we were the first ones there. “I thought you said Chase was here.”
Shane stared at me. “No. He asked how far away we were.” He then gripped my hand tighter and added, “Come. I want to show you something else before everyone gets here.”
As he tugged me across the empty dance floor toward a hallway, Jack asked, “Showing her the overhang?”
“Yeah.” Shane’s eyes flicked to where my dad was chatting with one of the bartenders. “Can you distract him, Dad?”
“I’ll try.” That propelled Shane to tug me harder and faster.
After hurrying down a dimly lit hall that held the bathrooms, I said, a bit panicked, “There is no way I’m having sex with you in this overhang thingy, Shane.”
Twisting his head, he stared at me over his shoulder and frowned. “Although that is such a sweet sentiment, that’s not what we’re going to do.”
He then pushed through a frosted-glass door onto a patio. Not unlike the rooftop bar, glass surrounded the whole space. But where it differed was in the open air above the half-glass banisters—and in the glass floor beneath our feet.
It was so unexpected that my steps faltered as nerves took over logic, suggesting we weren’t on safe footing.
“It’s okay,” Shane prompted, pulling me farther across the area. “Cool, right?”