All That Jazz (Butler Cove #1)

“What is it?” I ask, not committing until I hear what he has to say. Also my voice will sound strangled if I try any more words. How on earth does Keri Ann deal with him being so famous?

“Keri Ann asked me not to come to her event tomorrow night. She’s worried about me overshadowing her. But I really want to be there to support her. I’m thinking of going anyway. But I need to know if she’ll be okay with it. I won’t go if you think it’ll make her push me further away.”

“Oh boy.” I blow a sharp puff of air through my closed lips.

“I know. This is a tough spot. But, I love her. I want her to succeed. I—” Hearing Jack Eversea so vulnerable—just a guy with girl problems—calms my nerves.

“I get it,” I tell him. “I told her the same thing when we were dress shopping earlier. If I could use any influence to help her, I would. We all would. So I totally understand where you’re coming from, and I told her so. I’ll support you and put in a good word when you show up. But seriously? If you waltz in there and flash your millions and buy all her art, I’ll skewer you with my stiletto. I bought a very high, very strappy pair to go with my dress, and I wouldn’t think twice.”

Jack laughs into the phone. “Can I buy at least one of them?”

“Ugh. Fine. One.”

“Are you sure she’ll be okay with me showing up?”

“She loves you too, Jack. She’s hurting. Trust me, whatever she says, she wants you there.”

He lets out a long audible breath. “Also, I haven’t managed to put a lid on that reporter, so I need to ask you an even bigger favor.”

I purse my lips. “Listening.”

“Can you pack Keri Ann a go bag? Like if we need to leave town fast? I don’t know when the story is going to drop, and I promised her and Joey I’d do my best to keep her away from the paparazzi. I have a feeling it may happen tomorrow night, during her event. It would be just the kind of asshole thing Tom Price, the reporter, would do.”

“So, wait. You want me to pack Keri Ann a bag and not tell her?”

There’s a pause. “Yeah.”

“You know, Jack, you’re asking a lot.”

“I know, I—”

“I’ll do it. But listen. I have a pretty vivid imagination, and if you ever fuck with her, I’ll make up a juicy story and sell it to the tabloids myself.”

“Noted.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow and sweep my girl off her feet, okay? She deserves it.” I hit the end button.

Even if I didn’t want to, I’d keep my date with Joey so I could have a few minutes alone with him and let him know what was going on.





“YOUR HAIR LOOKS amazing,” Keri Ann coos.

I laugh. “You’ve said that, like, a million times. Does it usually look awful?”

“No, idiot. It’s just they made it so silky and wavy, you just look so ‘worth it.’”

“Ha.” My hair actually does look spectacular. I feel a little bit like a princess. In the best way.

“You look amazing too,” I tell her. Keri Ann is wearing an original vintage beaded dress from the twenties and her hair and makeup are professionally done to compliment the look. She’s stunning.

We’d arrived back from Savannah and immediately gone to see Mrs. Weaton. It was absolute luck that she still had the vintage gown that had belonged to her mother. It was a true work of art. And absolutely the perfect style to fit my best friend’s unique personality.

I smooth my hands down my red dress.

“You’re nervous too,” Keri Ann says to me. “I thought I was the only one.”

“It’s Joey. He’s making me nervous. I’m going to go down before you and have a chat with him. Have you thought more about your decision to ask Jack not to show up?” I deflect back to her.

She sighs. “I can’t stop thinking about it. But it’s a bit late now. What’s done is done. I just want to get through tonight and then I’ll concentrate on working out our relationship.”

I want to tell her I know exactly how she feels. Instead, I smile and air-kiss her so I don’t mess up her makeup and tell her I’ll see her downstairs in fifteen minutes. I’ve already packed a few things of hers in one of my bags I’m putting on the porch for Jack to pick up on his way to the event later.

Walking into the kitchen, I’m treated to the back view of Joey in a well-fitting black tux.

He turns as I enter, a bottle of sparkling wine in his hands, the foil half off. His eyes, that are looking particularly vivid tonight, rake down my body from my head to my toes, ending with him letting out a long exhale.

I kind of feel like doing the same. I want to loosen that bow tie and mess up his perfect hair.

“Wow,” he says after another few seconds pass.

“Wow, to you too,” I return.

He clears his throat. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you. Is that Prosecco? I’m parched.”

He smiles. “Yes.”

“So I need to tell you something quickly, while we are alone.” I close the gap between us, inhaling his woodsy cologne surreptitiously as I get close.

He leans into me. It’s hard to think clearly when he’s looking and smelling so delicious.

“Shoot,” he says.

“Jack Eversea called me. He wasn’t able to kill that story. It will probably break tonight.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”