Elastic Hearts (Hearts #3)

“You got some olive oil here,” he said, wiping it off.

I couldn’t formulate words as I watched Victor move toward us, his jaw clenched, eyes narrowed. My heart dipped into my stomach, and when he stood right in front of me, I could only swallow it all down and tilt my head to look at him.

“Hi. Congratulations,” I said.

“Thank you.” He paused, looking at Brent. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Victor Reuben. Nicole’s attorney.” The way he said it, almost as if he loathed the introduction, made my heart gallop.

“Brent Thomas. Nice to meet you.”

They shook hands, and all I could do was look at Victor’s face and wonder what happened.

“I need to speak to you before you leave,” Victor said to me, lowering his voice. “Alone. In my office.”

I was sure everybody in the room could see through us, hear the promise in his statement, feel the tension we created. His eyes raked up and down my body slowly, without a care in the world, as if there weren’t at least forty eyes on us. As we stood there, a tall blonde woman came up to us. At first I smiled at her, thinking she was one of the guy’s wives, but then she put her red nails on Victor’s face and touched his cheek, and my smile disappeared.

Victor’s lips twitched at whatever expression I must have been making, and it became clear that we were playing a game. A stupid, annoying, childish game I had no interest partaking in. My life was already a damn game with the media attention and Gabriel. I didn’t need that to bleed into this part of my life. Why the hell would he do this to me? He knows how much I hate the games I’ve had to play with Gabe.

“Does it hurt?” the blonde asked. Her voice felt like nails on a chalkboard, and I knew it was just me that felt that way.

“It’s fine,” he said. I wanted to punch him for not moving away from her touch.

“I can’t believe you didn’t let me drive you,” she said.

“I don’t let anybody drive my car,” he said. I hid my smirk behind my glass of champagne as I took a sip.

“I feel you,” Brent said beside me. “It takes a real special girl for me to take things to that level.”

“I feel the same. Only Marcus drives my car,” I said, feeling the need to chime in.

Marcus, who I needed to call so he could take an Uber here at some point and drive me home. Unless I just took one myself. Brent laughed and draped his arm around me. The way Victor was glaring at him, I was surprised lasers weren’t shooting from his eyes. Maybe this game would be fun after all.

“Maybe tonight will be my lucky night,” Brent said, clinking his glass of water with my nearly empty champagne flute. I raised an eyebrow, looking at our glasses.

“Maybe you’re right.”

“It was nice to meet you,” Brent said to Victor. “Congratulations. Nicky, aren’t you going to introduce me to your father?”

“Right,” I said, looking at Victor’s date, who he still hadn’t introduced. She was smiling at me though, so I felt obliged to return her smile as I walked away. My gaze got caught on Victor’s again. “See you around.”

While I introduced Brent to my dad, I checked my phone and veered off to the side to look at the text messages Chrissy had sent me.

CC: Did you see this?!?!

I opened up the message and clicked the link she’d attached, my stomach instantly dropping and curling in disgust as the pictures of Victor and the blonde girl appeared on my phone. They were holding hands, laughing, kissing, acting very together. Today. I felt the heat hit my ears first, and then spread quickly through my body. I’d hung out with Brent a few times outside my house, but that was all it was. Hanging out. It had never gotten to the point of kissing. He’d tried, but I’d shot him down and told him my mind was on someone else, because it was. I’d been too busy thinking about Victor, and that asshole now seemed too busy, actually playing the part a little too well.

Unless he wasn’t playing the part at all.

I narrowed my eyes in his direction, and sure enough, there he was, holding hands with the blonde.

Holding. Hands. With. The. Blonde.

I glared so hard, trying to make his head explode first, then hers. One of the waitresses passed by with more champagne. I set down my empty flute and took another.

“What is that? Number four?” Brent asked, joining me. I was too mad to smile, but I nodded as I took a sip. “I would say tonight might really be my lucky night, but I’m not into taking advantage.”

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