“Bunnies compared to the people I’m used to dealing with. The Headhunters are after my head, remember? Doesn’t get much worse than that.”
Another problem he needed to deal with. She didn’t want his money, but he had to do something to help smooth the waters there until her insurance paid up. “That’s not a fact I’m soon to forget, but you’re wrong. Maybe these socialites won’t gun you down, but they’ll stab you in the back if you give them the slightest opening. Don’t give them one. Don’t trust anybody.”
“It’s only paranoia if they’re not out to get you, right?” When he didn’t smile back at her, she nudged his shoulder. “Relax, Hershey. I’ll watch your six if you watch mine. Now let’s go in before whoever is manning the security cameras wonders why we’re just sitting here.”
Yeah, she was right. He rolled down his window and hit the buzzer for the gate, waited a moment for a response, and stated his name. The gate slid open soundlessly a moment later, and he guided the Escalade toward the valet waiting in front of the house. “If you get cornered at any point during the night, your best bet is to play the dumb trophy wife. It’ll be what they expect from you, anyway.”
“Oh, dream come true! I’ve always wanted to be a trophy wife,” she said with mock excitement then rolled her eyes. “Not.”
He winced. Jesus, this was so wrong. If his mother were alive, she’d slap him silly for putting Shelby through this farce. “I’m sorry.”
“Reece.” She tugged on his jacket sleeve until he looked at her again. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be, okay? This is about more than me needing the protection of your name. I’m the reason you’re being blackmailed and I want to help. If I have to play the dumb trophy wife, then I’ll be the dumbest trophy wife around. Now deep breath and woosah. We got this.”
Impossibly, a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he climbed out of the SUV and walked around the hood to open Shelby’s door for her. She hooked her arm through his and smiled up at him like the smitten wife she was supposed to be. Damn, she was good. He had to give her that—as adaptable as a chameleon.
And if he didn’t relax, he’d be the one to blow up their little charade, not her.
Chapter Fourteen
The evening passed in a whirl of fake air kisses and small talk, and Shelby lost interest about halfway through cocktail hour. She’d played up the dumb trophy wife, but now as she sipped at her glass of champagne, she wondered if she’d done too good of a job. The women she found herself surrounded with gossiped endlessly about people she didn’t know and frankly, didn’t care about. But one of them was Irving James’s wife, Charlotte, and so she made all the appropriate noises at all the appropriate times.
Reece had been right. These people had teeth, and navigating the room was like swimming through a shark tank with an open wound. Honestly, she’d be more comfortable mingling at The Headhunter’s bar, but then, she’d been born into that world. A different universe, really, full of guns and drugs and the roughest of rough men. This whole entitled, born-with-a-silver-spoon life was so far beyond her, she could see why Reece had suggested the dumb act. There was no way she’d fit in with these people as herself. At least you always knew where you stood with The Headhunters.
And how interesting that Irving James, a man with such strict expectations of proper behavior, had a wife who was less than half his age. Hypocritical much?
Shelby was just about to make up an excuse to leave the group when a gorgeous brunette in a sapphire dress sauntered up and gracefully cut in to the conversation. She handled herself like she was used to swimming these dangerous waters. “Oh, I’m so sorry to interrupt, Charlotte, but is this Reece’s new bride?”
Charlotte tittered. There was no other word for the delighted sound she made. Yup, their wedding was already providing fodder for the rumor mill. “Alicia, this is Shelby. Shelby, Alicia Porter. I’m surprised you two haven’t met before now.”
“We haven’t had the pleasure,” Alicia said and smiled at Shelby. “But I was hoping to see you here tonight. Dylan has talked about you nonstop since Reece told him about you yesterday.”
Dylan? Shelby froze, her mind drawing a complete blank. On the way to the party, Reece had briefed her on the names she’d hear tonight, but she didn’t remember a Dylan. Probably because she’d only been half listening at the time, too distracted by nerves.
Okay, process of elimination. Reece had only gone two places yesterday that she knew of—the Wilde Security office, and nobody but his brothers would have been there, and DMW. So this Dylan guy must work at DMW and, if he and his wife were here tonight, he must be high up in the company. Maybe even Reece’s second-in-command.