Faking It with the Frenemy

He comes in, Champ’s head butting against his hip. I let the door close, biting my lower lip. He kisses me hard, like he misses me more than air itself, and my lungs go tight, my pulse racing. I lick him back, then stroke his tongue with mine, missing the heady scent of him—and the feel of him. How can two days seem this long?

“You look gorgeous,” he whispers against my mouth.

I flush. “So do you.”

“Here are the flowers for the most beautiful woman in my life.” He lifts a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

I take the daisies and inhale their fragrance. “Thank you.”

“They reminded me of you.”

The simple declaration is sweet and incredibly romantic, and makes my heart thump like Champ’s tail before dinner. For a moment, I feel like I have to tell him something, although I’m not sure exactly what. It’s as though my mind is unable to sort through the complex pattern of warm emotions swirling inside me.

In the end, I settle for a smile.

“You ready to go?” he asks.

“Yeah. You don’t have to rush, though.”

“I just need to drop off my bag before the party and change shirts. Mind if I take Princess later?”

“Sure. She seems to get along great with Champ.” Champ whines happily, like he agrees. Princess is nowhere to be seen, but she’s been playing peekaboo with him over the last couple of days, so I’m not too worried.

Wyatt leaves. I put the flowers in a vase, then place the arrangement on the coffee table. The second I straighten up from the task, he returns. Linking arms, we head out.

“So where’s the party?” he asks, once we’re in his car.

“Anthony Blackwood’s mansion. I have directions. He’s apparently Yuna’s soul brother-in-law.” I still can’t hide my dubious feelings about that title.

Wyatt seems to share my sentiment. As he pulls out of the lot, he asks, “What’s that?”

“The guy who married her soul sister.”

“Was she adopted? I mean the sister, not Yuna.”

“No. Anthony’s wife is white and definitely not adopted by Yuna’s family. It sounds like they’re best friends, but I think Yuna decided ‘best friend’ was too pedestrian to describe their relationship. So, soul sister.”

“Ah.”

“You don’t sound like you get it.” Not that I blame him, because I don’t get it either, but had to pretend like I did when Yuna explained it to me.

“Because I don’t. So other than your friends, who’s coming?”

“As far as I know, my former roommate Evie and her husband. Hilary and her husband Mark. Jo, who may or may not come with a date. She didn’t say. Edgar and Court Blackwood, who’re Anthony’s brothers. Court’s fiancée. Oh, and Ryder Reed is coming with his wife, too.” I try to sound excited about Ryder for Wyatt’s benefit, because he probably hasn’t seen any of big movie stars yet, having moved to L.A. so recently. But my level of enthusiasm isn’t all that high. I’ve dealt with Ryder plenty of times while working for Salazar.

Wyatt blinks. “Ryder Reed? As in the movie star?”

Is there a weird edge in his tone? “Yup. He’s Salazar’s nephew. Dane’s cousin.”

“I didn’t realize this was a Hollywood party…or that she knew so many people in the city. Do you know Melanie spent most of her time cutting out photos of Ryder Reed from magazines?”

“She’s not the only woman, I’m sure,” I say, not at all surprised. “And that’s pretty mild, as far as Ryder worship goes. Some of his more fanatical fans tried to kill him so nobody else would have him. Anywa

y, this isn’t a Hollywood party. He’s close to Anthony, which is how he got invited. Also, FYI, he’s just as incorrigible as Salazar.”

The mansion is huge, almost like a palace. The exterior is very classy—affluence in an elegant modern package. Since Anthony values his privacy more than flaunting his wealth, unlike some billionaires I know, he hasn’t let any reporters or magazines feature his home in their puff pieces. And unlike most billionaire homes in L.A., his place doesn’t have a pool. Instead, it has a lovely, shallow water garden with water lilies and cute floating lanterns with battery-powered “candles.” They make the entire garden look like something out of a fairy tale. Maybe this is the kind of new home I should find for Wyatt. Vi would certainly love it. But then…do I want him to move? I like having him next door.

Wyatt’s low whistle breaks my train of thought. “Holy shit. Did he buy this on the market? Because I didn’t see anything like this in those brochures you gave me.”