The Promotion (Contemporary Reverse Harem 3)

“Guys, we gotta get going,” I insisted.

“Yo,” Anson said, looking at his phone, “the limo’s downstairs.”

I took a deep breath and looked at the guys. “Let’s go. Brade is waiting for us.”

The guys helped me climb into the backseat, no easy feat in a long dress and stiletto heels. When we were settled, Anson, who was seated next to me, took my hand as we drove across Los Angeles.

“How’d you get to be so gorgeous, darling?” he asked.

“I might ask the same of you. All three of you,” I said, looking from one to the other as we swayed in the rolling limo. Good lord.

Tonight was a big night. Brade was receiving a humanitarian award for his fundraising efforts for the foundation. He insisted that it was really an award for the five of us, but that didn’t matter. We would have been there to support him, regardless. There was going to be a celebrity-studded party afterward that promised to carry on ‘til the wee hours of the morning. I’d had someone come by the hotel to do my hair and makeup, had bought some crazy-expensive designer dress, and didn’t think I’d ever felt so damn good.

We climbed out of the limo into a cacophony of a big, festive party getting underway. Someone with a clipboard waved us toward a red carpet. I was nervous as hell and was petrified of sweating on my dress, but I held my head up like I went to events like it all the time.

Keep smiling, I reminded myself.

The clipboard person pointed to a spot where we were to stop on the red carpet, and Brade appeared out of nowhere to join us. The crowd went wild when they saw him, and he smiled and waved as he took my hand and gave me a kiss on the cheek. He nodded at the rest of the guys, and we all lined up, holding hands like one big happy family. There might have been questions the next day, or even right then, but we didn’t care. We were together, and we had nothing to hide.

My four darlings were sharing me.

Cameras flashed in our faces as we smiled, ignoring the questions coming from the press. Well, except for one.

“How’d you get lucky enough to win this award, Braden?” one of the reporters called out.

Brade looked at me, and then the rest of the guys. And I knew just what they were thinking.

It wasn’t about luck.

It was about love.

THE END