He says nothing, but stands there, hanging on to me, and I don’t know why I let him. A hand meets mine, and I open my eyes to find Beretta.

He nudges my palm open, pulling my keys from my grip.

He nods, unlocks it, and Ransom leads me into the back seat as Beretta slips behind the wheel.

The top rolls back as a second engine roars and I turn my head to find Arsen has pulled up beside us.

He winks and slowly rolls forward.

Beretta pulls out behind him and off we go.

I don’t know what the hell is happening or why I go with their every move, but I do.

And I can’t bring myself to regret it.

At least... not yet.

Chapter 19

Sequins and Satin and Diamond Studs, oh my.

Literally, the chaises are covered, the garment racks overflowing, and the seamstresses are working on overdrive to keep their smiles on their faces when, really, they’re wondering if they can get away with letting a pin slip and call it an accident.

“What about this one, can it be taken in, extended at the hem and the back twisted rather than crossed? Maybe even dyed a shade darker?” Amy holds a gown to her front, shifting from side to side.

“So basically, can the dress you’re holding be completely redesigned to create an entirely new one?” Jules snaps, swapping out the purple disaster in her hand for another.

Amy cuts a glare toward her sister, her eyes flitting past mine but coming right back when she catches me staring. She folds the gown over her arm and a woman comes up beside her, quickly taking it and smoothing it out.

“Not trying anything on today, James?”

I shake my head.

“Skipping the Fall Ball, are we? And what, might I ask will you be doing instead?” There’s a hint of accusation in her squeaky little tone, one that has me sitting up slightly.

“Oh, my god, you’re not going?!” Cali whips around with a frown.

Jules and a few others are staring now too.

Amy smirks, her chin lifting a little higher as she grabs for another dress.

“I never said I wasn’t going.”

Amy’s movements falter.

“I said I wasn’t trying anything on.”

“If you wait any longer, your dress will never be ready,” Jules stresses, hiccupping and reaching for her wine glass as if it will help.

“I already have mine settled.” As I figured it would, that gets Amy’s attention. “It’s on its way.”

It’s a lie, but I know exactly why Amy suddenly wanted to join us in Los Angeles today. She wants to see for herself what I lean toward as far as style, so she can one-up it.