He’s gone. He doesn’t even thank me for allowing him to stare at my butt for ten uninterrupted seconds.

It takes me twenty more minutes, but I follow the ghosts of Asher’s footsteps down to the lobby. I take the stairs because who doesn’t love a dramatic entrance? And I’ve watched this scene in every romantic comedy in existence. Jaws drop, the room gasps, and people are stunned by my beauty and grace.

“Olivia.”

His voice sends a chill up my spine, but not in a good way.

“Do you have any idea what you do to a man?”

Levi is taking my hand as I hit the final step. Without another choice, I allow him and scan the room for Asher.

“You are a vision in red.” He kisses my knuckle.

A week ago, my dress would have already been pooled around my ankles. Levi Booker. In a perfectly fitted blazer. With purposely messy hair. Smelling of Tom Ford and pure sin. Looking at me like I’m the hottest woman he’s ever seen. Like he wants to take me to his room and destroy me.

But there’s something in the way that he holds my hand. It’s careful control. Subtle demand. Just enough force to make my mouth dry.

“I didn’t expect to see you here tonight,” I say.

“I can say the same thing about you,” he says. “I had already written this whole night off, but then I get hand-delivered the most gorgeous Christmas present ever? I’m the luckiest man in the room.”

I’m not sure he sees me as anything more than a prize to be won. I’m a body to him. Someone who fits a mold that he’s deemed fuckable. I’ve never felt less sexy.

“I have a house not too far from here.”

“That’s nice.”

He laughs and squeezes my hand. “It’s right on the beach. It’s very romantic.”

“I’m not looking to be romanced,” I lie. I’m always looking to be romanced. Just not by Levi Booker, who is not well-liked in my small and strange group of friends.

“Then it’s all very repulsive,” he laughs. “Awful. A complete waste of four million dollars.”

“When you put it that way…”

“Does that mean you’re interested?”

“I’m sorry,” I say and try to pull my hand away. “I’m here for work.”

“Aw, c’mon.” He squeezes my hand harder. “When Asher’s away, Livi should play.”

To a room full of people, this looks harmless. It’s Levi Booker charming another girl out of her dress. It’s a page six write-up. An E!News exclusive. A blurry photo passed around Twitter. I’m another notch on his bedpost.

“O?”