Slade clears his throat. “I’ll be working at the party. But you’ll enjoy yourself. Some big celebrities and fashion people are here.”

His demeanor shifts as we get closer to the restaurant but not in a bad way. His chest inflates, and his stride quickens. This is Slade in his element, focused and razor sharp. He cracks his knuckles, and my insides clench. He’s so hot; I can barely stand it.

He bends down to kiss my lips, and I lean up into him, wrapping my arms around his neck. His warm tongue is slow, deep, and delicious in my mouth, full of promise for more later. I should be afraid, but with the way he’s treating me now with so much kindness and love, it isn’t hard to tell myself that this morning wasn’t as bad as I thought.

I’m glassy-eyed when he lets me go, moving his lips to my ear. “Only man,” he says protectively.

Chills slide over my arms.

When he leaves, I’m breathless with need. But then, like an unannounced rainstorm, my internal alarm shrieks in warning. I have to figure out what’s going on with him. It’s as though all of the events of this morning have been erased from his memory and mine. It wasn’t my imagination; what I saw was real. He’s acting like all is well, and nothing is off. I know in my gut that this issue with him is only growing by the day.

No, I won’t let myself freak out. I want to enjoy the evening. It’s been ages since I actually had fun somewhere. I’ll have a few cocktails with Eve and let loose. Tomorrow though, I’ll deal with Slade.

I open my bag and check the time on my phone. I’ll get a drink at the bar and hopefully bump into Eve, who should be inside. There’s no way they’re on the carpet, posing for any photos. As much as Vincent is famous in name, he’s very careful to not show his face anywhere on the internet or on social media in particular. Eve mentioned how Vincent already paid off the photographers to exclude him in every single photo.

I enter without nerves, feeling back in my element. In LA, club and restaurant openings are part of my social calendar. After years of being in the scene, my friends and I know all of the big restaurateurs, who love to have hot, single women frequenting their parties. Even while engaged, Sanam still ditches Reza to be at the big parties.

“Once you leave the circuit, there might not be a spot for you again,” she once cautioned.

Hook, the newest addition to the Milestone’s restaurant list, is already full of people standing and mingling while waiters walk around with trays of delicious hors d’oeuvres. I’m offered a miniature lettuce wrap filled with vegetable squab, and I take it. It melts in my mouth, but I resist the temptation to call the waiter back for more. Other than that yoga class, I haven’t been exercising at all. I’m sure I’ll pay for these calories in pounds. Whatever. I’ll just add it to my list of things I’m ignoring right now.