I gave a bark of laughter. "Oh, please. What, you're shocked by my language?"To be honest, I was a little shocked myself.
Her mouth tightened, but she made no reply.
I forced another laugh. "I mean, hey, that's what I'm supposed to be doing, isn't it? 'Fucking' Dominic?"
At this, my mother had the good grace to look embarrassed, but only for a split second before she lifted her chin and announced, "I suggested no such thing."
Liar.
I knew my mother, probably better than she knew herself. And I knew exactly what she'd been getting at, even if she was now trying to pretend otherwise.
Her hand was still on my elbow. Her fingers tightened, and she gave another yank. Her long nails dug into my skin, and I tried not to flinch.
That's when I heard it – the sound of an unfamiliar male voice, asking, "How's it goin'?"
I stifled a gasp. The way it sounded, the voice had come from directly behind me. I whirled to look, only to stop halfway when the hand on my arm prevented further movement.
Damn it.
With a sound of frustration, I whirled back to my mom and gave her a pleading look, not that it did a lick of good. Her gaze was firmly glued to the stranger.
From the way she was staring, she liked what she saw.
Well, this was just great.
I had no idea what the stranger looked like, but I could make some pretty good guesses. He was definitely tall. That much was obvious by the way my mom was craning her neck to stare up at him. He was also very rich or very good-looking – possibly both. My mom had an eye for life's finer things and even now, was probably cataloguing his clothes and assessing his net worth.
From the gleam in her eyes, it was impressively high.
Her lips curved into a slow, sultry smile. "It's going fabulous," she replied. "How's it going with you?"
Oh, for God's sake.
Again, I tried to look. Again, my mom held firm. Short of making a fool of myself, I didn't know what to do.
But soon, I didn't need to do anything because just then, the guy strode into my line of vision. He stopped within arm's reach, an equal distance between me and my mom. His cool gaze swept over both of us before it strayed to the limo, idling at the curb just a few feet away.
As formygaze, it remained firmly on him.
He was no Dominic.
And for once, I could totally see why my mom was staring.
The guy was tall and perfectly proportioned with dark, wavy hair and dark, dangerous eyes. He was wearing a black tuxedo of all things. It fit him perfectly, showing off his wide shoulders, trim waist, and long, lean legs.
My silent inspection ended at his shoes. They looked expensive, but what did I know? My own shoes were borrowed, just like the rest of my stupid outfit.
I was still studying his shoes when it occurred to me that he hadn't answered my mom's question. I mimicked her voice in my head.How's it going with you?
I almost scoffed out loud.Seriously?
I was no mind-reader, but it wouldn't be hard to guess the guy's honest answer.Terrible.
The street was utterly deserted, which meant that he must've come from that exotic sports car – the one that had just crashed, thanks to the drama between me and my mom.
As I stared down at his shoes, I braced myself, waiting for him to start yelling, or at the very least, demand my name, or my insurance, or something.
But other than his oddly casual greeting, he'd been eerily silent.
