But the past still stung her like angry wasps—the memory of Emmett betraying her, the way his claim that she’d been dishonest had completely tanked her career. In that moment, in L&B’s office with Ira Becker, she’d been made to feel like a cheap hanger-on rather than the brilliant designer behind the work that had landed them a huge account.

And it was that memory, and Emmett’s dig of “more boobs than brains,” that made her chicken out.

“Miss? Your coat?” A man in a smart black suit held out his hands and Lily peeled her coat away, feeling exposed now that she was here. In reality, she was showing no more skin than anyone else, but the airy reminder of her lack of undergarments made her feel like she had a sign announcing that she wasn’t wearing anything under her dress.

“Oh, that dress!” Joanie exclaimed as the man took her coat. “You look absolutely gorgeous. Marcus will die.”

Lily blinked at her friend, stunned.

“Come on, Lil,” Clive said, plunging his hands into his pockets. “How much longer are you two gonna pretend not to be dating?”

“We know, sweetie,” Joanie said, when Lily didn’t respond. “Ever since the mansion you two have been behaving like horny teenagers.”

“Arguably,” Lily mumbled after swallowing another drink, “we’ve always behaved like teenagers with each other.”

“True.”

“So, it’s official, you and Marcus are doing it like rabbits,” Clive blurted.

“Crass!” Joanie slapped her husband in the arm. Then she wrapped that hand around his elbow and stood close to him. “How could you not tell us, though?” she asked Lily. “We’re your best friends.”

There was no way she could hide this for much longer anyway. “Emmett.”

Understanding dawned in Joanie’s eyes. “Oh. I forgot about him.”

If only Lily could do the same.

“Emmett Webster?” Clive asked, his brow dented. “I just met him. One of London’s guys. I think he’s the head of marketing or something.”

“Or something,” Lily muttered guiltily. “He’s the reason I left L&B.”

“Shit.” Clive’s jaw tightened. “He’s the asshole who—”

“Honey.” Joanie ran a soothing hand over Clive’s tuxedo sleeve. “Not the time. Or the place.”

“You don’t want Marcus to know,” Clive said, still looking unhappy.

“His speech,” Lily said. “He’s ready. He’s good. But I’m worried if he found out, he’d be murderous and then who knows…”

Clive gave her a slow nod. “Since I feel murderous, I think you may be right.”

“So, we’ll keep it to ourselves tonight. No biggie,” Joanie said.

“Don’t worry, Lil,” Clive said. “We won’t let that asshole rile you.”

His eyes went past Lily’s shoulder and she turned to see Marcus striding through the front doors. He looked so good tonight. So, so good. He wore a tux better than any man in the room. With those broad shoulders filling his jacket and his almost-black hair styled, his former stubble more a neatly trimmed beard… He’d grown it because she’d asked him to. Again, she wondered if he’d do just about anything for her.

Like come in here and pretend they weren’t dating.

“There you guys are,” Marcus said. His eyes briefly scanned down her dress and up again. “You scrub up nicely, McIntire.” It was almost the complete opposite of what he’d said in her doorway. When she’d opened her front door to find him standing on her step with a bouquet of roses, he’d given her a reverent sweep of his eyes, followed by, “Lily, my God. You’re a vision.” Followed by the quip about her undergarments. To which she played into his talented hands perfectly. She missed that joking, sharp version of them. This version felt dull and sterile by comparison.

“Thanks,” she said. “You look nice.”

His lips pressed together, clearly displeased to carry on like this.

Then the shithead hit the fan.

Emmett Webster approached from across the room. He wore an off-the-rack suit on his medium frame, and a salesman’s smile on his peach-fuzz face. She used to find him attractive. She still would, she supposed, if she hadn’t known about the lying, forked tongue hiding behind his pearly teeth. His sharp, dark-blue eyes sliced down her body and up again and she tried not to feel self-conscious.

“As I live and breathe,” he said.

She was aware of Marcus taking a step closer to her. She didn’t think he knew who Emmett was, but she could be wrong. Suddenly, she wished she hadn’t insisted on this charade. If Marcus knew Joanie and Clive knew about them, he’d have slipped an arm around Lily and she could have leaned into his strength… Then again, Emmett would probably have said something then there’d be a brawl in the center of the dinner.

She pictured Marcus punching Emmett out. It was not a bad picture. But definitely a bad idea. Marcus deserved the spotlight for his accomplishments.

“Reginald pointed you out.” Emmett smiled at Marcus, ignoring her now. He held out a hand and introduced himself. “Emmett Webster. I’ll be handing out your award tonight on behalf of Mr. London. I wanted to extend personal congratulations. As a former designer, I appreciate your work. It’ll be an honor, my friend.”

Marcus’s eyes were narrowed as he pumped the other man’s hand twice. He didn’t look as if he knew who Emmett was to Lily, or who he was at all, but she could tell by the bend of his eyebrows, Marcus didn’t buy her smarmy ex’s faux sentiments.

“Thanks,” Marcus said. His hand found her lower back and she stood straighter. “My coworker, Lily McIntire, and the owners of Cameron Designs, Clive and Joanie Cameron.”

“We’ve met,” Emmett said to Clive. “Joanie, is it?” He shook her hand next and Joanie speared him with a look of contempt. He held a hand out to Lily. “Lily of the Valley. We’ve met before, too.”

He would do that, wouldn’t he? Blurt out that stupid nickname in front of everyone.

One of Marcus’s eyebrows jumped, but other than that, he remained silent.

Their little reunion was interrupted by a voice crackling over the loudspeaker, asking everyone to take their seats.

“I’ll see you up there,” Emmett said to Marcus, and then he winked at Lily. “See you around.”

Once he’d gone, she felt Marcus’s dark gaze on her. “Lily of the Valley?”

“Um…inside joke. It’s stupid.” She clutched her champagne glass, watching Emmett go and wanting to tell Marcus everything. But now was not the time. “Tell you later.”

Marcus fell into step next to her as they made their way across the room to their assigned table. White tablecloths with turquoise linen napkins and black confetti decorated the table.

Cameron Designs was seated with another small firm at a table close to the stage, no doubt because Marcus needed to be near by when he stepped up there. At least London and Emmett weren’t seated at their table. She didn’t know if she could politely endure her ex for more than a few minutes.

Just a few hours and then she’d tell Marcus the truth. After the dinner, after his speech, preferably after they’d stripped each other out of their fancy clothes.

Once she was naked against him, she’d tell him everything. And he’d understand. She knew he would.

…

The roast chicken was bland and the green beans undercooked, but that wasn’t why Marcus didn’t eat much. Various members of the guild stepped up to the mic to speak, and he found himself imagining his turn. Imagining the hundreds of gazes locked on him… His stomach tossed like a rogue wave.

Clive and Joanie paid attention to the stage, and not to him and Lily. She sat to Marcus’s left, Joanie on her left, Clive on Joanie’s left. An older guy with a big gut and head full of graying hair sat to Marcus’s right. He was cheery enough, but every breath he took sounded like a wheeze. And he was sweating profusely. Their table was up front, but they were out of range of the hot lights overhead. Marcus sent him a strained smile and prayed the guy wasn’t about to have a heart attack.