Attraction - a fraudulent marriage

3. stay out of trouble

I had never been to a charity dinner-thingy, so my only preparations were based on prejudice. Swedes paid their taxes and let the government distribute money to those who needed it. Sometimes we placed a coin or two in a beggar's cup or for a good cause, but charities like the ones in the US simply didn't happen on the regular. You could go a lifetime without attending one and no one would frown.

"Stop tapping your fingers." Chris gripped my hand and pinned it to the leather seat.

We battled for a while, but his hold wouldn't budge. I slumped back against the car seat and stared through the opaque privacy screen. "But I'm nervous."

"I'm sure Tom wouldn't mind dropping you off."

I gave Chris a flat stare—one meant to shut him up for the rest of the night. He'd dropped several hints of my blatant attraction, making more than enough fun of me. I hadn't acknowledged a single thing, of course, but he saw right through me.

"You've promised to introduce me to your boyfriend for ages now. Tonight it's happening." At least I could use that as a perfectly viable reason for wanting to tag along. It wasn't untrue. Chris had mentioned Dante too many times to count—almost to the point where I practically knew the guy. If Dante was half the man Chris made him out to be, he was worth a few seconds of my precious time. Apparently Dante would be around for a bit between tour dates, so maybe we would finally get the chance to know each other.

"You'll meet him, don't worry."

"I'm not worried. I'm never worried. That shit gives you wrinkles." I snatched my hand from his grip while he was distracted—thinking about Dante most likely. Chris always got this dreamy look in his eyes when he mentioned his boyfriend. It was rather cute, and I couldn't wait to see them together.

"Then stop fidgeting with your bow-tie. You're making me nervous."

Letting my hands drop to my knee, I made a conscious effort to look unaffected. I had taken plenty of acting classes in Sweden. In fact, acting was one of my secret weapons. No one on this side of the Atlantic knew of my talents, and until I actually made an effort to score a role, I would stay silent. Failed attempts were embarrassing.

I put on my best face and smiled. "I'm a cool bean."

"Jeez, you pick up the weirdest expressions." Chris checked something on his phone as if he were done with our discussion.

I was about to say something when the car slowed to a smooth stop. Tom sure knew how to drive a car, and hopefully he knew how to handle other kinds of rides. Perhaps it was time to stop my seriously stalkerish thoughts, but I was having too much fun, and besides, I didn't really mean anything by it.

Peering out the window, I caught sight of a massive entrance with pillars and everything. A red carpet lay snug on the steps, surrounded by white fences. Flashes went off in quick succession as a couple ascended the steps.

"Chris..." I couldn't stop staring.

"Yeah."

"What the hell. You didn't tell me there'd be photographers and shit."

He shook with compressed laughter. "Guess I forgot."

My palm landed with a slap on his upper arm. "Forgot? Right."

"Hey, you wanted to join. I got you a ticket. Wouldn't hurt you to be grateful for a change. Besides, you're pretty enough for the cameras."

I gave him another flat stare. "Of course I am."

A guy dressed to the nines opened the car door for me, and for a moment I could only gawk. The bell boy wore a better suit than I did—not fair. Swallowing my doubts, I got out and tried to feel as cool as I looked. If I were to embody the suave, young heir with his pockets full of money, the least I could do was ignore the cameras with the right kind of self-assured indifference.