helicopter.
She slid into her truck as she watched them take off and turn west toward LA. Blowing air out her tight lips, she ticked off the reasons a long distance relationship would never work. She turned the key in the ignition and heard a beep from her phone. A text message. It was from Joe. “Don’t go on that date tonight.”
She smiled, her heart filled with hope despite her pessimistic tendencies.
What crazy excuse could she use today with online dating service guy?
****
A week later, Valerie and Troy entered Caesar’s Palace on the red carpet for the Las Vegas Big Brothers/Big Sisters Gala. She smiled at the cameras as the paparazzi yelled, “Troy.”
“You weren’t kidding about this being fancy.” He tugged at his tie and his hand shook as he held her elbow. Troy’s gaze darted nervously. Sweet guy. Her big, tough football player hadn’t been raised in the public eye the way she had. Celebrity status was new to him.
“You look nice in a tux.” With a pat on his hand, she reassured him.
The opulently decorated ballroom sparkled with the sequined gowns of Las Vegas’ society women, whose escorts clumped in groups, looking like flocks of penguins.
Troy let out a breath and adjusted his tie. “I’ve never been comfortable in this type of setting.” He looked at her. “But you look like a million bucks tonight.”
“Thank you.” Valerie had gone shopping and found a floor length, black sequined sheath that hugged her breasts and accentuated her curves. She’d pulled her hair up in a chignon and slid her feet into perilously high-heeled sandals.
She smiled, feeling sexy and a little brazen.
They picked up champagne glasses and wandered until they found Monica and their brother Ryan, who both came without dates, and the four of them made the circuit of philanthropists and celebrities.
The mayor gave Valerie and her sister friendly kisses on the cheek and shook Ryan’s hand. Valerie introduced him to Troy. After talking football for five minutes, the mayor turned to Valerie. “May I speak with you privately?”
Ryan’s turquoise eyes locked with hers and his brows rose.
She shrugged her shoulders as the mayor guided her off to a corner, looked around as if to make sure no one was listening, then leaned in with a frown. “I got a call from Antonio Daniato this week.”
A flush of panic washed through her and she swallowed hard. “Oh?”
The mayor looked at her face. She must be as red as her lipstick. “He wanted to know about you. I assumed he was interested in you romantically, but he asked about your involvement in committees and charities.”
The music started, a ’70s cover band, and they were loud.
She leaned closer to the mayor. “What else?”
“Well, nothing. I mentioned the shelter and this event, but—”
Valerie swayed, felt her chest tighten. Oh, God, Antonio was looking for a public event to humiliate her.
The mayor grabbed her arm. “Are you all right, dear?”
She choked back the anxiety attack threatening to send her running. “I’m sorry, I haven’t been feeling well. I think I’ll find Troy and ask him to take me home.”
“Of course.” He gestured toward the dance floor. “I see Ryan right behind you. Shall I get him?”
She smiled, wanting to reassure him. “No, really, I’m fine. You know how it is. I’ve been starving myself to fit into this dress…”
He nodded. “I completely understand. You go, but call me when you feel better. I’d like to get a handle on this Daniato thing.”
She leaned in for a kiss on the cheek and went to find Troy.
Ryan stood beside the dance floor, and she put her hand on his arm. “Where’s Troy?”
“Monica stole your date.” He nodded toward their sister and Troy dancing to Springsteen’s “Born to Run.” Monica danced gracefully and the quarterback—she tried not to wince—did the best he could. They looked like they were having fun, which was all that mattered.
“Take me out on the dance