Everyone who works at Colin’s headquarters, along with three hundred other people, are attending a cocktail reception in his honor tonight; my multiple excuses as to why I couldn’t attend were derailed each time by Molly. She’s persistent, I’ll give her that, and here I am, getting ready at her apartment for the reception.

“Look at these!” I say poking at my ample cleavage. “They’ll enter the party ten minutes before I do.” Cringing, I pull at the plunging neckline to draw the fabric over my breasts to no avail.

“You look fantastic, Charlie. Stop adjusting. It’s supposed to look like that.”

Turning from the mirror I accept my fate. I’m going, I’m going in this dress, and I’ll just have to figure out a way to get comfortable with it.

Colin has been in and out of the office for the last three weeks. Evan wasn’t lying when he said there was a change in plans from the original itinerary Colin reviewed with me when I agreed to work with him. I’ve been here for these past few weeks, learning more about him, his campaign and the people who work for him.

He's remained aloof, even tense with me since he cared for my injury. It’s almost a relief when he and Evan are traveling; thankfully they take Ms. Bitchy with them most of the time, which is a nice reprieve from her hostility.

Dragging me from my thoughts, Molly pipes in, “I'll never get another opportunity to attend an event like this. Never in my lifetime, Charlie.” She pleads again, desperately. “You have to go with me. I need your support.”

“I doubt that, Molly. You could have fun anywhere, with anyone.” I grab my clutch purse before slipping into the stiletto heels, also on loan. Her wardrobe looks more like a Nordstrom rack than a closet; I don’t think she’s ever worn a T-shirt in her life. Silk, satin and sexy are the details she looks for in clothing.

“Okay, I’m ready. Let’s get this over with.”

She catcall whistles at my final product. “You clean up nice, Charlie Carter. You’re going to steal all of the men away from me tonight, and I was hoping to meet my future husband.”

“I’ll be sure to kick some back to you when I’m through with them,” I tease, knowing very well she’ll have men groveling at her feet the minute we walk in. Molly is beautiful and has a personality that matches.

When we pull up in front of the venue, I’m surprised at the location. It’s not far from campaign headquarters in an industrial district of the city. The building looks like a warehouse, yet it’s been revitalized with large floor-to-ceiling windows. Inside, bright lights hold the night at bay and allow arriving guests a peek at the party before walking in. Metal and wood combine in the interior to create a distinct and surprisingly comfortable atmosphere.

As soon as we enter our coats are whisked away, replaced by champagne flutes. We’re directed into a large room with exposed beams and white walls holding old, blackened machine parts. The eclectic mix of materials creates an interesting and somehow modern décor. Lights, which burned a bright welcome in the lobby, are dimmed in the open party space.

"This was a factory at one time. The parts on the walls were taken from the old machinery and repurposed as artwork by the owner,” Molly answers my unasked question. “Senator McKenna is passionate about reusing materials and recycling, but I’m sure you already knew that.” She glances at me out of the corner of her eye. She's suspected something since Colin’s reaction to my hand injury a few weeks ago, and it’s taken the same amount of time to convince her nothing is going on between us. I thought I had talked some sense into her, but maybe I was wrong.

“Yes, I did. But only because I read about it in the reports at the office.”

“Mmhmm, sure.”

“Let it go, Molly. There's absolutely nothing between Colin and me,” I say for the one-millionth time, my heart constricting as I do. Damn heart. I need a new one; this one is defective. It keeps breaking into pieces each time I see him or hear his voice. I’m still reeling from the imprudent feelings my traitorous body insists upon. I can’t seem to forget his piercing eyes, and the butterflies merrily dancing in my stomach each time he’s near.

Molly insisted on our tardy arrival and now I can see it was a good idea. The room is overflowing with bodies, making our entrance unnoticed by most.

Colin is nowhere in sight. I hope to enjoy the night without the tension that encroaches when the two of us are in a room together.

Finishing off my first glass of champagne, I look around for a refill.

“Someone’s out to have a good time,” Evan says, eyeing my glass while reaching over to a tray upheld by a stunning blond for the refill I was hoping for. Winking at her, he cheerfully grabs a flute and swaps it out for my empty one. “Ladies, you look stunning.” His eyes roam over Molly’s assets and back to my eyes; for some reason I don’t garner the same casual perusal he bestowed upon my friend.

Evan looks dapper in a tailored dark-gray suit, a lavender shirt and tie the only hint at his cheeky personality. Molly's staring at him appreciatively, and for the first time I realize she has a crush; her eyes are bright and eager in her own examination of him. How could I have missed this?

“Enjoying the night so far?”

“We just walked in, actually,” Molly answers.

“Well the party just started then.” He winks again and I roll my eyes at his cheesy line.

A leggy brunette easily distracts his gaze. “Excuse me, ladies.”

“He’s just sex on legs,” Molly verbalizes exactly what I was thinking.

“So, you’re hoping to have a go at him?” My eyebrow lifts while I wait for her reply.

“It’s that obvious?”

“Not normally, but tonight you were practically undressing him with your eyes,” I can’t help but giggle at her horrified expression. “Have you ever . . .”

“Hell no, Charlie. I’ll stick to the dream of having him in my bed. I’m not setting myself up for the heartache sure to come along with a hook-up.”

I understand completely. “Who’s throwing this party for Colin?”

“Raquel Meyers.”

“Who is she?” I probe; it’s unusual for Molly not to offer up the information voluntarily.

She shrugs, trying to maintain a nonchalant attitude. “Some super-rich socialite who likes to spend her daddy’s money. Her family made a fortune in public storage and she’s made a career out of spending it.”

“It doesn’t sound as if you like her very much.”

“I don’t know her; I only know of her, and what I’ve heard is similar to all the other rich bitches who believe they’re better than everyone else.”

“And how does she know Colin?” She pauses and looks at me oddly. “What?”

“They were together for a while.”

“Oh.” She doesn’t go into more detail and I don’t ask, pretending to people-watch, but in reality I’m trying to work through the sudden onslaught of jealousy I so don’t want to feel.

After a moment, curiosity wins out. “So, are they back together?”

“Not that I know of. I heard Raquel wasn’t pleased when he broke it off with her last year and she’s been trying to get him back ever since, hence the over-the-top party to celebrate his candidacy.”

“Sounds a lot like Ella.”

“Maybe once you have him you can’t get him out of your system. Like an addiction.”

Hmm, sounds about right. I haven’t had him, but I can’t get him out of my system and that’s a problem.

“How about we head to the bar and get something a little stronger than this shit?” Molly tips her head back to finish her drink.

“Agree. Then let’s go find you a husband.” I can’t help but laugh at her enthusiastic expression.

~

There isn’t enough alcohol in the world to prepare me for this, Colin and Raquel Meyers. Her arm is draped across his back guiding him through the room, close to where Molly is bantering with a group of men. She’s an expert at flirtation and the four men surrounding her are lapping up every sound of her voice, every coy tilt of her head and every sexy flip of her hair. All of the traits I’m seriously lacking, and each of them I wish to possess right now.