: Chapter 4

Brick continued to grumble as he followed me into the elevator of my building and then down and out of it toward the front exit. I didn’t catch each word he said, but it sounded as if he were complaining about a little bit of everything, from my embarrassment of a costume to my intolerable apartment and even his horrible mother for never paying me to work for her.

It warmed my heart to know he cared enough about me to be upset on my behalf. Made me think maybe I’d misjudged him all these years. Yes, he’d talked to me because I’d been around when we were kids, and he’d always been nice because he was just that kind of guy, warm and charismatic. But to realize he genuinely liked me on top of that made something heartfelt grow inside me. He was starting to feel like a true brother. The urge to give him a big, affectionate hug and maybe a sloppy, happy kiss on the cheek grew until I stepped outside and took in the orange Porsche at the curb.

And… My affection wilted as the envious bug nipped me right in the gut.

“Get a new car?” I guessed. “Again?”

That last new car I’d gotten had been when my dad had bought me one for my eighteenth birthday. I’d sold it a week after he died to pay for his funeral since Lana had insisted she was too upset to deal with such details. That had been back when I was sure I’d get more from my inheritance than I had. I hadn’t been able to buy another new one after that, just a twenty-year-old junker I still owed twenty payments on.

I had to wonder if Brick’s dad had left him a lot more when he’d died than my dad had left me, or if he just made that much at JFI. Either way, my stepbrother had definitely caught all the lucky breaks in life that had obviously passed right over me.

“Just ordered her last week.” Brick grinned over the hood at me as he rounded the car to the driver’s side. “She came in yesterday.”

“Hmm. I like it.” Opening my door when he unlocked it for me, I added, “Though it looks like a giant pumpkin.”

“A pumpkin?” he exploded, outraged, as I slid into the passenger seat next to him. “Do you know how much this baby cost?” Then he murmured, “It’s okay, Tabitha,” as he stroked the dash meaningfully. “She didn’t mean it.”

Tabitha?

I shook my head and moved past the fact that he’d named his car.

“Probably enough to afford a decent color, I expect.” When he furrowed his brows deeper, my grin grew. “Have you considered blue? I love blue cars.”

“I liked the orange,” he muttered petulantly, putting the beast into gear and nearly making my stomach heave into my spine when he jammed the gas. The cocky smirk he sent me as we burst down the street dared me to make fun of his ride now. “Still feel like knocking her, kid?”

I sniffed and shook my head but remained quiet, letting him have his prideful moment.

A second later, I realized he still called me kid. He’d called me that for as long as I’d known him.

His words from up in my apartment haunted me.

“Do you really think I’m immature?” I couldn’t help but ask, a little hurt by such a summation.

Brick crinkled his nose as he slowed to turn a corner. “Immature? No, but you’re definitely innocent for your age. You lack a certain refinement that would make you seem older. You’re like… Hell, I don’t know, an eager puppy ready to lick life right in the face.”

I blinked, soaking in the mental picture he drew. It didn’t sound that awful to me. “And that’s a bad thing?”

“No,” he murmured thoughtfully as he paused at a red light. “I enjoy it actually. It’s refreshing. I’m happy you haven’t gained that bitter edge that often comes with age and failed experiences.”

Hmm, now his description started to make me sound not-so-good. “So I’m naïve?” I asked, tilting my head to the side as I watched him, honestly wanting to know his opinion.

He pressed the gas as the light turned green. “You’re determined to focus on the good in things,” he stressed. Then he pointed out his side window. “There. Like that sign. That’s you.”

I looked up to see what he was talking about only to find the artwork of Black Crimson spray-painted on the side of a building.

The local graffiti artist everyone loved had struck again, it seemed. This time, Black Crimson had painted the picture of a salesman in a shoe store kneeling in front of a woman who was smiling a face-splitting grin as he attempted to put a cowboy boot on her foot, except her foot was too big for it, so he had to fold her foot in half to make it fit. The quote next to it read:

I smiled. “That’s a good one.”

“Yep. I’ll give it to Black Crimson; he is quite the philosopher.”

Glancing at him, I grinned. “Or she is.”

He sniffed and sent me a look before smirking. “I bet it’s a he.”

With a disbelieving laugh, I argued, “And I bet it’s a she.”

His eyebrows lifted. “What makes you so sure?”

“Well, she has good taste in quotes. She’s an incredible artist. And she always chooses older, cruddy-looking buildings to paint on, making them prettier, so she’s stylish. Honestly, with her kind of talent, brains, and compassion, how could she be a male?”

“On behalf of all men everywhere,” Brick said, glancing over to take in my challenging grin. He set a hand over his heart. “Ouch. That hurts.”

“Well, I suppose Black Crimson could be a man,” I allowed on a teasing grin before I winked and nudged him with my elbow. “One of those rare ones who actually has a brain in his head.”

Chuckling as he pulled into the parking lot of JFI, Brick shook his head. “The bet is on then, dear sister. I bet you twenty bucks Black Crimson is a man.”

“But what if we never find out who she is?”

His grin was pure male smugness. “Then I guess you get to keep the twenty dollars you just lost.”

I sniffed. “Yeah, right. Though honestly, she can’t keep evading police or reporters forever. Everyone is dying to know who she is. I have a feeling one day her identity will be revealed.”

Brick shrugged his disagreement as he slid from the car and started around to my side. “We’ll see.” Then he shuddered as he took in my costume one more time. “God, this is going to be one interesting night.”

Crooking his arm for me to take his elbow, he led me toward the entrance where a skanky pirate and sexy nurse were already pulling the front doors open to enter before us.

“So, should we track down Elton first and get you two flirting or see what kind of good eats Nash ended up catering in for us?”

I jarred to a halt, completely having forgotten about Brick’s plan to set me up with Christopher Elton. I hadn’t practiced in front of a mirror what I would say to him or even had the time to get sick to my stomach with nerves or anything.

Now that Brick had to go and mention his name, anxiety crashed down with a raining vengeance.

“Let’s see what they have to eat,” I suggested, turning coward.

My evil stepbrother merely laughed and tugged me into the building, saying, “Finding Christopher first, it is.”

“Oh Lord.” Did I have time to stop by the bathroom and throw up real quick? I didn’t feel so well, anymore. The last time I’d actually attempted to flirt with a guy had been… Oh man, it’d been so long ago I couldn’t even remember how long it’d been. Not cool.

Then a thought struck me.

“Hey, didn’t you say he was coming as Prince Charming?”

Brick nodded. “I did.”

My eyebrows drew together as I took in his costume. “Then why are you here as Prince Charming?”

He sighed. “Because your costume was supposed to match mine, and if you ended up spending most of the evening with him, then in turn, it should match his costume, too, don’t you think?”

I set my hand against my heart, stunned. “You mean, you wore Prince Charming for me?”

Making a disgruntled sound in his throat as if uncomfortable with my appreciation, he shrugged and readjusted his collar as he glanced around the room. “I was bored,” he finally answered.

You were being sweet and considerate, I wanted to argue. But he was already embarrassed enough, so I just grinned up at him. “Well, thank you.”

“Just remember.” Brick leaned in to murmur in my ear, “No one has a clue who you are. You can be as bold and crazy as you like, because it won’t count. It’s like the entire night is a great big freebie.”

I tipped my face to look up at him. He had a point. Most of my inhibitions came from fear, worrying about embarrassing myself. Behind my mask, that fear wasn’t so prominent.

Holy shit, I suddenly felt powerful.

“In that case, let’s go seduce Christopher,” I decided.

Instead of waiting for my stepbrother to escort me, I hurried ahead down the front foyer, dragging him along behind.

“Whoa, hey,” he muttered, tripping to keep up and then pulling me back to slow me down. “I don’t mind playing wingman, but the word seduction sounds so not right when coming from my little sister.”

I snorted. “Says the man who thought it was okay to talk about his own mother mounting a guy half her age and screwing him on a conference room table in front of everyone.”

Brick grinned as if he was still proud of that statement before he shrugged. “Yeah, well, Lana Judge isn’t exactly the motherly type so it’s easy not to feel related to her.”

Shaking my head over his odd deduction and yet flattered he considered me more family than his own mother, I held my breath as I neared the double doors that hung open to the main ballroom.

Here we went.

The room’s primary function was to hold fashion shows, but tonight, instead of a catwalk extending from the stage, a live band played a jazzy version of “Dragula.”

“Wow,” I murmured.

Nash—or rather his party planners—had gone all out to decorate. It was festive with fog machines smoking from cauldrons and skeletons and witches and ghosts splashed all around. Not a single person was out of costume, and most of them went to extravagant lengths to dress up.

Suddenly very glad Brick had talked me into attending, I stepped into the room to let the joyous atmosphere take over.

Dancing and laughing and eating sounded delightful.

“There’s Elton,” Brick murmured in my ear, taking hold of my arm. “Let’s head that way.”

“Where?” I started to glance around, looking for Christopher, but someone stepped in our path, heading in the opposite direction, just as we moved forward.

Brick and the other man almost bumped into each other before they both pulled up short, only for the two men to pause and scowl at the other’s costume.

“You knew this was a costume party, right?” Brick said dryly as he took in his brother’s tux. “Not the prom.”

Hayden scowled back. “I am in costume.” He rolled his shoulders inside his black jacket defensively before he straightened his bow tie. “I’m supposed to be Prince Charming.”

Brick snorted. “No. I’m Prince Charming.”

“Hmm.” Hayden scanned his brother’s costume before murmuring, “I like mine better.”

Then his gaze strayed to me. He blinked without saying a word as he studied my Power Ranger outfit. Since he had no idea who I was behind my mask, he merely gave me a respectful nod before stepping past us and heading toward the buffet.

Brick scowled after him. “My Prince Charming is so much better than his it’s not even funny. Mine’s traditional. His is just… Lame.”

I grinned because his mood was amusing. The brothers had always been somewhat competitive.

“Well, there sure are a lot of Prince Charmings here tonight,” I mused, trying to distract him.

Grinning, Brick leaned closer. “The more for you to choose from, my dear.” With a chuckle at his own joke, he straightened. “Now, where were we? Oh, right. Elton.” He placed his hands on my shoulders and twirled me around until we were facing a certain way. But as soon as I latched my gaze on Christopher—looking more like a general in a French war than Prince Charming—some man dressed as a priest approached him with a smile. Christopher smiled back and took the other guy’s hand before pulling him close and kissing him.

On the mouth.

“Oh,” I said, drawing to a stop. Oh, no.

Christopher Elton was already taken.