Zeke waited, certain he was about to witness a show.
Sure enough, the white sedan started up.
Ten seconds later, it crept cautiously around Celestine, as if terrified that even a speck of dust from its tires might brush her coat.
Zeke’s grin froze on his face.
What the hell is Bob doing?!
The Lincoln, finally freed from the blockade, pulled up beside Celestine and whisked her away from the narrow street.
As it passed Zeke’s car, the driver honked–a sharp, unmistakably taunting blast–before speeding off down the road.
In that moment, Zeke felt like someone had grabbed his face and rubbed it straight into the pavement.
“Unbelievable!”
Lance, unsurprised, let out a mocking laugh. “What a waste of time. We could’ve been at the theater by now if you hadn’t insisted on dragging us along for this little spectacle.”
The only reason Joanna had bothered to come at all was not to dampen Zeke’s
enthusiasm.
He’d always known Zeke was dumb, but this was a new level of stupidity.
Expressionless, he watched the departing van. One of the windows was half–open, and he caught a glimpse of Mirabelle inside, still wrapped in her white winter coat.
Just as he’d predicted.
That made things simpler.
‘t running your Zeke, seeing Lance’s smug look, boiled over. “Lance, would you mouth? The only thing you’re good for is designing those tacky clothes everyone’s already sick of–what else have you ever done for Joanna?!”
Lance crossed his legs, eyelids half–lowered, and drawled, “Just wait and see. And do try to hurry up, Driver Sterling. If you make Joanna late again, your record of incompetence will only grow longer.”
19:49 1
Zeke’s mouth worked, ready to hurl another insult.
“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” Joanna cut in, feigning disappointment. “I know you both mean well. Zeke, since they’ve already left, let’s just go.”
Zeke really was useless.
Last time, he failed to humiliate Mirabelle. Now he couldn’t even handle something this simple.
Thank God she’d never agreed to date him.
With a scowl, Zeke finally started the car.
Inside the van, laughter filled the air.
“Celly, you’re incredible! You actually got that jerk to move his car so fast,” Mirabelle marveled.
Denton added, “Miss Selwyn, you always find a way. Brilliant as ever.”
Celestine, for her part, was baffled. She hadn’t even done anything–she’d barely settled down before the car took off, as if she’d scared it away just by lying there.
No matter how she tried to explain, everyone just accused her of being modest.
Meanwhile, Bob was speeding away, foot pressed hard on the gas pedal.
Just seeing Celestine’s face brought back memories of the beating he’d taken.
The guys who’d roughed him and Jake up never showed at the same place or time, but they never missed a month. They’d appear out of nowhere just to deliver another round of bruises.
Neither of them dared cross Celestine again.
That woman was like death incarnate.
And now she’d actually lain down in front of his car–wasn’t that just begging to get
him killed?
Shuddering, Bob decided he’d been lucky to escape as quickly as he did.
Zeke called, tearing into him. “Useless! Can’t handle the simplest task. Screw up again and you’re finished!”
Fuming, Zeke slammed his phone down.
By now, Lance was already escorting Joanna out of the car, ready to walk her into the venue.
Excited fans crowded the theater entrance, their cheers echoing across the plaza.
Reporters hunted for a scoop, swarming the pair before the red carpet ceremony officially began.
Lance stayed at Joanna’s side, the picture of a gentleman.
While most of the microphones were pointed at Joanna, one reporter turned to Lance. “Mr. Blake, we’ve noticed you’ve been posting some beautiful gowns inspired by Joanna. After so many years away from the spotlight, is your comeback for her?”
Chapter
