Lily Bless Michaela König. The makeup case containing the essentials for an emergency touch up was a godsend. Once I’m confident I no longer look like a raccoon, I st ep out of the bathroom. The sisterhood is out in full force, accompanied by their sexy men. As I take in the crowd present, I’m dizzy with emotions. I’m so elated, I feel the need to brace my arm against the pillar next to me, but I don’t have time for dramatics. There’s a full room of friends to greet. I bounce from one person to another. After too many hugs, kisses, and good wishes to count, I’m walking on sunshine. I’m so tickled pink, I don’t even worry that I’m walking around people pantieless. There are bigger fish to fry. Like dealing with the tall man staring at me with a smug smile on his face. I approach the culprit behind Operation Lily’s Secret Birthday Party. I swat his chest. “You had me fooled.” “How so?” “You promised me dinner. This isn’t dinner.” “Food will be served later.” “You know what I mean.” “You don’t like birthday parties?” “You’re incorrigible.” I shake my head. “You did this for me?” “You’re worth it, Lily.” With those sweet words, he claims a little bit more of my heart. “This room is amazing.” I change the subject before I melt in a puddle of lust. I turn around in a circle, taking it all in.
“The Tottenham Court is Larkin’s private entertainment room. It’s never up for grabs unless it’s for someone in his inner circle.” I turn around and face the owner of the hotel, clamp my hands in a prayer, and bow. He lifts his tumbler in response. Gage—or whomever decorated the room went all out. It’s over the top, but I love it. There’s a huge banner that reads Happy 21 st Birthday, Lily covering a wall—the design sparkles with rose gold, yellow gold, and diamond touches. There’s a parade of helium filled rose gold and happy birthday confetti balloons hanging from the ceiling, a table weighed down with wrapped boxes, and flowers. So many beautiful flowers— Wait a minute. I’ve been so overwhelmed since I set foot in this room, it’s only now I spot the type of flowers decorating the space. “Those flowers are Yves Piaget roses.” He nods. “They are.” I frown. “They’re my favorite flower.” “So I’ve heard.” My frown de epens. “Who told you?” “They’re stunning flowers. I can see why they’re your favorites,” he says. “The large headed rose is unique. It could pass as a peony, but it would be a mistake to compare the two flowers. The rose has an incredibly strong fragrance—which I can attest to—and the vibrant raspberry pink petals stand out.” My eyebrows lift to my hairline. “How did you know I preferred Yves Piaget roses and how do you know so much about the flower?” “A woman I know gave me a basic 101 course.” Is the woman he’s referring to, Enid? She’s becoming a thorn in my side. I hate to admit, though, she was spot on. I’m about to drill him with more questions when he lifts a finger. He pulls out his phone and sends off a quick text. “Speaking of which, I invited Enid to your party.” He invited the woman he ditched me for last night to my party? Why? I don’t even know her. “Is Enid a friend?” “Let me go get her.” What kind of answer is that? He turns to the DJ and does the universal throat slashing sign to cut off the music. Why is he making such a fuss over Enid? And why the hell do we have to kill the music on her account? That was a great song. Gage parts the crowd of friends on his way to the door. I stretch my neck. Even in my high heels, I have to stand on my tippytoes and move my head left to right to see what’s going on. A familiar brunette sporting a slick side-parted nape bob st eps into the room. I gasp, my hands flying to my face to cover my mouth. I blink a few times to make sure my mind isn’t playing tricks on me. My best friend runs towards me. It’s not a mirage. I shake out of my stupor and run towards her. We jump into each other’s arm, both of us crying. We sway side to side, hugging the hell out of each other. I pull away from her. “Nads, what are you doing here?” Tears stream down my face. As if she was my personal assistant for the day, Mikki hands us tissues. “Thank you.” “What are friends for?” Her r eply touches my heart. I blow her kisses. She blows them back. Nadine and I wipe away our tears, giggling like silly girls. I’m not sure why I bothered going to the bathroom to fix my face. My mascara is running again. “Nadine Whelan, are you going to put me out of my misery and tell me what the hell you’re doing here?” “I was told someone was celebrating being twenty-one again.” She winks. “I had to be here.”
“Yeee!” I squeal and take her in my arms for another round of hugs. I let her go. She gives me a onceover. “That dress is stunning on you.” I give her a twirl. “It’s so Hollywood,” she says. “I know, right? You look fabulous, as always.” “With my demure dress, I don’t fit into the LA fashion scene.” “Nonsense.” Nadine is wearing a form fitted mid-length sleeveless navy-blue dress that hits her below the knee. A delicate pattern of clusters of white flowers spots the fabric. It has a seductive V that shows off the girls nicely. Her red Mary Jane patent shoes with chunky heels have a vintage flair to them. My eyes land on her chest, a warm smile stretching my lips. “And you’re wearing the perfect accessory.” She caresses the medallion hanging around her neck I gave her for her birthday, a r eplica of mine. I mimic her move, touching the one I’m wearing. “I had to wear the necklace,” she says. “First, you know how much I love, love, love it. Second, I was hoping someone from QVC might spot me and want to know the artist, so you could become famous.” This woman is the best friend a girl could ever hope for. “Silly girl, QVC’s headquarters are in Pennsylvania. Not LA.” “My bad.” She smiles. “Speaking of things your father disapproves of... have you given any thought to what we talked about yesterday?” “Yes,” I say. “I’m going to put my big girl panties on—” She shrieks. “Shhh.” I place a finger against my lips. “Sorry.” She cringes. “So, you’re moving here?” I nod. “When?” “The plan is for me to return to New York and set the wheels in motion. Fisher Edgington hates people who are all talk. Once I get my ducks in a row, I’ll present my master plan as a fait accompli. Cue an evil laugh.” And she does. I join in. “It will all be under the pretense of gaining experience to better support Chandler’s political career,” I say. She considers me for a beat, nodding. “What?” “This trip allowed you to find your lady balls. I like it. I like it a lot.” It’s my turn to take in her words. “The trip I was dreading, turned out to be the trip of a lifetime.” “Amen to that.” Nads lifts her arms over her head. There are so many unexpected things about this evening, I can’t ke ep up. The shock of seeing my bestie is another item on the long list. “How did you get here?” “Airplane. Duh.” I roll my eyes. “You know what I mean.” “Gage took care of everything.” “I’m shocked he’d go to that length.” “He was willing to move mountains to make tonight happen, Lily.” Wow. She leans into me. “In his world, nothing is impossible.” I open my arms in an attempt to encompass this room and all the amazing people in it. “I get a sense of that now.” “Between us girls, Mr. Hollingsworth is the paragon of masculinity. Quel mec.” “What a man, indeed—” I laugh. “What’s so funny?” “The playlist in my head landed on Salt-N-P epa’s Whatta Man. “Good one.” She laughs. “Gage fits the bill. He’s the perfect Adonis.” She fans herself. “He’s this big, testosterone-laden hunk. Confident and in command. And he’s not bad on the eyes.” That’s the understatement of the century. “He’s freaking gorgeous.” I shift my attention to said gorgeous, testosterone-laden, perfect Adonis god. He winks. Be still my beating heart. “Sexy gods hang out with other sexy gods,” Nads says. “Any single guys in his inner circle?”
I scan the room. “There’s Larkin.” “The owner of this amazing hotel––where I’m staying, by the way––is dangerously hot, but he scares me.” “Yeah, he’s intense.” “Too intense,” she says. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to ke ep up.” “Michaela”––I point to her––“is certain there isn’t a woman alive capable of handling Larkin.” Nadine nods. I ke ep searching the room. “What about him?” I point to Collin Dennison, leaning at the bar, in volved in an animated conversation with Dominika and Rod who are sitting on stools. “Oh, God, that man is also hot, but he comes with the same force as a Euro speed train.” I laugh. “His brother Shane on the other hand... I’d leave my life in Paris behind for that fine piece of man candy.” She leans in closer. “I’d even be willing to let him pop my cherry.” I stare up at her. “I doubt you’d regret it.” “A man like that would justify holding out for the right one...” Both her mom and mine lost their virginity to married men and ended up pregnant and alone. The way we came into this world shaped us, which is why we held on tight to our V cards much longer than most girls we know. I nudge her. “Are you going to go after him?” “No. I’d never have the courage to approach him.” “That can be arranged––” “I’m here for you. Not to get entangled with a hot guy. You know me... chicks before dicks.” With that, she sets the tone to one of our favorite games. I pick up the baton. “Queens over peens.” “Sisters over misters.” “Breasties before testes.” I ke ep the game going. “Dames before dudes.” “Brains before bros.” We laugh. “Men come and go, the sisterhood is forever,” I say. Nadine’s eyes bounce around the room. “And now the sisterhood has extended to more than the two of us.” My heart swells at the mention of all the wonderful new friends I’ve made since arriving in LA. “It has.” “That’s why when Gage concocted this last-minute birthday party idea and enlisted my help, I was on board.” Gage Hollingsworth is a brooding giant of a man with an enormous heart. “I was dying to see you again and I wanted to meet the sisterhood. When he offered to fly me to LA on a private jet—nice touch, by the way—I couldn’t refuse. I’m a sucker for VIP treatment. Even though my father is a former president of France, I’ve never experienced such luxury before. One of the downsides of being la bâtarde is that your father always travels with his legitimate kids and his wife. Never with his bastard daughter and her mother. Thanks to Gage, I was able to cross an item off my bucket list.” My eyes find Gage’s. He shrugs. He knows we’re talking about him. His sixth sense is freaky. “I’m taken aback everyone knew, exc ept for me.” “That’s the whole point of a surprise birthday party.” Nads winks. “When did you get here?” “Yesterday afternoon while you were having a picnic with your man.” What? “So, yesterday, when I thought you were calling me from Paris, you were here in LA?” “In my defense, you didn’t ask me where I was. So, I wasn’t lying.” I narrow my eyes at her. “Lying by omission is still lying.” “And I’d do it again in a heartbeat if it meant seeing you this happy.” I blush. “You’re beaming, Lily.” “You mean, my face is the color of a tomato?” She rolls her eyes. “You’re glowing. Own it.” “Okay, you’re right. I haven’t had a drink yet, but I’m drunk with happiness—” Realization hits me. “Are you Enid?” A huge smile spreads her lips. “It’s my code name. Enid is Nadine spelled backwards, minus the first two letters of my name. Gage didn’t want to spoil the surprise. This”—she swirls a finger in the air—“was well orchestrated, down to the minute details. Same for your full day limo tour of celebrity homes and
other Hollywood iconic attractions today.” The tour was a distraction? “It wasn’t by chance the driver dropped you off on Rodeo Drive.” Her eyes lower to my new gold strappy heels for a beat. “After all, you can’t resist a shoe sale. Gage was made aware of all of your weaknesses.” Sneaky best friend. “I also told Gage about the songs on your playlist and favorite cake.” Nadine ke eps dropping bombs on me. “And I guided him in the right direction for the flowers, so he stayed away from your no-no list. No lilies. Ever. And carnations are a copout.” God, I’d die for this woman. My father never bothered finding out which were my favorite flowers. He’d have one of his mignons send me flowers—ninety-nine percent of the time, they were lilies—accompanied by a birthday card with the same one-liner. Love you, Lily. Dad. The distinctively female penmanship was a dead giveaway. It’s always a blessing to receive gifts, but my father’s gifts were never from him. As for the ‘love you’ part, that’s a big fat joke. “Gage suggested I fly in with flowers that would put a huge smile on your face.” She shrugs. “So, I did.” I knit my eyebrows together. “The flowers are all from Paris?” She nods. “It took me a few days of hustling before I was able to get them from the right vendors, but I managed. Let me tell you, a private jet is quite practical when you’re not traveling light.” “Unbelievable.” I’m amazed by the care and attention Gage put into planning this party. “Gage wanted to make up for me having to close the shop for a few days.” “Wow––” I frown. “I’m leaving tomorrow for New York. Are you going to stay in LA? That would suck if we were in the same country, but on opposite coasts.” She shakes her head. “Gage is flying me out to New York tomorrow night. We won’t be on the same flight, but I’ll arrive in New York an hour after you. I can only stay a couple of days, but we get to spend some time together.” I’m flabbergasted. “He did all this for me?” She reaches out and rubs up and down my arm. “He wanted to make up for Fisher being a jerk. My words. Not his.” I laugh. “Here I thought Enid was...” I shake my head. She elbows me. “You thought Enid was a random chick after your man?” The DJ kicked off the music again, but I don’t want my voice to carry. So, I switch to French. “Mais ca va pas la tête? C’est pas mon mec. On n’est pas ensemble.” Translation: You’re crazy. He’s not my man. We’re not boyfriend and girlfriend. Nadine stares at me like I’ve lost my marbles. “T’es aveugle, ma vieille. De part ses actions, il démontre ses sentiments à ton égard. Tu es sa copine. Je n’en ai aucun doute.” Translation: You’re blind, dear friend. Actions speak louder than labels. You’re his girlfriend. I don’t doubt it for a second. Her eyes shift in Gage’s direction before fixing onto mine. “Your father spent years hiding you. He’s still not forthcoming about who you are. Case in point.” She places her hands on her face, cupping her mouth. “Your Adonis didn’t even know you existed because Fisher never spoke about you.” She holds my gaze. “The demigod who punched your V card is flaunting you around like the prized beauty you are.”
Like the beating wings of a majestic white swan, hope blooms in my chest.