Author's Notes…

Whoo, France!

Falling for the Enemy

Chapter Ten

The Second Party

"There may have been… something," Rey conceded reluctantly. She sat in front of her laptop, one leg tucked up with her on the bed. Her left hand held her mobile, and her right was catching up on the news. "But… it would have been—it was… tiny. Microscopic."

"Nothing is that tiny," Sitrine said. "Not with you two."

"You act as if you've seen us interact," Rey pointed out. "You haven't. All you have to go on is what I've told you."

"And?"

"And so you don't know!"

"What was it, at any rate?" Sitrine questioned.

Rey rested her chin on her knee and sighed audibly.

"See? Not that tiny," her friend murmured.

"It's not that. It's that I can't—place it… exactly. But something's changed since then."

"Since when?" Sitrine begged. "Throw me something! Anything! A sultry glance—a brush of hands!"

"Are you reading those Victorian romance novels again?" Rey lifted her head, eyebrows raised.

"No!" he said. "I mean—no, Rey, of course not. That is entirely feminine, and I am the picture of masculinity."

"So what was the plot?" Rey asked with the air of someone settling in for a long story.

"There was this duke!" he said fervently. "And this handmaiden, which was surprising, considering most of these stories focus on the nobles."

"Sitrine, focus."

"Right! And so…"

Rey was drained. Everything had to be perfect, and the practice runs were wearing on Ben's mind. He was too competitive—he was hard on himself, wanting to break some sort of personal record. He disappeared into the penthouse after the Friday practice rounds. Everyone thought that was for the best. Ben was even more foul when he was in a snit.

She managed to avoid him all day by staying off the track. If he came her way in the shop, snarling at the crew, she'd find someplace else to hide. The moment his tornado path was over, she was back at the task at hand. A few of the crew eyed her curiously and then knowingly, but she pretended she didn't notice. In all likelihood, they probably thought the two of them were fighting. It wasn't as though their heated disputes weren't legendary by now.

When she got back to her room that night, she had just enough time to shower and talk to Sitrine before she passed out. That conversation was fortunately short. Rey didn't have much to update him on, aside from Ben was doing well in the practice rounds.

Saturday was more practice rounds and the qualifiers. Rey was on the track, because she needed her own practice. Ben not only qualified, but he gained himself the closest starting position. Rey couldn't help but wonder what it might have been like if Poe had been there. Would the result have been the same? They were neck and neck so often…

There was a party planned for Saturday night, as the race began Sunday. Rey was half-considering staying put, catching up on much needed sleep. Then she thought of the dress she'd brought, the one she'd worn at the last party. She thought about how the rest of the crew was going. It was supposed to be an exciting night. Things were heating up, it was a busy day tomorrow.

Rey supposed she could show up, avoid Ben because he was likely to point out her use of the same wardrobe, and seek out her co-workers. They usually lingered by the bars at these functions, they'd told her gleefully hours earlier. Get together in their small poor corner and mock the wealthy—and, of course, pray for victory.

There had been plenty of murmurs the last few days of who Ben's major opponent would be, now that Dameron couldn't make the circuit in time. Many anticipated that Ben would take the cup and cash prize. If he didn't have to go neck and neck with Poe, who was there, really, to stop him?

Ben, for his part, seemed determined to ignore the rumors. Rey thought it was because he didn't want to get a big head—or "bigger head", in her opinion. He didn't text her again, either. Rey wasn't too sure what to make of that, except he likely didn't have the time. That was the idea that she was choosing to stick with, anyway. The other one was surprisingly too painful to contemplate.

Finished showering and blow-drying her hair, Rey grabbed the rest of her product.

A ding sounded from the bedroom.

Rey glanced that way, then down at the product in her hands. She finished with what she was doing enough to check her phone. It seemed she had given up on Ben too soon.

Solo: Are you going to the party tonight?

Me: Why?

It wasn't in her nature to give him an easy time, and she was suspicious.

There were several more dings, signifying Ben was texting her, but Rey ignored them to recommence getting ready. Since she'd done a crown braid last time, she opted for a different hairstyle tonight. It was an elegant bun piled atop her head, each strand of hair pulled straight into place. A lot of bobby pins and hairspray.

Rey ran concealer under her eyes to hide the bags.

Ding-ding.

Foundation: check. Eyeshadow: check. Eyeliner: check. Blush: check. Lipstick—

Ding-ding.

Rey knew all of those texts couldn't possibly be from Ben. It was either Sitrine or Poe, hopefully the former, and the thought left Rey feeling instant guilt. She really needed to cut him loose, but she would never be ready for it. Hurting Poe was so far from what she wanted.

Makeup complete, she grabbed her clutch and phone.

Solo: Why do you always question me?

Solo: Kenobi. This is important.

Solo: Hello.

Solo: Are you going to the party or not?

Solo: Rey.

Solo: REY.

Wow. She owed both Sitrine and Poe an apology.

Me: I was in the shower.

Solo: Was that what I think it was?

Me: It was in no way a come on.

Solo: Like that would be the most terrible thing ever.

Rey stopped to stare at her phone, and she had a very intense feeling that so had Ben.

Solo: Whatever, are you coming?

Me: Yes, I'll be there.

Solo: Find me when you get here.

Rey huffed.

Me: No.

Solo: As your friend, will you find me when you get here?

Me: Sure.

Rey tossed her phone into her clutch, settling her shawl around her elbows. It was made out of a thin gauze, which was fortunate, considering it was June, primetime summer. She'd added black tights and a different pair of heels, ones with four inches on them. She was asking for pain, she knew it, but Ben was so much taller than her, and maybe this would make him less intimidating.

She met Wayde and Dylan in the lobby. They whistled appreciatively. She blushed and waved them off. Together, they got into a cab and headed for the shindig.

Rey had forgotten an important factor: this was France. It was the height of fashion, and she looked like she'd gotten her gown from Wal-Mart in comparison. It took away the confidence she'd built for this party.

While she stood gaping, Wayde and Dylan met up with the others. They all headed toward the bar. A few looked expectantly at Rey for her to follow. She started to, stopped. She'd told Ben she would find him here. Damn. Suddenly, it was the last thing she wanted. He would look so glamorous, surrounded by equally glamorous women, and here she was wearing a gown to an event twice in a row. A gown of shame.

Damn it. She hadn't ever cared about these things before. What did it matter how she looked? She was here for herself. She had nothing to prove to anybody, not even Ben or his companions.

"Ugh, of course they let the help in," a stranger said snidely, walking up to her. He was American, for which Rey was grateful. Her French was broken.

Rey frowned at him. "Excuse me?"

"I said they let the help in, and it's pathetic." The man was balding, and the buttons on his suit were straining, doing their best not to burst. Was he a sponsor? She didn't recognize him as one of the drivers.

"It's really rude to assume I'm the help," Rey said. "You have no idea who I am. Who are you to pass judgment on me?"

Bald-y tsked and nodded to her nails, where grease was worn under the grooves.

The Way You Look Tonight started to play, catching Rey's attention, pulling it toward the dance floor. How interesting. Perhaps it was one of those situations where once you noticed something, it cropped up everywhere.

Ben crossed her line of vision. He was glowering. Why? Because she hadn't found him yet? Impatient arsehole.

Rey scowled at him and then at Bald-y. "Sir, I'll have you know—"

"Rey!" Ben inserted himself neatly between Bald-y and herself. He gripped her hand and bowed over it to kiss it. "How is my best mechanic?"

Rey couldn't breathe.

Had that just happened?

Had he just used a princely move on her?

"She's a genius with the cars," Ben was saying, "but I'm afraid I have to steal her before she gives away all of her secrets." He tucked Rey under his arm, looking down at her. "And you promised me a dance, remember?"

He herded her to the dancefloor, leaving a gaping arsehole behind. Ben's jaw was so tight, she thought he might have pulled a muscle. He kept glaring in the direction of Bald-y. Rey stood there awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what to do. If he really wanted to dance… She wasn't sure she was up to snuff. Her ballroom dancing skills were rusty and had happened when she was a kid.

"I didn't need you to rescue me," Rey said, drawing his attention to her. "But… I suppose I should thank you and apologize in advance for stepping on your feet."

It was a slow song, and she'd forgotten. Didn't remember until he pulled her into his arms, his hands respectfully at her waist and not an inch lower. She found her temple resting against his chest as they twirled slowly around the dancefloor. It should have been strange, but it was oddly soothing. Her eyes slipped shut.

"I will feel a glow just thinking of you, and the way you look tonight…"

Rey blinked slowly. Ben was singing? So softly, it was mostly unheard. It sounded really good, and she tilted her head up. She put her arms around his neck and smiled.

"Ben Solo, did you have them play this song for me?"

"Perhaps," he said, not meeting her eyes. His roved over the other occupants of the dancefloor. There weren't many. It was early in the night for dancing. "None of us would be driving without our crew. That man was a fucking idiot."

"What?"

A possessive anger was in his eyes, and it sent a zing down her spine. She had no idea what was happening anymore. He wanted her here at the party, he'd played this song to make her feel better about being homesick. He'd 'rescued her' from a blithering idiot, he was dancing with her, and he looked so angry that the exchange with Bald-y had happened at all.

Rey let out a nervous breath and decided to go for it.

"Ben?"

His eyes swung down to hers. "Yes?"

For a moment, she let herself get lost in those eyes. They were so brown, and under all this lighting, they were almost gold. He held her gaze without flinching, and warmth creeped through her stomach and tingled.

She found her courage once more.

"Might I buy you a drink?"