Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
I was more than a little worried that it was to the point where I was going to miss it when it was gone. When he was gone. And he would be gone. As soon as he figured out who was out to get me.
I probably should have been trying to distance myself, spending more time alone, things that would make his sudden disappearance easier to learn to live with.
Was that what I did, though?
No, no it was not.
“Will you go with me?” I asked, trying to inject as much confidence in my voice as possible, even though it was the most nervous I’d felt in ages. Which was absurd. I did multi-million dollar business deals. I stood up and spoke in front of some of the brightest minds in the world. And never, in any of those situations, did my belly wobble like it was wobbling in my own dining room, sitting across from a man I liked more than was healthy.
“Yes, of course,” he said immediately, sparing me any further torment. “I’d be happy to take you,” he added, somehow wiping away the lingering worries that he was doing it because he was obligated, because he didn’t want me to get attacked again. Because he didn’t say he would go with me. He said he would take me. There was a distinct, monumental difference between those words. “And before you ask, yes, I have the appropriate attire,” he told me. “It’s the Falkes Benefit, right?” he asked.
“How do you know that?” I asked, unable to stop my lips from parting in surprise.
“I’ve attended a few benefits in my time,” he said, shrugging it off.
But this wasn’t something you shrugged off. The Falkes Benefit was invite-only. And those invites tended to only go out to the very elite. It had been one of those moments when I’d truly felt like I’d “made it” when I’d gotten my invitation with its thick linen paper with its understated art nouveau style flowers… and my name printed there.
“Have you attended this one?” I asked, trying for casual, but I felt like my tone was a bit too curious, so played it down by opening up my food and poking around with my fork.
“Not in years,” he said, making my gaze shoot up to find him smirking at me, knowing how curious I was, but making me beg for the information.
“When did you go?” I asked.
“About six years ago,” he told me, giving me nothing else.
“You’re being deliberately difficult.”
“Only because it clearly drives you up a wall,” he shot back, making a laugh escape me as I reached for my wine.
“Were you there with a client?”
“An ex-client,” he told me.
“Another in a long line of conquests?” I asked.
“I’d prefer not to think of women as conquests. But, yes, it was someone I’d been casually seeing.”
“There’s nothing casual about the Falkes Benefit.”
“No. But this certain woman wanted to wave her younger date in the face of her older husband she’d just recently divorced.”
“Did he cheat on her?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then, I guess I can’t fault her for being petty. Did you enjoy the event?”
“For all the exclusivity, I’d had better food at smaller events.”
“That’s exactly what I said after the first time I went!” I said, throwing up a hand because no one else had ever said anything negative about it before. “What is it about ‘exclusive’ events that means the food has to have no flavor and not enough calories to feed an infant? I had to stop for fast food on the way home. In a gown. Because whoever thought one slice of meat and a piece of carrot draped over a single spear of asparagus would be filling was clearly out of their damn mind.”
“So that’s the plan then.”
“What’s the plan?”
“We hit up the benefit. Let you toss some money around. Choke down the disgusting food. Then you and me, we hit up something actually filling on the way home.”
“That sounds perfect,” I agreed as alarm bells went off in my head about how much I liked his use of the word ‘home’ there.
“Do you have a gown already?” he asked. “Or do we need to squeeze a shopping trip in today?”
“I don’t have one that I haven’t worn already,” I admitted. “But I might just have Cam pick me out some options. He has a better eye for evening wear than I do,” I said, reaching for my phone.
“What?” Brock asked when I smiled down at my phone a moment later.
“Cam. He was already at the store, snapping pictures of options.”
“Have you ever taken him?”
“The year before last. While he loved the venue and the drinks, he was miserable. Cam likes aspects of wealth, like the nice shoes and the good champagne, but he has no use for a lot of the stuffiness.”