Total pages in book: 225
Estimated words: 218500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1093(@200wpm)___ 874(@250wpm)___ 728(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 218500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1093(@200wpm)___ 874(@250wpm)___ 728(@300wpm)
The guy in the red shirt looks at Jeff with concern. “Thanks, but I’m more interested in one-on-one.” His eyes ping back to me. “Can I buy you a drink instead? Chat by the bar? I won’t keep you from your special night with your friends for long.”
I give him what I hope is a non-bitchy but also non-flirty smile. “Thanks anyway, but I’d prefer to spend the evening celebrating with my friends. Thanks, anyway.” I then add, “And… I’m engaged, so…”
The guy’s eyes rove over my empty left hand. I see the diamond on my ring practically wink at me from Alannah’s hand.
Now Coraline’s eyes are on Alannah’s hand, too.
Shit. She’s gonna ask questions. No, more like she’s going to stare at us until we spill. Cor’s superpower is that she can often make you spill your secrets with one of her long stares.
A guy dressed in a suit with the vibe of a secret service agent and the build of a side-by-side refrigerator is suddenly in our little huddle and clapping his hand on the red-shirted guy’s shoulder with a serious expression.
He states, “That’s it, pal. Already warned you. You’re officially barred from Downtown, effective now.”
The guy in the red shirt looks thrown. “Huh?”
“You heard me,” the guy in the suit advises aggressively, like he’s looking for a reason to throw this dude on the floor, step on his back, then handcuff him.
“You’re mixing me up with someone else, man,” Red-shirted guy defends. “You and I have never had a conversation.”
“When a woman doesn’t welcome your advances, you back off, sir. Anywhere and everywhere, but especially here because this place is under my watch.”
“You’ve got me mixed up with someone else,” Red Shirt asserts. “I just got here, I’m on my first drink, and I haven’t approached any other women tonight. Miss, was I bothering you?”
He looks at me for help. But before I’m able to answer, the security guy clips aggressively, “Ah, so you’ve got a twin? A twin who’s here tonight?”
“No.” The guy looks like he’s about to piss his pants.
“You’re outta here. Don’t make me get physical, pal.”
“This is bullshit,” Red Shirt retorts, looking toward me again. “Right? I’m not bothering you, am I?” He looks back at the guy in the suit. “Man, call a manager over here. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“He’s not-” I start, about to say he’s not bothering me, but the security guy already has the red shirt-wearing guy in a hold where his right arm is bent unnaturally behind his back as he grips the guy’s other bicep and moves him away from us.
“A manager? You’re outta here, Karen.”
“Somebody call for a manager?” A man’s voice sounds from behind me.
Most people nearby are no longer dancing, instead they’re staring.
“I’m the owner,” the voice adds. “If you’re bothering other guests, you’re no longer our welcome guest.”
“I wasn’t,” Red Shirt calls over his shoulder as the security guy continues to march him toward the door.
The owner turns his back on the red-shirted guy and looks directly at me. And I’m awestruck as his dark eyes slowly coast over my body from eyes to toes, then back up to my eyes again. It’s like it happens in slow motion.
This guy is one of those head-turners. Heads turn everywhere he goes, I’m sure of it. My body tingles as my spine straightens.
He’s tall, built, somewhere in his thirties, dressed in an impeccable suit with a navy-blue shirt. His inky-dark hair looks soft, tousled in that stylish way that screams rich guy who doesn’t give a shit if he needs a haircut. His lips are full. His jawline is chiseled. He looks like he belongs either on a soap opera or a red carpet with a supermodel in a designer dress as arm candy. He’s a walking, talking thirst trap.
“Sweet baby Jesus,” Coraline says from behind me. “Five movie star hotties had an orgy thirty-odd years ago and made a pretty baby.”
“I’m sorry about that,” the club owner says to me, and I suspect he had to have heard Coraline, but he doesn’t visibly react. “We endeavor to ensure guests feel safe here at Downtown and all our establishments. I regret that you were harassed.” His hand is pressed to his chest with what looks like sincerity as he stares straight into my eyes.
“I…” I swallow and shake my head. “Actually, he just asked me to dance. Nothing bad happened. If he had plans to harass me, he didn’t have time because your security was here quickly.”
The man’s eyes are on my mouth as I speak. And it’s making my face burn hot.
He hands me a business card. “Glad to hear Shep’s doing his job. I’m Derek Steele.”
I look at the card in my hand, not seeing anything on it because my eyes are bouncing quickly up to meet his again.