Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 16728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 84(@200wpm)___ 67(@250wpm)___ 56(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 84(@200wpm)___ 67(@250wpm)___ 56(@300wpm)
“Darling, you need something that screams ‘Come and get me!’” Skye declares, moving to the nearest rack. “Come on, let’s find you the perfect dress.”
As she starts rifling through the options, I let myself relax in the vibrant atmosphere. Skye’s energy is contagious, always making it easy to forget the stresses of running my gallery, dealing with small-town whispers, or just trying to navigate everyday life.
“Ah-ha! I think I found it.” She pulls out a slinky, black dress that shimmers under the store lights. “This is it. Trust me.”
I raise an eyebrow, smirking. “Then I definitely want to try it. I want to wow this weekend.”
“Eve, you could wear a garbage bag and walk down a runway, you’re so freaking gorgeous.” She laughs and leads me to the dressing rooms in the back of the store. “Try it on.”
As I slip it on, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The dress hugs my curves in all the right places, highlighting my figure in a way that feels both empowering and thrilling. I turn, checking the fit from all angles, and I can’t help but grin. Damn, I look good.
“Skye!” I call out, stepping out of the fitting room to reveal the dress. “What do you think?”
She gasps audibly, eyes practically bulging. “Holy hell! You look like a bombshell! You’ll stop traffic in that.”
“Exactly what I was aiming for.” I smile as a thrill courses through me. “I’ll take it.”
“Oh, I have the perfect pair of earrings that will match your vibe. And don’t even get me started on shoes.” She bounces over to a different display, her energy infectious.
As we continue to experiment, I find myself wrapped up in laughter and excitement.
Once I'm fully decked out, I step in front of the mirror again, taking in the whole picture. I don’t just look good; I feel it, radiating from the inside out.
Skye claps her hands and twirls around, giddy. “You are going to own that auction, Eve! Let me get those earrings for you.”
“Thanks, Skye. For everything.”
I smile back at my reflection, but I know, deep down, I’m more eager now than I’ve been in ages.
Chapter 3
Eric
The moment I pull into the parking lot of The Sterling Rope, a knot of anxiety forms in my gut. I glance in the rearview mirror, running a hand through my cropped hair, trying to shake off the irritation I’ve been feeling all day.
I’m wearing my go-to dark gray polo shirt and black dress pants, a look that says I’m just trying to blend in and not draw any attention to myself.
As I step inside, the atmosphere thickens with excitement and energy. I scan the room, spotting Roman at the bar, already nursing a drink like he’s preparing for battle. “I’m glad you could make it,” he calls, waving me over. His trademark grin makes me want to roll my eyes.
“I told you I’d be here,” I reply, trying to sound casual, but I know I’m on thin ice just being here. If anyone recognizes me, my nice, anonymous life will be over.
“Did you forget this is a black-tie event?” he asks, a hint of irritation sparking in his eyes.
I shoot him a deadpan look. “I don’t own one,” I grunt, as if asserting my boundaries will keep him in check. We both know I’m lying. Over the years, I’ve owned several tuxedos given to me by hopeful designers. When I moved here, I left them all in my penthouse closet. “And I wasn’t getting one for this event.”
“Whatever floats your boat.” He smirks, clearly not buying my excuse.
As we climb the stairs leading to the stage, the crowd’s chatter quiets, and I’m immediately hit by the brilliance of the spotlights. Blinded, I squint, trying to mask the unease washing over me. Stepping into the spotlight feels too much like stepping onto a movie set. Fucking hell.
“Ladies!” Roman’s voice booms, drowning out my thoughts. “Our next victim, uh…” he playfully corrects himself, “bachelor is new to town, so he didn’t get the memo on our dress code. Please welcome, Eric Cobalt.” It’s been a long time since anyone has called me by my real name. In fact, I don’t remember the last time I heard it muttered out loud.
Fuck. I’m ready to get this over with so I can get back to my quiet, uncomplicated life. Before I can draw a deep breath, Roman goes on, “And let me tell you, Eric has chosen an incredible date for the lucky winning bid—an entire weekend on a private yacht!”
What the fuck? Just his words send a shockwave through me, practically knocking me off my feet. A weekend on a yacht? I agreed to one date, which meant dinner and a movie. I should have my head examined for letting Roman pick the date!