Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
“Okay,” I replied.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked, genuine concern in his eyes.
I nodded. “Yes. It’s not as scary as I thought it would be.”
His gaze fell to my lips before he turned his attention back to where we were going. “When you’re with me, you never have reason to fear, Fawn,” he told me.
The table we came to was the closest one to the stage and smaller than the others. The chairs here stood out too. They were more lush than the other tables’ chairs. It was as if they’d prepared a table for the king and the rest was for those lucky enough to attend his ball.
Garrett pulled out a chair for me, and I sat down as he pushed it back toward the table. He took the seat beside me. Trying to remember all the etiquette I’d picked up over the years from working at fancy restaurants, I reached for my napkin and placed it in my lap. Garrett’s hand, however, bunched the napkin up as he rested his palm on my thigh when I crossed my legs.
Biting back a smile, I lifted my gaze from my lap to look at the rest of the people at the table. Then, my eyes locked on the woman sitting almost across from me—the same woman from the night Garrett had fired me from the Winchester Parlor. Lydia. The one who had asked questions that made my temper snap.
Why was she here? When I’d asked about her, Garrett had said she was someone he dated occasionally. He hadn’t warned me she would be in attendance.
As if reading my thoughts, Garrett gripped my thigh with a gentle pressure. The woman’s gaze flashed hate, mixed with disgust. I quickly looked away from her, needing a moment to digest this. The familiar face of Zion Oscar, a casino owner and a regular in the Winchester Parlor, eased me some.
He tilted his head in my direction and held up his drink. “It’s nice to see you here, Fawn. You look stunning.”
Garrett’s hand flexed, squeezing my leg.
“Thank you, Mr. Oscar,” I replied.
“Please, it’s Zion,” he told me.
I blushed from his appreciative gleam and nodded. He didn’t mention the club or the fact that Garrett had brought one of the servers with him as his date. I was grateful, but then I doubted anyone who recognized me would say anything, for fear of Garrett’s reaction.
“Ah, I thought I knew the beauty on Garrett’s arm,” Gunther Ford’s deep voice boomed as he and an attractive woman took their seats to the right of Lydia.
“Audrey, dear,” he said to the woman, “this is Fawn Parker. Fawn, this is my wife, Audrey.”
She seemed nicer than the other women I’d met tonight. Although her smile told me she knew I was a server.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Fawn,” she said as she sat down.
The rock on her hand caught the light and twinkled. I was almost positive Leo had said Gunther Ford owned a large horse racing ranch, almost as big as Garrett’s.
“You too,” I replied.
I did not know the man on the other side of Lydia. He hadn’t spoken, and Garrett hadn’t acknowledged him. Neither had he acknowledged Lydia. The awkwardness of that fact wasn’t going unnoticed by the others at the table.
“You’ve done an excellent job once again, Lydia,” Audrey said, smiling warmly at the woman.
My gaze flickered to Lydia.
She seemed pleased as she looked across the table at Garrett. “Thank you, but as always, I couldn’t have done any of this without Garrett.”
The way she said his name made me tense. The familiarity and affection in her tone caused my stomach to feel funny. She was the friend of his who had organized this function. Why hadn’t he told me that? Had he left out that detail for a reason?
“Everything Garrett touches turns to gold,” Gunther Ford said jovially. “Unfortunately for me, that includes thoroughbreds.”
The other men chuckled at the table.
“As long as a Hughes horse is in the race, you’re fucked, Gunther,” Zion informed him before taking another drink.
A woman appeared at the empty seat beside him at that moment, and he immediately stood up and pulled out the chair for her.
“Greta, you know everyone,” Zion said to the striking brunette. Then, he turned to me. “Oh, yes, you haven’t met the beauty on Garrett’s arm tonight,” he said. “Fawn, this is Greta. Greta, Fawn.” His hand did a slight wave between us with his basic introduction.
She wasn’t wearing a ring on her left hand, and Zion didn’t appear to want to elaborate on who she was other than his date.
The men began to talk about the Kentucky Derby coming up next week, and I felt Lydia’s gaze on me more than once. Garrett hadn’t spoken to her or even looked her way. His hand left my leg when the first course was served. Feeling as if everyone was watching me, waiting for me to mess up or embarrass myself, I lost my appetite.