Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
“Oh, stop it.” Mr. Randolph swipes a hand in dismissal. “You know Mariam would not be pleased if you didn’t show up, but I won’t lie and say I’m not happy you’ll be there to deliver the check on the company’s behalf.” Her grandfather chuckles, dabbing at the corner of his mouth before picking up his coffee. “I can appreciate that others appreciate the arts, but I’m more of a contract-and-spreadsheets man myself.”
“Those two things aren’t even in the same category.” His sidekick grins.
“Exactly.” Mr. Randolph smirks at the man, but my mind is stuck on one word he threw in there, and when I move my eyes to Paige, I know she caught it too.
“Arts?” she asks curiously.
I take another drink of water to busy my hands, trying not to watch the two as closely as my eyes seem to want to. I celebrated too quickly.
Moment of good ends; moment of bad rushes in for the win.
My jaw clenches. I should get up and go, remove myself from this, but I can’t seem to make myself stand.
“The fundraiser is for my mother’s charity,” Prescott tells her proudly. “It’s a scholarship program for youth in the arts, and we’ll get to see several of the last recipients perform tonight.”
My gut grows heavy. It’s as if he plucked words directly from the Paige handbook.
Charity. Performance. Children.
That is the entire idea behind what she intends to make her life’s work, is it not?
A dance studio for the underprivileged, bringing the arts to youth centers and young survivors who need an outlet to focus on at little to no cost.
My palms start to sweat, so I swipe them on my pants.
I can see her intrigue, and a shadow of disappointment falls over me because, after all that, now Paige wants to go.
Fuck.
“So I realize now, I should have given you all the details right away,” Prescott begins, an easy smile on his annoying, handsome face. “But the fundraiser is actually on Sunday evening, not Saturday. It’s early and local to you, so I can have you back at your dorm before eight, sooner if you want to skip the entertainment, though it might be the best part of the evening. I just have to show up, deliver the check on behalf of R.L., and then technically, I’m free to do whatever you might like after that.”
And what the fuck might you like after that, my guy?
My gaze snaps to her grandfather. His employee is really just going to proposition her like that, in front of his boss? Her grandfather.
In front of me.
I’m sitting right here, and it doesn’t even matter.
He knows nothing of who I am, what we are to each other. For all he knows, she’s mine, something I would think would have crossed his mind when he spawned into our night like a fucking fairy-tale twist. Had this guy been three seconds later that night in San Jose, he’d have likely walked in to find my mouth on hers, but even though he didn’t, she was still in my arms. The implication had to have been clear that she wasn’t his to have.
And again today, when they found us on campus together. Couples do that—wait for each other and walk around side by side. He should have at least wondered, shouldn’t he have?
Annoyance has my brows furrowing because I realize the answer to my own questions instantly.
I am a nonconcern to him.
He doesn’t see me as an issue.
He sees me as nothing because I am of no threat to him. Why would I be? I’m but a kid in his eyes. My twenty-one years of age mean nothing to this man who is probably about a decade older, give or take a year or two.
I’m a college kid and he’s CEO or some shit at a billion-dollar company. He’s sophisticated and charming, and I’m exhausted and a living fucking stress case.
The waiter delivers the check, and my pulse pounds harder as Prescott casually pulls it close, blindly signing the receipt with his attention still focused on the blond between us. Because he doesn’t need to worry about the cost. He has his life figured out, and oh how seamlessly she would fit right in.
“You should come with me, Paige,” he reiterates. “I think you’ll love it.”
I know she will.
It’s time for me to go.
“Wait, what?”
My head yanks up, and I freeze when I find all three staring at me. Shit.
I clear my throat. Guess I was thinking a little too loudly.
I focus on her, taking in the small frown that’s formed on her face. “I forgot I have to run by the house before practice later, and I won’t have time after my next class.” Lie.
She’s already pushing her plate away, but I stand quickly, waving my phone around.
“Stay. I can call a car.”