Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
It’s annoying that he’s walking through my section. He doesn’t have to. He could have curved around the side of the club or, I don’t know, bodysurfed over the crowd like the god he is.
“Do you like the frozen sangría?” one of the girls asks as she notices another server walk by with a pitcher of the frothy pink cocktail.
“Love it. A little sweet, a little tart.”
I don’t actually know if it’s good. I’ve never had it, but Cristiano is getting closer and I want to hurry and get this order done so I can scurry off to the computers.
“Or wait—” The girl turns to her friends. “Should we stick with rosé?”
I fidget on my heels, feeling my heart start to race. Cristiano draws closer as the girls keep mulling over their options. I’m about to start sweating.
“Sorry,” one of them apologizes in an attempt to make up for her friends’ indecision.
I calm my nerves by assuring myself that in all likelihood, even if Cristiano sees me, he’ll completely ignore me. It’s not like he’s stopping to talk to any of the other servers. And yet, when I look up and our eyes lock, his dark gaze narrows playfully with intent.
My stomach swoops dangerously as I watch him say something to the group and then break off from them. Once I realize he’s heading directly toward me, panic spears through me and I swivel back around toward the table.
“Why don’t I start you guys off with a pitcher of the frozen sangría?”
Cristiano’s warm hand touches my lower back and my eyes flutter closed for an instant before I realize it, internally berate myself, and whirl around to offer him a small, professional smile.
“Just a minute. I’m almost done here.”
“Oh my god.” One of the girls perks up, seeing Cristiano behind me. “You’re the owner, aren’t you?”
They recognize him? I stifle a groan.
Cristiano offers the group a small wave. “Let me know if you need anything.”
Tonight he’s wearing all black. The color belongs to him. No one wears it like he does.
“Actually…” The prettiest of the bunch leans forward to better offer a tempting view down her dress. “We’re having trouble with our drink orders. Any suggestions?”
The last word rolls off her tongue with enough innuendo to make me blush.
“I’ve told them the frozen sangría is really good,” I tell him, trying to prove I’ve at least done my part in helping them order.
Cristiano’s gaze slides to me like a tantalizing caress, and my chest tightens. “I’d trust Isabel’s suggestions.”
The girl visibly deflates and sits back in her seat. “Oh, all right. Let’s start with a pitcher.”
I nod and spin around, right smack dab into Cristiano.
“It’s Elle,” I whisper curtly as I start to move around him. It’s easier said than done. The club is so packed tonight I’ll have to snake through bodies to get back to the bar. Of course it would be easier to move if Cristiano’s broad chest wasn’t blocking my path.
I look up, not bothering to hide my impatience. “Did you need something? Your friends are waiting for you.”
I’m only guessing, but I’m sure I’m right.
Cristiano takes his sweet time gazing down at me, a ghost of a smile hovering on his lips. “Hugo informed me that our musical act asked about you.”
I rear back in surprise. “The Boréal guy?”
Cristiano nods, glancing briefly at my lips before returning his attention to my eyes to better study my reaction to this news. “He requested your name and number.”
A laugh tumbles out of me before I can cover my mouth with my hand.
Oh, this is too good. Simone is going to flip out when I confirm that her silly plan worked.
“Did Hugo give it to him?” I ask, sounding hopeful.
I don’t actually want to date the DJ, but I’m still curious.
Cristiano’s dark brows tug together as his expression hardens. “No. Hugo told him if he wants your number, he can get it himself. We don’t give out our servers’ personal information, it’s against the law. You understand, I’m sure. I hope you aren’t upset.”
“Upset?” I smile with glee. “That’s even better. That way he’ll have to work for it. A little chase never hurt anyone.”
I start to move around him with every intention of ending our conversation there, but he takes my arm, not hard, though his grip certainly makes it clear I’m supposed to stay right where I am.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” I ask with an innocent flutter of my eyelashes.
He regards me impassively. “I assumed you knew better, Isabel.”
“It’s Elle,” I correct for the second time. “And I do know better. I’m not going to date the guy.” And then, because I can’t help but wonder how much more lighter fluid this blaze can possibly withstand, I tack on, “Or who knows, maybe I will.”
He doesn’t take the bait. Instead, a slow, knowing smile unfurls across his lips. He can see right through me. How perfectly annoying.