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)
Later, while we go about our closing duties, I report all this to Annika and Simone.
“You should have heard how she said it. It was so ridiculous. Cristiano, baby. Just like that, all whiny and simpering like she was about to drop down on her knees and blow him right there.”
Annika laughs as she continues wiping a nearby table. Meanwhile, Simone and I are working together to dry a few racks of glassware. Well, Simone dries. I’m providing the entertainment.
“He has to be so full of himself. I bet he just loves the way women treat him. Everyone up in VIP must be all over him, kissing his ass. Can you even imagine? Cristiano, baby this, Cristiano, baby that.”
I only realize once I finish this longwinded aimless monologue that Annika and Simone have stopped working. Both of their eyes are as wide as saucers. Annika’s trying to stifle a laugh, and Simone is miming a cutting motion across her neck while mouthing something I can’t make out.
Finally it dawns on me.
He’s right behind me.
Chapter Nine
Isabel
My back stiffens and my eyes close for a moment as I try to fend off the overwhelming embarrassment. I want to run out of this club as fast as my feet can take me, but that’s not an option. I blink and look at my friends. Even their cheeks are pink, their expressions filled with dread but, beneath that, utter delight.
“How long has he been there?” I ask tightly.
Simone winces. “The whole time. Yeah, since the first Cristiano, baby.” She looks past me as she continues. “I don’t agree with any of what she said, sir. Not the whiny bit or the… kissing your…”
Annika rushes over and grabs ahold of Simone.
“Should we?” she asks, walking her index and middle finger on air.
“Yes, let’s.” Simone pats my shoulder as they scurry away. “Good luck, Elle. It was fun working with you while it lasted! Really was!”
“Hate to rush off!” Annika waves.
I don’t turn around to face Cristiano right away. There’s a small chance my friends are playing a hilarious prank on me. Cristiano isn’t here. He’s off with that girl I was telling them about. He’s forgotten I exist, lost in her body and…
“Please,” I whisper under my breath as I turn ever so slightly, and then my heart sinks because he is in fact standing there. Every excessively tall inch of him.
I toss my hands up, suddenly mad. “You can’t go around sneaking up on people! I could have been talking about something private.”
His mouth quirks, just enough for his right dimple to pop. “Instead you were—”
“Discussing my shift! I barely mentioned you. For not even two minutes, if that. We were bored. We had nothing else to talk about. You came up because…”
The sentence dwindles as I continue to wave my hand in aggressive circles, hoping the motion will awaken the intelligent part of my brain.
No such luck, so I change tactics.
“What are you doing here?” I ask accusingly. “Do you keep this close a watch on all your employees?”
It’s like I think that if I keep talking long enough, he won’t have the window of opportunity to fire me for what he overheard. I doubt he allows his employees to talk that way about him in his own club. There’s no way I’m walking out of here with my job. In fact, I doubt I’ll have much of my dignity left, either.
Being this close to him is like an adrenaline rush. I was tired before, but now I’ve caught my second wind. I barely notice my racing heart as he takes me in with a mixture of amusement and intrigue.
“When your grandmother called me to inform me you were on Ibiza, she asked me to keep a careful eye on you.”
“MY GRANDMOTHER CALLED YOU?”
My jaw is on the floor. That’s it. It’s curtains for Lita. She had a good long run.
“You didn’t tell me that the other day.” I sound accusatory. “You just said you knew her.”
He briefly glances around us, then nods for me to follow him. Unlike the other night, he doesn’t shove me along, though I can tell he’d love to. It must be so annoying for him to deal with my obstinance when everyone else in his life is so eager to kiss his ring and beg to be in his presence. As I walk, his hand presses to my lower back, encompassing far too much of it as he leads me toward the side of the stage, away from prying eyes. He’s like an NFL quarterback with those hands of his. I file that tidbit away for another time and stay focused on the task.
My grandmother called Cristiano. There’s no shortage of possibilities as to what she could have said to this man, and every option makes me want to weep.