Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 145746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
She’s swaying slightly in her seat. It would be perfectly natural for me to ask if she wants to—
“Verity, here you are,” JCPenney model says, approaching with a hopeful smile. “I was looking for you. Wanna dance?”
Light-skinned, green-eyed motherfucker. I knew it.
“Oh, Phillip,” Verity says, looking over to me and then back to him. “Hey.”
“Sorry I got pulled away.” He finally notices me, and the hope in his eyes flickers into uncertainty. “Oh, but if you two—”
“No,” Verity and I say in unison.
Even though I said it, too, her quick denial kind of pisses me off.
“No,” Verity says again, more evenly. “Monk and I are just…”
She holds my gaze for a few charged seconds and then looks back up at Phillip with a smile.
“We’re just old friends.” She stands, and the gold dress spills over her curves like stardust. “I’d love to dance.”
Phillip looks like he just won the lottery and takes Verity’s hand to lead her away.
“Um, nice to meet you,” he mumbles, paying me a cursory glance as they go.
“I’ll be back,” Verity says, looking over her shoulder and searching my face. “You’re not leaving yet, are you?”
“Nah.” I take a long draw of my old-fashioned. “It’s almost midnight.”
She nods and follows Phillip onto the floor.
I refuse to watch her dance with this guy. I hate that it bothers me. I hate that after all these years, even with the rules laid out clearly, and her playing by them, that it’s a knife in my gut when I see anyone else touch her.
“Sounds like a you problem, Bellamy,” I mutter.
“I thought that was you.”
I look up and have to orient myself for a second, not used to seeing Olivia Ware outside of the movie set.
“Livvie,” I say, finding a smile from somewhere. “Hey. Seems like half the cast is here tonight.”
“Good food and good booze,” she says, pausing and smiling at me. “Good company.”
“Not sure I’m that tonight.” I gesture to the empty table. “But you’re welcome to join me.”
“Actually…” Livvie traces a finger over the tablecloth. “I was hoping you’d dance with me?”
Mariah Carey’s just finished the first verse of “Vision of Love,” so there’s plenty of song left. Why the hell not?
I guide Livvie out to the floor. She’s a beautiful woman, with her deep brown skin and pixie haircut. Funny, too. If I could stop searching the dance floor for Verity long enough to pay attention to what Livvie is saying, I’m sure I’d enjoy her conversation. Finally I spot the flash of copper and gold sprinkled into the crowd as JCPenney—Phillip—leads Verity across the floor. Her eyes lock with mine over his shoulder, and I wish we hadn’t come. Instead of being on opposite sides of the room dancing with strangers, we could be at my place watching some movie she knows by heart. We could be ringing in the New Year in my bed.
We could be together.
Once the song ends, there’s polite applause as the chairman of Galaxy Studios takes the stage at the far end of the rooftop.
“Thank you all for coming,” he says, eyes slightly glassy like he’s several scotches into a good time. “We’ve had one of our best years, and with so many amazing projects on our docket, this next one promises to be the greatest yet!”
He drones on, and I glance at my watch, wondering when I can slip away. My phone vibrates in my pocket and I pull it out to read the text that came over.
Verity: Meet me behind Cabana #4.
I look around, searching the crowd for bright gold. I spot Phillip on the room’s periphery, alone and looking like somebody stole his dog.
Or his dance partner.
I start stepping away before I’ve had time to process her request.
“Oh, wait.” Livvie stops me with a hand on my arm, her pretty face telegraphing disappointment. “You’re leaving?”
“Bathroom,” I whisper so I won’t be heard over the blah, blah, blah show Galaxy’s chairman is giving onstage.
I pick my way through the crowd with as little disruption as possible and head for the line of numbered cabanas along the pool’s edge. Glancing over my shoulder like someone might stop me, I try the door, which is locked.
“I said behind the cabana,” a disembodied voice hisses.
Grinning, I poke my head around the corner, behind the cabana. It’s semi-dark, but I can easily make out the shimmer of Verity’s dress and the vibrance of her smile.
“Hi,” she says, folding her hands in front of her like she’s not sure what to do with them. Like now that she has me here, she’s not sure what to do with me.
“Hi, yourself.” I step closer until we’re both hidden from the party’s view between the back of the cabana and a wall. “You didn’t want to count in the New Year with El DeBarge?”
She sputters a laugh and rolls her eyes. “Phillip doesn’t look anything like El DeBarge. His eyes are green, for one thing.”