Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
THIRTY-ONE
CORA
I’m sitting at the café with my laptop in front of me while I try to work when Arlo comes to mind. I’ve been trying to define what we are and what we are doing for a while now. He tried calling this week, and I ignored him. While I know I should end it with him, I enjoy it too much. It’s so different from what I had with Luke. Everything was clean and clear with him, but with Arlo, there are mixed feelings involved. The moment I saw him, I thought he was striking. But then he opened his mouth and demanded things, and I detested him.
Now, all I think about is him making me say “please” and the way he looks at me.
I’ve had many men look at me over the years, and I’ve learned to decipher the meaning behind the majority of their looks. Most men see a woman and automatically put her into a box in their minds. Attractive. Unattractive. Friend. Someone they want to fuck.
Arlo, on the other hand, is a completely different ball game.
Sometimes his eyes tell me he thinks I’m attractive and that he wants to fuck me, but other times his eyes are soft or thoughtful when he looks at me, like he wants to crack my head open and see what I’m thinking. It’s incredibly confusing.
“Hi, sorry to bother you.”
I look up from my laptop to see a woman I don’t recognize standing beside my table. She smiles softly at me, pulls out the chair across from mine, and I’m confused by her sudden interruption.
Glancing at my half-eaten cake and coffee, she says, “It looks good. Is it chocolate?”
“Yes,” I tell her. She’s dressed in a red suit that looks amazing on her. She has long black hair tied back in a tight ponytail and the softest baby-blue eyes I have ever seen.
But who the fuck is she?
And why the fuck is she interrupting me?
“Sorry, my name is Cressida. And I know it sounds weird, but a few sources have told me you’re close to Arlo Graves. Is that right?” When I don’t answer, she continues, “I can see your hesitation about answering my question. Smart. Have you met Soren as well?”
“Why are you asking me these questions?”
“These men are dangerous and very good at making people disappear. I want you to be aware of that.”
“Okay, thanks. Are you an ex of one of them?”
She laughs. “Absolutely not.” She shakes her head, and her full red lips curve into a smile. “Woman to woman…” She leans in closer. “Stay away from them,” she warns before she stands. But before she leaves, she pulls out a card and drops it on the table. “Call me if you need any more information. Don’t hesitate.”
I remain silent because what the hell? My first thought is she’s a jealous ex. My second is perhaps Arlo is hiding something. The problem is, I don’t know him well enough.
“Do you know what the hunt is?” I ask her as she turns to leave. Her back stiffens at my question, and when she turns back to me, her baby-blue eyes lock on mine.
“Word of warning. Don’t mention that word around any of those men,” she whispers, then, in a normal voice, she adds, “There’s a gala tonight. You should attend.” She picks up her card and then proceeds to write an address on the back. Smiling, she puts her pen away and then walks off.
With my mind whirling, I look down at the card.
What is going on?
And why does there appear to be so many damn secrets?
You could say it’s the wine, or you could say that I’m just plain fucking stupid right now. I’m going to go with a combination of the two. Because I can’t seem to work out in my head what the fuck I’m doing.
The sign in front of me tells me this is a private function. I look to my left, and Cressida smiles at me. She’s in a striking red dress that cascades to the floor. She told me it was a formal event, but I decided to go with a simple black slip dress.
I’d thought about her questions all day and then decided fuck it! I’m going to find out more about this man I have let into my life and into my body. Granted, neither of us has made commitments to each other, but he knows more about me than I know about him, and right now that seems to be unfair.
“Are we allowed to enter?” I ask as she steps up to the door.
“No, but all they can do is kick us out.” She winks and pushes it open.
The first thing I notice is the smell of cigar smoke. The second thing is that the room is full of people. Cressida saunters in like she belongs here and knows exactly where she’s going.