Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
I love the dress I bought off a sale rack, but it’s going to take some getting used to.
The silk green fabric brings out the jade in my eyes and shows off the condition my body is in from years of training. The back of the dress hangs low, showcasing my full back.
A nervous energy sizzles in my bloodstream. The events of last night still live inside me, making themselves known. I’m once again out of my comfort zone and don’t like the eyes following me around the room—like I’m on display for their indulgence.
My stomach dips when I notice a familiar face.
Marcello stands across the room, gazing at me.
Why is he here?
His gray suit molds to his physique, giving a peek at all the treats that lay beneath.
Luca is like the sun. The closer you get, the more at risk of burn. Marcello is the moon. The closer you get, the more amongst the stars you feel. I like the burn.
I realize I’ve been staring too long at him when his lips kick up into a knowing smirk. He walks toward me, all eyes following his path, curious or just admiring the view of his rear end.
“Well, look at you,” he beams, flicking his tongue out to wet his lips as he takes his time caressing his gaze over my body. I feel exposed.
“I didn’t realize ballet was something you enjoyed,” I say, thankful my voice doesn’t betray me with just how affected I am at his appearance here.
In a way, it makes me feel closer to Luca. Why does he have such a hold on me?
Reaching out, he swipes a lock of hair from my bare shoulder, sending a wave of shame pulsing through my veins.
It’s nothing, a drag of his knuckles, but it’s not Luca’s touch.
Embarrassment tinges my cheeks. I’m pathetic, allowing someone who rejected me to still have an influence on my body.
Maybe I should date a little, get rid of some of this pent-up sexual tension. Then Luca won’t feel so special, so alluring.
“I didn’t either,” Marcello murmurs, his attention making the tension between us grow.
His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows.
“I wanted to check in on you after what happened last night. Hannah told me you were there covering her shift.”
Digging my nails into the palm of my hand, I inhale a calming breath, trying not to allow the memories of last night bring tears with them.
“You didn’t have to come all this way to this to ask me that.” I blush, resting my hands on one of the tall tables set out through the room.
“That’s not the only reason I’m here, but it is the most important one.”
He holds up his hand to signal for one of the waiters to bring him another drink.
“I want you to take some time off. A couple weeks maybe.” He leans against the table, his arm muscles stretching the fabric of his suit.
“Luca fired me.” I exhale, searching his face to see if he knew. His brows pull in.
“Really?” He rubs a hand across the back of his neck, grimacing. “A lot happened last night. It was an intense situation. Let’s just say you take a break and then see how things go from there.”
My chin drops to my chest. Is he pitying me, or is it because firing me may look bad with what happened at the club?
She’s no one. The phantom words sting just as heavy as they did when they fell from his lips. My body jolts when Marcello places a hand against my bare back.
“Just think about it, bella.” His tone is soft, playful, and then he’s gone, disappearing into the throngs of people.
Two glasses of champagne, and I already feel the warm glow of alcohol giving me a little confidence to walk the room. Jewel is standing with an older couple.
The woman has the same eyes as Jewel and a dancer’s posture.
Lifting a hand to give a small wave isn’t reciprocated. Instead, Jewel lifts her chin and adverts her eye. My gesture gains the eyes of her father, however.
He whispers something in her ear, never taking his eyes from my dress.
His interest is like tar coating my skin, sticky and unpleasant.
I sense other eyes on me as I move through the room, a man watching me with blazon curiosity.
I move to the bar and order a club soda. My heart races inside my chest. The need to get out of here makes my legs vibrate when I sense his approach.
“So, who are you?” The male voice vibrates so close to my ear, his body brushing against mine. I take a step to the side to rid myself from his overzealous advance.
He’s handsome but intoxicated and entitled, uglying any pretty he may have had.
I don’t want to come across as rude and get reported, so I force a tight smile.