Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“Are you in the office?” I asked, glancing at the time.
“No, I’m at home. Alone. I’m just having some um, technical difficulties…”
“Why don’t you let me take care of it first thing Monday? Let me know what to send and where to send it and I will get it sorted, okay?” I realized I was speaking to him like he was a child, but he seemed relieved. I was, too – I had been worried about how I was going to explain the fact that my passport said Freya Hamilton.
“Fuck, that would be grand!” he said happily, his accent all the stronger for being under the influence.
“And you’re okay, right?” I asked again.
“I’m not, Effie,” he said seriously, before laughing. “Put it this way, I’m not having the best of days, not as good as my brother, anyway!”
“Okaayy,” I said slowly, telling myself this was not my problem. “Well, you have a good night, and I will see you on Monday.”
“Sure,” he said, and then added, “Where are you going in the tiny dress?”
I hesitated. “Just out with some people from work, nothing special, really. I’d better go…”
“I’m a people from work,” he said in a low voice.
I was lost for words. Did he really want me to ask him along? What would Taylor say if I showed up with the boss? And yet, his tone made me worry. There was something in his voice that sounded so deeply… sad. And vulnerable. A long way from the usual haughty, unapproachable attitude that he exuded.
“It’s probably not going to be your kind of thing,” I said, as it suddenly occurred to me that as bad as it was, this could be the perfect time to get him to confess to whatever he was up to with Animagic and Dynasty Games.
He laughed, a harsh, mocking laugh. “Hey, I’m teasing you, I know nobody wants the boss to come along!”
“No, no, it’s not that!” I said, lightly. “I will text you the details! You might enjoy yourself.”
“You… don’t mind?” he asked, his tone suddenly serious.
“No, why would we?” I smiled in the hope that it would come across in my voice, but I had a gnawing feeling in my stomach that I was overstepping the line. Snooping at Clover House was one thing; taking advantage of someone when they were vulnerable was quite another. And yet, something in me wanted him to come, wanted to see this weird new side of him.
It took me a while to get my courage up and find the club, even though Taylor had sent me directions. I had forwarded the directions on to Keegan, but at this stage I was hoping against hope that he wouldn’t show. The dance floor was already busy with people. Cozy booths with very low lighting surrounded it. The whole effect was like a theatre – each booth had deep leather seating and was hung with green velvet curtains. I loved it, and as I sought out Taylor, she squealed at me.
“Damn!” she stood back and took my hands, twirling me to see my outfit. “You look shit hot!”
“You seem surprised,” I laughed. “I’m going to have to rethink my work attire!”
She looked at me seriously. “Yes, you are.”
I laughed. “Okay, I will! Listen, I have to tell you something!”
“Hurry, I have just ordered cocktails and you have the time it takes for Miguel here,” she waved at the barman, “to sort me out, and then I have got to dance!”
“Okay, don’t be mad, it’s a long story, but Keegan is coming…” I winced in anticipation of her reaction.
“What the fuck?” she cried. “Is he going to take the stick out of his ass so he can dance?”
“I’m sorry!” I cringed. “It just happened, but he sounds pretty drunk, so maybe it will be okay?”
“Ah,” she smiled. “Keegan Callahan drunk? Well, that’s something I would like to see!”
I laughed nervously and took the glass offered to me by Miguel. Sipping the cool liquid, I watched as Taylor made her way to the dance floor, where she hugged someone she must have known. So much for my night of not-being-me. Here I was, trapped again between Freya Hamilton and Effie Hancock. I went to the only empty booth, ducked under the low hanging curtain, and slid inside. The drink tasted divine and I felt myself relax a little, but it was going to take a few more before I would feel like dancing. Then I glanced at the bar and saw him. Keegan was leaning against the bar, a bottle of beer in his hand. He didn’t look terribly drunk. He was wearing dark jeans and a dark shirt. His hair, usually so perfectly slicked into place, had been washed and allowed to go slightly wavy, and I was surprised to see how long it was. I felt a tightening inside me, and I bitterly regretted inviting him.