Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 164828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
“Male, female, young, old?”
“Guy, middle aged. Seemed boring,” I lie, Henry Morgan didn’t seem boring at all but I’m not in the mood for a Spanish inquisition. “Oh my God.” I gasp to change the subject. “Did I tell you about the guy we met on Saturday night?”
“No.” He frowns.
“Jolie met this guy.” I giggle just remembering it. “She met this guy named Santiago who was showing her videos of him having sex with different women.”
“What?”
“I’m serious. Like full frontal hard fucking. All different women, all different positions.”
Nathan screws up his face. “What did Jolie do?”
“She drank shots of tequila while she watched it.”
“What?” He chuckles. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, it was the most bizarre thing I’ve ever seen.”
“You watched it, too?”
I laugh.
“You did?”
I shrug. “It was kind of hot.” I offer as an explanation.
“He could have been a serial killer. Guys don’t just show women videos of themselves having sex with other people. That’s just fucking weird. Like stalker weird.”
I laugh. “I know, right?” I shovel more cheese and biscuits into my mouth. “I’ve never even filmed myself having sex. I wouldn’t even want to watch that back, let alone show other people.”
“What?” Nathan frowns. “You’ve never filmed yourself having sex?”
“No.” I scowl. “Have you?”
“Everyone’s done that.”
“Not me.”
“Why not?” He seems shocked.
“I don’t know?” I laugh. “It’s never come up. Nobody I’ve slept with has ever suggested it.”
He stares at me in disbelief. “Eliza, just how vanilla is your sex life?”
I widen my eyes. “Well, very vanilla if this is anything to go by.”
He sips his champagne as if fascinated. “And you like vanilla sex?”
“Not really.” I shrug. “I’ve never thought about it before. I guess I’m waiting for a big, bad man to teach me bad things.”
His eyes hold mine.
I smile, slightly embarrassed by my lack of experience. “Anyway, I forget what sex is even like.”
“How long since you have had it?”
“Two years.”
“You haven’t had sex for two years?” he gasps.
“Nope.”
“Jesus, Eliza.” he whispers. “Why not?”
“I guess I’m waiting for Mr. Right this time.”
He stares at me for a moment before he speaks. “So, what you’re saying is that you’re waiting for a Mr. Right to teach you how to be bad?”
“Precisely.” I smile. “Do you know anyone?” I tease.
He runs the backs of his fingers down my cheek as if distracted. “Maybe.”
I smile up at my beautiful friend. He looks so handsome in his dinner suit. I rearrange his bow tie and run my fingers through his messed-up hair.
“Are you ready to go, Mr. Mercer?”
His tongue darts out and slides across his bottom lip, and I get the feeling he has something else on his mind. “If we must.”
4
Eliza
We walk into the ballroom. The venue is grand with high ceilings and beautiful, low hanging chandeliers. Huge vases of beautiful pink and cream fresh flowers sit on every table alongside lit candles. Glamorous people in black tie are standing everywhere.
“What’s this ball in aid of again?” I ask as I scan the room.
“It’s a fundraiser for The Children’s Medical Research Hospital.”
“Looks swanky.” I smile.
“I certainly hope so. The tickets were ten thousand dollars.”
“Each?” I frown.
“Yes.” He twists his lips as he looks around. “It’s a good cause.”
I widen my eyes. “Jeez.” I try to work out how many people are here and how much they are raising.
A bartender walks past with a silver tray of champagne.
“Champagne, sir.”
“Thank you.” Nathan takes two and passes one to me. He takes a sip of his. He winces and looks at the glass.
“No good?” I frown.
“Not twenty thousand dollars good.”
I giggle. “Nothing is that good.”
He takes my hand and leads me over to the seating arrangements where he scans the chart.
Hmm, I think there would be at least five hundred people here. I do the math in my head. Is that five hundred thousand?
“If there are five hundred people here, is that five hundred thousand dollars raised?” I ask as Nathan leads me over to our table.
“Five million.” He replies distracted as he weaves in and out of the tables.
“Holy crap, that’s a shit ton of cash,” I whisper.
He chuckles as we arrive at our table, and he pulls out my chair. “You have such a way with words, darling.”
He undoes his dinner jacket button with one hand before he sits down. He instantly turns to the woman and man he is seated next to.
“Hello, I’m Nathan Mercer. Nice to meet you.” He shakes their hands and then gestures to me. “And this is Eliza.”
“Hello.” The lady and man smile. “I’m Mario, and this is my wife Alessandra.”
“Hello.” I shake their hands. Nathan and his impeccable manners. He introduces us wherever we go.
“Lovely ball room, isn’t it?” Alessandra smiles.
“Gorgeous.”
“Dr. Mercer!” someone calls, and we turn to see a woman smiling and waving. “How lovely to see you.”
Nathan smiles broadly and offers a wave. His eyes dart to me for approval to go talk with her.