Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“That’s very kind of you,” I tell him.
He takes the empty seat beside me. I feel the sweat start to build under my arms and behind my knees. I wish he’d go away. Choose someone else, someone who actually looks excited to see him and his money.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you at one of these things before,” he says. “Are you a virgin?”
I nearly choke on my champagne. He chuckles, a croaking frog-like sound. I am probably one of the least experienced girls here, but I’m not about to advertise that fact. Having sex means letting people get close to you, and I don’t let very many people get close to me.
“Excuse me,” I say, rising to my feet. “I need to...reapply my lipstick.”
“Aw, I was just joking, sweetie. No need to play hard to get.” He grabs my hand and pulls me onto his lap. My limbs freeze up as his bony arms cinch around my waist. “Though I must say, the deer-in-headlights look is really doing it for me—”
“I believe you’re in my seat, Mr. Treasurer.”
I crane my neck to get a look at the face of the man staring down at us. I instantly recognize him from before, when I first walked in.
Ice-blue eyes. Sandy brown hair, shorn close to the scalp, yet still long enough to comb your fingers through, if you were interested in doing that sort of thing. He’s younger than most of the men here, though that still places him firmly in his late thirties.
His gaze meets mine, and even though I’m seated on a creep’s lap, I immediately feel...safer.
“I don’t see your name on it,” the old man—Mr. Treasurer—says.
“Trust me, it’s there. Now let the young lady stand up so I can claim what’s mine.”
Mr. Treasurer narrows his gaze at the younger man, who makes no move to step down or back away.
“I didn’t realize you’d made a down payment. My apologies.” The old creep lets go of me. I practically leap from his lap. He stands up and waves his hand at the chair. “All yours.”
The younger man takes the empty seat without a word.
“Name’s Jack,” the man says, holding out his hand to me. “Forgive me if I’ve just pulled you away from the geriatric of your dreams, but you looked like you could use an emergency exit.”
“God, yes...and thank you.” I shake his hand. He doesn’t pull or try to convince me to sit in his lap, but I find myself mysteriously drawn to him.
I sit down on the arm of his chair, granting me a front-row seat to his face. He’s handsome, but not flawless. There’s a faint scar on his forehead, and his nose is slightly crooked; he probably broke it as a kid. The dusting of stubble along his jaw makes him look rugged, which is hard to pull off in a suit.
He has to be rich if he’s here tonight. I wonder how he makes his money.
“What’s your name?” he asks.
“Mia,” I say, using the fake name Kenzie helped me come up with.
“Where are you from, Mia?”
“All over,” I say with a shrug. A stock answer for strangers, but Jack doesn’t feel like a stranger. I feel like I’ve known him for ages.
“What brings you out into the country on a Saturday night? Shouldn’t you be partying with your friends?”
“I don’t really like parties,” I say.
“In that case, why’re you here?”
“My friend wanted to come. She thought we could make some easy money.”
The light dims behind his smile.
“Trust me, sweetheart. Ain’t nothing easy about this kind of money.”
I finish off the last of my champagne. Jack watches my throat closely as I swallow, his gaze warm and intense.
“How old are you, Mia?”
“Eighteen,” I say.
For a second, I think he looks relieved. His face is kind. I hate to think he’s a creep like the rest of the men here, but why else would he be at this party?
“You in some kind of trouble?” he asks.
“Why? You want to rescue me again?”
He chuckles. “Just wondering if you could use a getaway.”
Kenzie and I lock eyes from across the room. She makes a crude gesture with her fingers at the sight of me sitting so close with a man. I purse my lips, grateful I went with full-coverage foundation tonight, otherwise my cheeks would be as red as the hair on my head.
“I’d love to get the hell out of here,” I say. “But I can’t leave my friend. Thanks for the offer, though.”
“Anytime,” he says, and I get the feeling he means it.
I have no good reason to trust Jack, but it's rare that I meet someone who’s so easy to talk to. Someone who doesn't make me break out in a cold sweat just by looking at them. The only other person I feel this comfortable around is Kenzie.