Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 86596 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86596 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
The music in the room gets a bit louder at the same time the house lights get lower. People begin dancing, and on the other side of the room, several bottles of champagne are being popped, fizzes and bubbles spilling out over the carpeted floor as everyone cheers.
A lot of the basketball players are easy to recognize because they're so tall.
“So who are most of these people?”
“I'd say mostly it’s fans? People who knew we were gonna come out celebrating tonight. Only a few brave players will come out in public on a night like this. There are still thousands of people outside.”
“That's an understatement.” I can't even believe we were able to make it inside. It's utter madness. Eli or someone from the team had this entire bar reserved, and we were on a list. All we had to do was make it to the door.
I've only seen crowds like this on television.
Only a fool would come out in this chaos for a basketball championship!
I love stadium food but am not really a fan of any one particular sport. Give me a big ole hot dog in a bun any day of the week, and I’m satisfied. Nachos. Beer. Basically, any junk food…
Will I watch the game?
No.
Will I cheer? Also no.
Is it just my imagination, or is Eli still conspicuously close, the heat from his body still warming mine?
At the same time I noticed his proximity, I saw three younger women to my left whispering amongst themselves and casting glances over at my fake date. My buddy? One of them is clearly interested and is taking it upon herself to instigate an ambush with her two friends. This seems like a professional, inside job ha ha. Even though I’m standing with him, it appears they’re formulating a plan, Eli in their sights.
The lady balls on some people! I’m literally standing right here. They couldn’t be any more obvious if they set a firecracker off in the room.
They don’t know I’m not his girlfriend!
They don’t know I’m not his real date!
I get jostled, suddenly wet down the front of my dress, the cold liquid trickling from my hem to the top of my foot.
“Oh, my god,” one of them says. “I am so sorry!”
Sorry my ass! This was a premeditated drink spill!
WHO DOES THAT!?
I’m assuming the plan is for me to disappear to the bathroom and clean myself off.
Ha!
Joke’s on them. I’m on to their plan and couldn’t give a shit about a damp skirt.
“Can I get a few napkins?” I throw a nod to the bartender, whose expression tells me he isn’t buying their schtick either. “Oh gosh, don’t even worry about it! Happens all the time,” I lie. “Once, Eli and I were at a Wet Party, and I was so soaked.”
One of the trio is curious enough to ask what on earth I’m talking about. “A Wet Party? What’s that?”
I’m dabbing at my tits even though they’re not damp in the least. “Mostly just water,” I babble. “Lots of white shirts. It’s basically a giant wet tee shirt contest but with pants and things.”
I sound like an incredible idiot, but the group of women is dumb enough to believe me.
The blonde who spilled her drink on me purses her mouth, looking perturbed that I’m still present and having a conversation.
“Was it hosted by one of your clients?” she asks Eli.
Bingo! I was right. They knew exactly who he is and aimed to prey, er—I mean, hit on him.
“Yeah. Obviously. Top secret, though. Invite only.”
“When is it?” She wants to know.
“July.”
He’s quick on his toes—almost as fast as I am when it comes to spouting off information—but also not oversharing.
I’m impressed.
“You should really go take care of that,” the woman in blue tells me. She’s now holding two glasses; hers and the empty wineglass. “Your dress looks expensive.”
Yeah, the dress was expensive. It’s also not mine. I borrowed it from Posey because I was in need of something chic but comfortable, and this sheath was perfect, albeit a bit fancy for a bar. “Damage is done. I’ll handle it tomorrow. Nothing we can do about it tonight.”
The three women throw glances between themselves, girl in blue elbowing the one in hot pink sequins from behind. It’s subtle, but I catch it.
They’re so annoyed by me right now, but this is NOT MY PROBLEM.
Not only is it not my problem but the way they’re going about this? All wrong. You don’t physically bully someone so a man will chat with you. Ridiculous.
I once had a friend who was dating a baseball player in college, and when we’d go to bars, other girls would yank on her ponytail when she was with him.
Horrible.
How do I get them gone?
The honest and direct approach.
“Listen,” I begin matter-of-factly. “I can appreciate the fact that you appreciate Elias here. But he’s not on the market, and spilling alcohol down the front of my outfit won’t get me to go away. It’s tacky and rude, which Eli hates. So why don’t you save yourself from any further embarrassment by walking away? He’s not interested.”