Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 106001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Only Isla is evidently lawless tonight.
She glares at Bridger, shakes her head. Then, her smug smile from the ladies’ room returns. “But won’t you be busy after the event?”
He narrows his eyes. “Not. Now,” he bites out.
Isla’s grin turns wickedly wider. “No, I think now is the perfect time to discuss where you’ll be,” she says, then points at me. “With her.”
My heart stops beating. My cheeks flush. The embarrassment I felt for my father moments ago reverses. Now, it blankets my entire body as Isla busts us in front of the table.
In front of one man in particular.
My father blinks, startled and confused. But then, he would never believe his princess would do such a thing. He deals Isla a sharp stare. “Let’s stop this. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
With fire in her green eyes, the scorned woman—scorned by love, and scorned by business—lashes out for the entire ballroom to hear. “Don’t gaslight me, Ian Granger. You know damn well what’s going on.”
With an amused chuckle, he shrugs. “I have no idea why you’d bring my daughter into this. I’d love to know.”
It’s a challenge, spoken as if he holds the winning cards.
I brace myself for more bullets.
Isla tosses her head back and laughs, almost like a beautiful villain in an animated flick. But not that cartoonish. She’s all real and vitriol.
I can’t let this go on, so I seize the chance to control the story. “Dad, I can explain,” I say quickly. I’m not a teenager anymore covering up affairs before someone might go insane.
Bridger jumps in next with, “Let’s go into the hall, Ian.”
But Isla will not be vanquished. With a contemptuous eye roll, she spits out, “I brought your daughter into it—”
“Please stop,” I beg to no avail.
Isla stares at her former lover, ready to deliver a fatal blow. With a devilish grin, she starts up once more, but nope. No way. I’m not going to let her cheapen me.
“I’m in love with Bridger,” I blurt out right as Isla says, “She’s fucking the man who turned down my script.”
Then, I’m shaking. Breathing hard.
I think this is shock.
No one speaks.
Not even the host.
Not a single guest.
No one.
Then, a glass shatters in the silence. I jerk my head toward the sound. Across the room, a server must have dropped a glass of champagne, the flute shattering on the marbled floor.
But the show must go on. From the stage, Jude tries to wrestle control of the rubbernecking and the ten-car pileup. “And on that dramatic note, the winner for Best Actor is Dominic Rivera from Sweet Nothings.”
It takes several seconds to register, and then Dominic blinks, but he doesn’t move from his chair. He’s riveted by the table and the scene unfolding before all our eyes. Then he recovers, stands, and weaves through the crowd toward the stage.
But no one is looking at the star actor who’s nabbed a statuette for his work on a nighttime soap.
Everyone is staring at Table Twelve as we steal the spotlight with our real-life soap opera.
47
MY DINER DREAMS
Bridger
I need to get Ian out of the ballroom, stat. Harlow doesn’t deserve to have this happen in public. I push back in my chair right as Ian rises, like he just grew ten feet tall.
In slow motion, as if he is still processing every shocking detail, he turns first to Isla, an outrage in his eyes, before he erases that, rearranging his features expertly. Then, he laughs softly, like he needs to reassure a child. “Clearly, you’re even more creative than you were before. Because that’s quite a fable.” Then he looks to his daughter gently, calmly, like he’s a different person with her, and says, “You don’t have to cover for Isla just because Bridger turned her down.”
No, just fucking no.
I head to Harlow as Jude once more tries to clean up the mess from the stage. “How about Dominic? Have you seen his character’s library? I fantasize about libraries like that.”
Dominic laughs and says something in reply, but I don’t care.
None of that matters. Nothing matters but Harlow. Not even the too tight feeling in my own body. Not even the way my business, my world, my reputation is spinning out of control.
No, imploding.
Not even the way I can feel the press of bodies. Heavy. The weight of the room. Oppressive.
When I reach her, I take her hand. She laces her fingers through mine. My heart settles. My anxious mind quiets.
I need her more than I need anything or anyone in this room.
I lift my chin and look straight at Ian. “I was going to tell you this tomorrow, but there’s no time like the present. Tomorrow, you’re buying my shares at the price we agreed to when we started the company. I’m exercising the buyout clause in our contract. After that, Lucky 21 is all yours and we won’t be in business together.”