Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
I tried to jerk my arm out of his grasp. “Let me go.”
“I’ll let you go once you go back to where you belong.”
Whitt was still at my side. “Ah, Arnold Sinclair. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He stepped forward menacingly. “I would recommend you release my girlfriend.”
Arnold dragged his eyes away from me and took in who Whitt was. He quickly dropped my wrist. “Girlfriend,” he said, as if the word was anathema to my existence.
“Indeed,” Whitt said.
But Arnold was already looking away from him, back to me. Assessing me. Judging me. The way I’d seen him judge a million other people when we had our illicit affair. I knew what he was thinking before he said it. Knew what he saw with me in a slinky cocktail dress and designer shoes, on the arm of a Wright. But there was no way to prevent it. Not now.
“So, you’re with a Wright now? From a Sinclair to a Wright. Classic Eve.”
“Shut up,” I snarled.
Then, he laughed in my face. “The same gold-digging slut you always were.”
I saw black at the words. Even though it wasn’t the first time I’d heard them. Even though they were the furthest from the truth. If I was such a gold digger, then why was I so goddamn poor? Fuck.
For a second, I thought Whitt was going to clock him. His blue eyes hardened in fury. He pushed forward into Arnold’s orbit. The rest of the party seemed to turn as one to take in the action.
“I would suggest you take back your words and apologize to the lady or else we are going to have a problem,” Whitt said.
“Lady,” Arnold said on a laugh.
“I don’t think you understand where you are, Mr. Sinclair,” Whitt said in a voice I’d never heard from him before. It was lethal, unyielding, and more than a little terrifying. “Perhaps I should have introduced myself. I’m Whitton Wright. You’re currently at an event for Jensen Wright to become the mayor of Lubbock. All of his friends and family are here. That includes Eve. Your family has a shoddy history at best with our family. Does Sinclair Realty want to get on the wrong side of Wright Construction? Do you want to be on the wrong side of the Wrights?”
Arnold straightened his suit. “Are you threatening me?”
“Of course not,” Whitt said. “Just reminding you of reality because the minute you denigrated my girlfriend, you crossed a line that I sincerely doubt you want to see come to fruition.”
“How dare you!”
I pushed past Whitt, my blood pressure spiking at all of it. “He means, get the fuck out of here,” I snapped. “And don’t show your lying, cheating face again.”
“Security,” Whitt called. He snapped his fingers, and two men appeared as if they’d done this a million times. As if Whitt had personally thrown people out of an establishment.
“You can’t do this.”
“But I can,” Jensen said smoothly. “He gave you a chance, Arnold.”
“Jensen, you don’t even know what happened!”
“I trust Whitt implicitly,” Jensen said.
“You’re going to lose my campaign donation!”
Jensen smiled, ever the politician. “I think I can do without it.”
Then, the security guards intervened and escorted Arnold out of the room.
27
Whitton
Eve was shaking.
“Hey,” I whispered, shielding her from the prying eyes and ears of the crowd. “Let’s get you some fresh air.”
“I’m fine,” she lied.
“Eve, come on. It’s me.”
She looked up at me with her otherworldly green eyes. She thought that she could hide her pain from me. But I’d spent the last couple of months learning every single expression on her face. I’d memorized her joy and fear and pain. Mapped out the way her lips twitched when I did something she hadn’t expected. The wrinkle of her nose at my taste in music. And the haunting look that came into her eye when discussing her sister. I could see it all right now.
“I’m fine,” she repeated.
“Well, I’m not.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re not?”
I shook my head. “I can’t stay in here another second, knowing he hurt you.”
She softened. She couldn’t let her guard down after what happened, but she could do it for me. “Okay,” she whispered.
I wrapped an arm around her waist, and we exited the ballroom. The noise dissipated as we stepped out into the cool evening air. I drew her into the alcove that led to the outdoor pool area, which was currently empty. She sighed and sank onto a cushioned pool chair.
“He made a fool of me,” she said into her hands.
“He made a fool of himself and no one else.”
She laughed disdainfully. “He called me a gold-digging slut in front of everyone.”
“Something that no one else believes.”
She shrugged. “You don’t know that.”
“The people who matter don’t think that. We know you.”
“And everyone else?”
“Since when do you care what everyone else thinks?”
She looked away from me. The reflection of the pool highlighting her features. “I don’t.”