Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Her eyes practically bug out of her head. “Holy shit.”
“Too short?”
“Yes. It’s obscene. I love it. Spin.” I do as she says, and she lets loose a ridiculous catcall. “It’s perfect.”
“For a small child maybe.”
“Whatever. I’m obsessed. Here.” She holds out a pair of silver heels that have a thin ankle strap. “I rooted through my closet. I know you’re a half-size smaller than me, but these heels should work if you tighten them enough.”
So this is it. There’s no going back.
Collette and I walk arm in arm through the lobby of her apartment complex to the Uber waiting outside. The driver clears his throat when we get in, his cheeks coloring slightly as he turns back to us.
“Uh, hey. You ladies ready to go?”
Collette grins and shoots me a wink. “Ready.”
Bar 717 has been completely transformed by a team of event designers hired by Collette and her friends. Near the entrance, a thick wall of fresh white flowers creates the perfect backdrop for photos. Disco balls rain down from the ceiling, the bar’s usual furniture has been replaced by modern white tables and silver chairs, and filled champagne buckets ensure no one’s flute is empty. Loud music pulses around us, and the bar is packed. Collette wastes no time thrusting me into the throng of people.
“Let’s get a drink!”
I’m glad she doesn’t abandon me straight away. As one of the party hosts, she knows everyone here, and she’s nice enough to introduce me around as she gets tugged into conversations on our way to the main bar. It’s not long before we bump into faces I recognize from St. John’s.
Collette perks up when she sees her friends. “Pippa, Francesca, Heath, you remember Lainey Davenport?”
Pippa and Francesca look less than pleased to see me. They barely give me passing smiles, but Heath’s interest is immediately piqued.
“Little Lainey Davenport, holy shit. I never thought I’d see you at a party like this. Killer dress,” he says, stepping closer. “Where are you two headed? The bar? I’ll come.”
He drops his hand to my shoulder to help guide me and off we go, the three of us slipping through the large crowd.
I remember Heath from St. John’s. He belonged to Emmett’s group and I think he was on the soccer team too, but I can’t be sure. My blinders were up when it came to other guys at school. That’s how loyal I was to the man I wish I weren’t thinking about right now.
Even still, I remember Heath being such a player back then, and obvious about it too. He dated a senior girl when he was only a sophomore then wound up cheating on her with her best friend. Worse, the original girl didn’t even care. She took him back a month later, and they dated until her graduation, when he promptly dumped her and moved on to someone else.
I look over at him with a shrewd stare. “Do you actually remember me?”
He laughs. “Uh, yeah. You were legendary at St. John’s. Ghost girl, right? Don’t think it’s weird, but I sort of had a little crush on you.”
“Right.”
He smiles. “I’m serious. I mean obviously you were way too young for me, but you could see then what you were going to become…”
I raise a brow. “What’s that?”
He almost looks embarrassed. “Don’t make me say it. A girl as hot as you probably gets compliments thrown at her nonstop.”
A girl as hot as me…
Hilarious.
If only he knew the truth.
I don’t want to care what the former students of St. John’s have to say about me. Quite frankly, his declaration doesn’t change things now, but it satisfies the fragile ego of the young girl still sheltered inside me, the one who felt so alone at that school, the one who clung to the idea of Emmett with everything she had.
“Don’t tell your fiancé I said that.” Heath laughs.
So he knows about Emmett and me. He doesn’t need to worry, though.
Emmett isn’t here.
At least not that I’ve seen, and I’ve looked. The crowd is thick, but not so much so that he’d go unnoticed. Emmett’s never been one to easily blend in.
Maybe he doesn’t celebrate New Year’s Eve like the rest of his old St. John’s friends.
Maybe he’s with someone else. The seductive blonde, perhaps.
“What do you want?” Collette asks me when we reach the bar.
They have a few signature cocktails listed and I peruse the list, landing on a cranberry martini. It’s served with a dusting of sugar on the rim, candied cranberries, and an orange peel garnish. It’s almost too pretty to drink after the bartender passes it over to me.
“You guys want to dance?” Heath asks.
The DJ is playing house music woven with popular songs from artists we all know: Taylor Swift, Lizzo, Justin Bieber. It’s actually pretty catchy.
I look to Collette, and she shrugs. “Sure, yeah. I could dance.”