Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 128742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
“Why do I feel like that’s an insult?”
His answer is a wink as he sips his drink. He pops open a carton of food, becoming more agreeable to it once he’s smelled the arresting aromas of the Vietnamese place I passed on the way here.
“Speaking of which,” he says, “a few friends did invite themselves over when they found out I was back in the city.”
Oh.
“Trust me, they’re a lovely lot. Just don’t let them give you investment advice.” He laughs.
“I didn’t mean to intrude. If you’ve got other plans, I can come back another time. Or just take the boxes with me and arrange with Sophie to ship them back— ”
“No, no. I’m not chasing you out. Far from it.” Ben downs his drink and pours himself another. “I prefer to conduct business with friends. And as we embark on this adventure of discovery together, I should like us to be friends.”
“Okay.” Though I’m not sure how a party is conducive to the task at hand. I’m starting to feel a bit duped.
“Oh dear,” he says. “I’ve gone and done something dreadful, haven’t I?” Ben watches me with amused concern. “Please, darling. You mustn’t be afraid of a bit of fun. Life is always throwing unexpected surprises at us.”
My stomach sinks as I watch Ben reach into his pants pocket and pull out a small capped vial of white powder.
He flashes me a cheeky smile. “You really must give yourself permission to relish the chaos.”
38
FROM THE FIRST BUMP OF BLOW, BEN’S LOST TO ME.
I don’t have time to consider an exit strategy before his penthouse is crawling with posh society’s dirty secrets snorting powder off the coffee table and slathering themselves in expensive champagne. They’re all quite pleased with themselves, sloshing about, cackling indecipherably.
I’ve got a headache.
“No, wait,” some leggy brunette shouts at me. She nearly falls off the arm of the sofa before the gentleman nearest her grabs the front of her satin dress to rip her back from gravity’s grip. She points a bony finger at my face. “I’ve placed you.”
If she mentions the “heart is a windmill” song, I might knock myself over the head with a sixteenth-century bookend.
The finger wags and the alcohol runs away with her accent that turns to mud in her mouth. “I know you, tricky girl.”
“Melissa, darling, freshen yourself up.” The gentleman offers her his wrist with a line of cocaine on it.
She takes the bump while still talking to me. “You’re the ginger who wore the Sue Li to the royal engagement.”
“And she was stunning.” Beside me, Ben hasn’t lifted his arm from my shoulder since the circus rode into town. “A showstopper head to toe.”
I tried excusing myself to the kitchen for a glass of water, but he only tightened his grip and ordered one of his fawning friends to pour me another glass of wine. I left that in a potted plant somewhere ages ago. For some reason, he’d unbuttoned his linen shirt at some point, and I’ve been trying not to look at his bare chest and the dusting of dark hair between his pecs. He’s hairier than I would’ve thought.
“My God, I’d never recognize you,” another handsome lizard draped over the sofa exclaims, all but licking his tumbler of scotch dry.
“I saw the takeout containers in the kitchen,” a gorgeous blond says between giggles. “I thought she was the delivery girl.” Then her eyes flick to mine. “Bless the dear girl.”
“Are you incognito?” the first gentleman asks. “Benjamin, I didn’t know it was to be a costume party.”
“And you know what’s even wilder?” Ben boasts to his friends. “Guess who Abbey’s dear old dad happens to be—Gunner Bly.”
“You’re shitting us!” the blond cries. “Truly?”
Right. I think I’ve been a good sport, but I’m all tapped out on fun for the night. I’m clearly never getting a look at those boxes, so my time is wasted here.
“Benjamin, dear,” I say with only a hint of mocking, waiting until he blearily meets my gaze. “I really need to get home.”
“Of course. Where are my manners?” He pulls out his phone to quickly type something, then pockets it again. “My concierge will bring a car ’round. He’ll let me know when it’s arrived.”
“I can wait downstairs.”
“I don’t think she likes our company.” Melissa pouts.
“Not me,” the lizard answers. His boyish eyes look up but fail to focus. “Surely, not me?”
“Nonsense.” Ben’s hand slips down my shoulder to rest at my hip. “I’ll not have you sitting in the lobby like— ”
“The delivery girl!” the blond exclaims. She hoists her glass in the air, spilling wine on the carpet.
Ten minutes later, the car doesn’t materialize. Twenty minutes later, still no car, and Ben’s wandering hands can’t seem to keep themselves above the equator. Meanwhile, he keeps finding new people to stumble their way over with a new glass of wine to try shoving in my hand or a creative new attempt to get their thumbnail under my nose.