Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 84026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
I was still deeply hurt about Zakai, and wanted to present myself to Dawson free and clear of the vestiges of that relationship that might interfere with our marriage.
Carly tilted her head. “Are you sure?”
“Sure about what?”
“Are you sure that’s what you’re lying to yourself about?”
I looked away. I knew what she was suggesting. She was suggesting the lie was not about my feelings for Zakai, but rather my feelings for Dawson. I shook my head. “No,” I insisted. Because I wouldn’t consider that. I finally had someone who loved me. Who wanted to cherish me and was proud of all that I had achieved. Yes, he didn’t want anything to do with my past, but he wanted me in his future. As his future. And I would run toward that, not hide and shrink as I’d done so often in my life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Minnie planned what she called an “intimate” engagement party and what I categorized as a blowout. “Since the wedding is small, we have to invite all the people who didn’t get an invitation to the wedding, to the engagement party,” she explained, giving her head a small shake as if the never-ending explanations I required on social etiquette exhausted her.
Small? Three hundred people was small?
The party was held in the ballroom of one of the most opulent hotels in the city and when I walked into the room with Dawson, the scene nearly stole my breath. Flowers spilled from tall glass vases, gold silverware sparkling from the exquisitely set tabletops. A three-piece orchestra played in the corner, and waitstaff in white shirts and black ties passed out hors d’oeuvres from shiny silver platters.
It was perfect. Every flower petal. Every sparkling crystal flute.
Icy drips of panic rolled down my spine.
“Are you all right?” Dawson asked, leaning in, the smile remaining on his face as he spoke between his teeth.
I nodded my head jerkily. “It’s just so beautiful,” I said. “I can hardly speak.”
Dawson leaned away, greeting someone who came up beside him as I took the moment to calm myself. Ever since that day at the café with Carly when I’d told her my story, something had been building inside me, something nebulous and confusing that I kept pushing away so I could focus on the hundreds of wedding errands Minnie kept sending my way. I also had my job, which I still loved, but every day was exhausting.
I mingled and I smiled, the undefined feeling continuing to expand inside of me, growing exponentially bigger when I realized Dawson, who had left my side, was nowhere to be seen. “Karys, would you be a dear and go fetch Dawson for me? The CEO of the biggest bank in the City just arrived.” And then she flitted off, waving at someone across the room. Why did I get the sudden feeling my life would be spent “fetching” things on Minnie’s behalf? I choked out a small cough as my chest grew tighter.
In truth, I was grateful to get away, even for a few minutes. I headed down the empty carpeted hallway toward the men’s room. The door to a lounge stood halfway open and I startled as Dawson came through, his head lowered as he wiped what looked like white powder from his nostrils. I stopped just as he noticed me. “Karys, hey.” He came over and kissed me on the forehead.
“You’re doing drugs, Dawson,” I said.
His shoulders tensed. It appeared he was going to lie but then he let out a breath, wrapping his hand around my wrist and pulling me through the door into the room he’d just been in. I shook his hand free of my arm, stepping away.
“For Christ’s sake, Karys,” he said. “It’s just to take the edge off, okay?” He ran his hand through his hair, leaving it slightly messy. It made him look younger, unusually imperfect. “This wedding . . . and the market’s so damn volatile,” he murmured, slumping forward a little. Confusion made me pause. I didn’t know this version of Dawson. He always seemed so confident, so controlled. My heart softened.
I felt unsure . . . stressed, but I hadn’t once wondered if he felt the same way too. “Is that why you haven’t touched me in weeks?” I asked softly.
He grimaced, giving his head a small shake. “I’m sorry. I’ve let the pressure get to me.” He offered a small smile and there was sweetness in it, the same sweetness I’d first been attracted to. The same sweetness I saw when he’d held up a broken pencil. But his dilated pupils detracted from the effect and added to my turmoil.
I mustered a fleeting smile. “I just . . . need a few minutes. And I think your mother has a lineup of VIPs she wants you to schmooze with.”