Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
His gaze scanned the room, and I took another sip of my drink. I was fairly certain it was helping my nerves. Saxon had been right.
“See that man talking to my dad?” he asked me.
I looked over to where his father was standing with an older gentleman with a balding head and glasses. “Yes,” I replied.
“That’s probably going to be our next president—if the people in this room have anything to do with it, which they normally do,” he said in a low whisper.
I studied the man closer, wondering if Saxon was right. Could these people truly have the power to place a man in the most important political rank in the US? I wanted to ask him how they could do that, but as I was turning my gaze back to Saxon, they found someone else.
The sight of Blaise Hughes in a tuxedo wasn’t exactly fair to the female population. His hair was pulled back tightly in a ponytail. There were no loose strands of hair that had broken free tonight. I’d never seen him without his cowboy hat. His jawline wasn’t freshly shaven though. It was a small defiance that didn’t surprise me. I doubted he wanted to be here. From the little I knew of him, he didn’t like to be near his father, and Saxon had pointed out Garrett Hughes to me earlier.
It was then that his green eyes met mine. I didn’t like him. I was almost sure I hated him. However, my female parts weren’t on board with those feelings. At least not completely. Neither was my stomach. It felt weird, and I wasn’t sure why. Other than that he was possibly the hottest man in this room. Which was frustrating and incredibly shallow of me.
His gaze traveled down my body slowly. Then, as if he was done and not at all impressed, he shifted his attention elsewhere. I didn’t allow myself to follow him as he moved through the crowd. Even if I wanted to.
“I didn’t think Blaise would come to one of these events,” I said aloud before I could stop myself.
Saxon lifted a glass to his lips, and a serious expression crossed his face. After he took a drink, he replied, “He’s expected.”
And that was it. Nothing more.
“Is Trev expected to?” I asked him.
I hadn’t seen Trev in the twenty minutes we had been here.
“He’s here. Somewhere. He’ll eventually show up.” Saxon then cut his eyes in my direction. “Want to go see the view from the balcony?”
That sounded like an escape, and I was on board for one of those. I nodded my head, and Saxon waved his hand toward the entrance we had come in. I followed him as he made his way through the crowd, only stopping to take two more glasses of champagne while moving toward the glass doors that overlooked the city.
He held the door open for me, then handed me another full glass. I finished the one I was already holding, then placed it on a high table as we walked over to stand away from the doors and the two other couples talking out here.
“What exactly is this for?” I asked Saxon.
Melanie had told me we were going to a charity event, but nothing more. She had been very focused on my hair, makeup, and clothing. I’d even been given a brief etiquette lesson on speaking, eating, and carrying myself tonight. The stress of it all had me missing my home, even more than I already had.
“The gala?” he asked me, glancing back over his shoulder at the party going on inside.
“Yes,” I replied.
He smirked. “This one is to raise money for scholarships—locally, of course—given by the Horse Racing Commission to those who are underprivileged but show promise. Or something of that nature. You’ll realize that the events or galas are mostly a way for the powers that be to do business. Sure, they raise money, but it’s more than that.” He stopped talking then and took a drink. “I believe the next one is the annual masked ball, which raises money for the Red Cross. It’s one of the few I enjoy.”
I hadn’t realized they did this often. I started to ask him how many they did when an arm wrapped around my shoulders.
“Damn, you look smoking hot,” Trevor’s familiar voice said close to my ear.
“And there he is,” Saxon said in an amused tone.
“Were you looking for me?” Trev asked as his eyes met mine.
Like Saxon, Trevor looked older in a tuxedo. More sophisticated.
“I was curious if you, too, were made to attend these things,” I replied, not wanting to give him the wrong idea.
A corner of his mouth lifted. “Unfortunately, it’s a must. How are you enjoying your first elitist private party?” he asked me, then took a drink of a darker liquid in a glass. It smelled like whiskey.