Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
Every instinct inside of me wants to walk over to him and take him in my arms.
But then I remember that he’s an asshole and I can’t.
I drop my gaze to the floor.
Go back to your table, Olivia, you’re pathetic.
His loud laugh surrounds me. I glance back up to see him greeting a woman. He leans in and kisses her on the cheek. Who’s she?
With a disgusted shake of my head, I go back out into the corridor and make my way around to the other side of the ballroom. I eventually take a seat.
Giorgio smiles over at me. “You all right, darling?”
“I’m fine.”
He passes me my glass of champagne. “I propose a toast.”
“What to this time?”
His eyes dance with delight. “Same as last time.”
“To making men jealous?”
He winks. “Would be such a shame to be in that dress and not make a man jealous, don’t you think?”
I smirk. “What exactly are you talking about, Giorgio?”
He leans in and kisses my cheek. “I know that you have men circling this table watching you. Use it to your advantage.”
I don’t know what he’s up to, but I like his thinking. “Perhaps you’re right. Why don’t you introduce me to some of your friends?”
He pushes his chair back with a big smile and holds his hand out to mine.
“This way, darling.” Giorgio leads me through the crowded ballroom and over to the bar where a group of five men stand. “Gentlemen, may I introduce Olivia Reynolds. I adore her. She recently started with Valentino and is new to Milan.”
“Hello.” They all smile, and one by one they introduce themselves and kiss me on the cheek. They’re all breaking their neck as they try to talk to me, and we fall into a conversation about my work and where I’m from. They’re all similar ages to me, and quite good looking, too. Perhaps it’s the black dinner suits talking.
Can any man be ugly in a dinner suit? I don’t think so.
Giorgio gives me a not so subtle wink before he discretely moves to the bar.
Snake. I’ll kill him later.
For ten minutes, I stand and talk politely. One man in particular named Pedro has taken a liking to me.
The group falls silent, and I glance up from Pedro to see Enrico has approached the group. “Enrico, my friend,” one of the men greets him nervously.
They all shake his hand, while I sip my champagne. His eyes eventually find mine. “Hello, Olivia.”
“Hello.”
The men’s eyes all widen as they look between us, realizing we know each other.
I try to talk to Pedro again but Enrico holds his gaze across the circle, and Pedro becomes flustered. “I’m going to the bar,” he announces suddenly.
“Yes, I’ll come,” offers another man.
“Yes, I need to get back to my table,” someone else mutters.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” another says.
Suddenly, I’m left alone with Rico. Wimps.
Enrico steps toward me. “Hello.” His voice is velvety and deep.
I squeeze my champagne glass so tight that it may smash in my hand.
His eyes drop down my body, and then back up to my face. “You look breathtaking.”
My stomach clenches. “Thanks.”
“I wanted to talk to you.”
“About what?”
“Many things.”
That damn electricity crackles in the air between us again.
“You asked me yesterday why I left you in the police station two years ago,” he says quietly.
My heart stops. “Yes.”
He opens his mouth to speak.
“Here you are.” Giorgio smiles. “Rico, darling, it’s been too long, my friend. Where have you been hiding?” He grabs Rico’s hand and kisses him on both cheeks. They hug.
“You’re interrupting us,” Enrico tells Giorgio as his eyes come back to mine.
“What’s new? I’m always interrupting you.” Giorgio laughs, and I can tell he and Enrico are friends. He isn’t scared of him like the other men are. “Olivia, our entrees are at our table, sweetheart.” He pulls me by the hand. “Goodbye, Rico, we shall talk later, darling.”
Giorgio pulls me back to our table, and I glance back to see Enrico glaring after us, unimpressed that I’ve left our conversation unfinished. Damn it, I wanted to know what he was going to say. Not that it would make any difference, but still.
We take a seat, and Giorgio smiles over at me like the cat that got the cream.
“Our entrees aren’t at the table.” I smirk. I’m not discussing Enrico Ferrara with him, but I have sneaking suspicion that he already knows.
Giorgio’s eyes hold mine. “How many times do we need to toast before I teach you the lesson, Olivia?”
“Am I a bad student?” I smile and raise my glass to his.
“The worst.”
Three hours later, I spin around on the dancefloor with Giorgio.
“Thank you for bringing me tonight, I’ve had fun.” I’m not lying, either. We’ve laughed and talked. I’ve met a lot of new people, and it has honestly been fun.
“The formalities are over now. Shall we go soon?” he asks.