Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 103(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 103(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
Oak & Pine described itself as the country club for New York's up-and-coming, and most of its members were from nouveau riche human families. What in the hell was she doing at a place that catered to the city's most pretentious?
I STEP OUT OF MY UBER, and I immediately feel like someone's staring at me.
Stop it, Cat. Just stop it!
Mavis is supposed to be having a business dinner with prospective investors, and I can't let my past distract me from bringing my A-game.
It's my first time to visit Oak & Pine, and its rowhouse-like facade is charmingly deceptive, since it's the kind of club that calls itself 'woke' without actually understanding what it means. They don't offer parking space to discourage use of private vehicles, but they don't see anything wrong from having rooftop helipads for their VIPs' emergency use.
I walk up the steps, and security clears me for entry. When I reach the function room where Mavis is hosting her business dinner, I hear laughter tinkling from the other side of the door, but I know I've been lied to as soon as I go in and find a couple of familiar faces among her guests.
Investors, huh?
This looks more like a cadre of interrogators from where I'm standing.
Mavis moves forward with a smile. "Thank you for coming at short notice, dear. I believe we have some mutual friends?"
'Friend' isn't exactly what I'd call Jessica and her pals, since they were one of the first people to resort to gaslighting when I accused the most popular guy in our high school for killing my cat.
Since Mavis is at least a decade older than us, I can't help feeling curious at how these two have met, and the truth comes out as soon as we take our seats, and I'm lucky to be placed next to the ever-so-talkative Vicky chatters.
She used to be everyone's favorite gossip girl, and it's clear after a few minutes that this part of her hasn't changed.
Vicky needs little prodding before telling me about how Mavis and Jessica go to the same mega church in Tribeca, and that I only ended up scoring an impromptu invite to tonight's dinner when the VP let slip about my encounter with Night Bloom's King.
"Are you secretly dating him?" Jessica asks. "And does the King know you're That Girl?"
I smile and change the subject, and I do the same thing when another old "friend" asks how I am...while making a subtle dig at my past.
"Pets are cute and all, but they're nothing compared to a child you give birth to. We're
not getting any younger, Cat. You should try having a baby before it's too late."
I keep smiling and changing the subject, and although it does take a while, my closemouthed ways eventually annoy everyone, and a stiff-looking Mavis decides to punish me for spoiling their fun.
"There's a pop-up booth by the poolside that sells amazing charcoal coffee," Maeve says sotto voce as she pulls me aside. "Be a dear and find a way to order some coffee for everyone here."
"Sure thing." I have a feeling she thinks I'm going to find this errand demeaning, but I'm just glad to have a reason to leave before I end up saying something I'd totally regret.
I excuse myself from the room, and the door hasn't even fully shut closed when they start talking about me.
'I told you, didn't I? That Girl couldn't be dating the King.'
'I've always thought she was overreacting about the cat thing. It wasn't like Julius meant to kill it, you know? People make mistakes.'
'I know, right? Who would ruin a person's life for a cat's?'
It's funny how these people act like I have no life to speak of...but never seem to tire of talking about Chester and me even after all these years.
Whatever.
If that's what makes them happy, then to each their own.
I turn to leave, but it's my soul that almost leaves my body when I almost end up crashing into Night Bloom's King.
Again.
One encounter with the King is a rarity, but twice in one day is more like an omen than a coincidence, and goosebumps pop all over my skin as he stares down at puny little me from his great, great height of six-foot-six.
"We meet again, Ms. Bonde."
"S-Sir." The word comes out in a croak. I can't help feeling like I'm about to be swallowed whole with the way he's gazing at me, and it doesn't help at all that the wall sconces have made the King glow like the eeriest and most preternaturally gorgeous...boogeyman.
"Leaving so soon?"
His tone is courteous, but his gaze cryptic, and since neither gives me a clue on whether it's 'yes' or 'no' that's more likely to get myself killed—-
"I...might be?"
"Without getting them coffee?"
Screw me. Screw me. Screw me.
He's obviously heard everything, and I'm so, so screwed because I still can't tell what the King wants to hear from me.