Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 31579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 158(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 158(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
He chuckles. "I know you better than you think. I've been watching you for a while now, El."
My heart skips a beat as he leans in again, and I close my eyes, waiting. I can feel his mouth hovering inches away, so close that I could lift my head and close the distance myself. I want to.
Before I can, Drake steps back, smirking a little. I open my eyes, feeling my cheeks flame with heat as he looks me up and down. "Have fun tonight," he says, taking another step away from me. "I'll see you later."
We barely cross paths for the rest of the day, and I watch Drake's icon on my device tracking app and make sure he's out of the hotel room before I go up to change. I'm already regretting my subterfuge to attend the screening, which I don't even care about, but I've set my plans into motion, and I have to follow them through.
Now, I look at myself in the mirror and tug my skirt down my legs, wishing it was longer. The cream-colored sheath dress hugs every inch of my curves, and while it's not exactly revealing, it's much more form-fitting than anything I would usually wear.
I run my fingers through my curls, trying to get them to behave, but that's a losing battle. They're wild, and there's nothing I can do to tame them. I slip my feet into my black heels and take a deep breath, smoothing my hands over my hair one last time before picking up my clutch and heading downstairs.
At this moment, Drake will be starting the demo for NatureCo, so there's no chance I'll run into him on my way to the screening. The thought makes me smile a little. Even though I'm angry with him for the way he treated me earlier, I can't help but be relieved that I'm avoiding him. He already doesn't like me going out alone. He'd be even angrier if he found out I was going to see Claude's documentary.
I walk through the lobby, trying to look as confident as I feel. My heels click on the marble floor as I pass the bar, and I can feel the eyes of several men lingering on me. The thought makes me blush a little, but I ignore them all the same. I'm on a mission. A mission to be an independent, confident woman and to pretend that my every waking thought right now isn't on Drake and how pissed he'd be if he knew what I was doing.
The theater is on the second floor, and I hurry to the elevator while it's still empty. There's someone outside taking names, and just like Claude promised, I'm on the list of special guests. The usher escorts me down to the bottom level, where a portion of the seats are sectioned off for VIPs.
Claude is standing in the center of the VIP area, greeting everyone personally and in a suit that looks much too formal for the event. His eyes light up when he sees me, and he hurries over. "Mademoiselle White," he says, taking my hand and kissing it. "How wonderful to see you."
"Likewise," I reply, taking my hand back as soon as possible and discretely wiping it on my dress. He's so slick. It's off-putting, especially compared to the straightforwardness of Drake.
I don't realize I've thought of his name until Claude speaks again. "It's a shame Mr. Evans couldn't make it."
I give him a tight smile. "He was needed elsewhere."
"Of course." Claude smirks. "We wouldn't want to bore him with a documentary, would we? Mr. Evans seems the easily bored type."
Another dig at Drake’s intelligence. It pisses me off, but I say nothing. It's clear he's baiting me, and I won’t let him win. Instead, I change the subject, asking him about the film. He's all too eager to tell me about it, and were he not so full of himself, it might be impressive. He tells me about the locations, the people he worked with, and the logistics of filming while climbing a dangerous mountain.
Before long, the lights go down, and the film begins. I can’t ignore the feeling that I'm cheating on Drake, even though I know I shouldn't. We aren't a couple. I have every right to be here, watching a movie about climbing, something he has no interest in doing. But still, I feel guilty. Guilty enough to keep my phone face down in my lap so I won't be tempted to check it every two minutes.
The breadth of my mistake becomes even more apparent when Claude takes the seat next to me. There's no reason for us to be so close, but he continues to lean over to try and explain the documentary to me every few minutes. At one point, he puts his hand on my leg, and I almost jump out of my skin, trying to shuffle away.