Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
I square my shoulders. “I guess so.”
He gazes at me with an unreadable expression, then nods, and reaches for the door handle. We get out of the car and head up to the front door. My stomach starts churning as Rhett rings the bell. And now it really is too late to change my mind. A smiling man opens the door and then steps back to let us in. Claudia’s house is everything I expected it to be – she looks like money, and her house reflects that.
The décor is sleek and curated; all glass and chrome furnishings, and dotted throughout with oversized art pieces that probably cost more than my entire apartment. The living room glows under soft lighting. It is filled with the scent of expensive candles and the hum of polite conversation.
Guests swirl in clusters, drink of choice in their hands, and the sound of laughter bounces off the high ceilings. Claudia spots us almost immediately and glides over, her arms outstretched like she is welcoming two old friends rather than two virtual strangers. Tonight, she is draped in red silk instead of green.
“Pippa, Rhett. It’s so great to see you both. I’m so glad you could make it,” she says.
Rhett hands her the bottle of wine he brought. “A little something for your cellar.”
Her smile is wide, but her eyes dart to him with laser precision. “You’re too kind. Now, come, I need to steal you for a moment to ask your advice on a problem I keep encountering in my software. I know you’ve just gotten here, but I want to pick your brains before I get too drunk,” she says with a laugh.
Rhett looks at me with a questioning expression, and smile and nod. “Go ahead. I’ll wander around and admire the paintings.”
And just like that, our host hooks her skinny arm through Rhett’s and whisks him away, leaving me marooned by the hors d’oeuvres table. I reach for a canapé, trying not to look abandoned, when a familiar voice slips into the space beside me.
“Pippa.”
It’s George. Nerves sizzle inside of me as I turn to face him. My little heart skips a beat despite myself. He looks good, as always, but there’s a tension around his eyes tonight, a strain that wasn’t there at the opera.
“George,” I say smoothly. I nibble my canapé as if I haven’t been waiting for this moment all day. “Are you enjoying the party?”
“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?” he says testily. He shoves a hand into his pocket, shifting closer. “Pippa, I … Claudia is … well, she’s Claudia. And she’s great. But seeing you here … it’s confusing. You look incredible, and it’s like … I don’t know what I want anymore. You or her.”
The words hit me like a jolt. My stomach twists, hope surging dangerously. This is it. This is the start of him coming back to me. I just have to nudge him in the right direction, make him see that I am better for him than blonde Claudia. But before I can say anything, a warm hand closes around mine.
“Darling,” Rhett says, materializing at my side, his eyes flicking briefly to George before pinning me with a smile. “Let’s go and grab a drink.”
I barely manage a protest before he’s leading me across the open space in the middle of the room, where a few couples sway lazily to the music. We head into the kitchen, where several of Claudia’s friends are talking to each other. He pours us both a glass of white wine and hands one to me. As I take a sip, one of the women in the group screeches and announces she loves this song. She and her friends rush through to the lounge, leaving Rhett and me alone in the kitchen.
“What were you doing back there? George was just starting to come around,” I whisper fiercely. I am angry, but I can’t be yelling. Not here.
Rhett leans down, his lips brushing my ear as he responds. “Trust me. He needs to pine. To suffer. His capitulation must be total.”
“Capitulation?” I arch a brow. “This isn’t a medieval siege.”
“Isn’t it?” His grin is wicked. “You want him to beg. Anything less and he’ll keep running back and forth, never fully choosing. He has to feel what it’s like to really lose you.”
I’m not sure I agree, but the conviction in his voice is oddly reassuring. And for now, I decide to go with it, because what else can I do? Go and throw myself at George’s feet like a prized offering, because I’m pretty sure I’ve done that already, and been roundly rejected.
So… we drink, we laugh.
And as the night goes on, we dance.
Rhett is an easy partner, confident without being overbearing, his hand steady at my waist, his smile seductive. Somewhere between the third and fourth glass of wine as we spin around the dance floor, which is Claudia’s spacious lounge with the furniture pushed to the sides, I realize I haven’t thought about George in half an hour. Not once. And I don’t think I would be thinking of him now if it wasn’t for the fact that I can see him approaching us. He reaches us, his face taut, and he asks Rhett if he can cut in. I’m startled by a tiny twinge of disappointment when Rhett steps back with a stiff nod.