Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 75107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
When I paid attention, I found he was right.
“So, do you think if we go over there and say Vega said he would make a generous donation, that it would work in our favor?”
Only one way to find out.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Venezio
She was killing it.
Once she had a drink or two in her, Steph loosened right up and lost all the uncertainty she’d been racked with when we’d first stepped into the ballroom.
All those long days begging people to open up their wallets and give at least some spare change had prepared her for the discomfort of having to talk to rich strangers to do the same.
Her friends had been right; everyone in the room had deep pockets and slightly guilty consciences. They were all happy to write her a check right then and there or give her their personal numbers to call and remind them the following day.
I had been right about Vega.
Her new boss had been disinterested. Until Steph name-dropped Vega. The second she did, his face changed. And then he was handing her a business card and pledging a staggering seventy-five grand. Steph was supposed to call his assistant in the morning, who would be instructed to personally deliver the check to the charity.
“I’m losing track,” Steph admitted as I pulled out her chair when it was time for the food.
“I’m not,” I promised her. If there was one thing I was good at, it was keeping track of money on the fly. I had a whole fucking ledger going on in my head.
I would have given her the total if our table didn’t start to fill up. I didn’t know much about the elite class, but I did know that money talk was generally considered rude.
Instead, we sat and listened to shop talk about upcoming high-profile cases and where everyone was going for the holiday while we ate a four-course meal that neither of us seemed to enjoy.
As if reading my thoughts, Steph’s head turned, her lips close enough to tease my ear as she spoke. “I’d take a greasy slice of pizza over this any day.”
The food was removed, and the singer came back to join the band, crooning a romantic Christmas song I didn’t recognize.
Couples made their way to the dance floor.
“Come on, guys,” Andy said as Sammy took her hand to lead her to join the others.
“We don’t have to,” Steph was quick to assure me.
I wouldn’t claim to be a great dancer. But any idiot could do a slow dance.
I stood, pulling out Stephanie’s chair, then offering her my arm.
Her cheeks flushed, but she slid her arm through mine and let me lead her to the center of the dance floor.
I pulled her in, her soft body against mine, the silky dress doing nothing to hide her body heat from me as her breasts crushed to my chest and her hand took mine.
Taking advantage of the moment, I pressed my hand more firmly against her lower back, pulling her closer until our bodies were melded together as we started to move.
There was a second where she tensed.
Then she was putty in my arms.
One song melted into another, even slower, one. Even the couples that had been keeping it casual drew closer to each other.
Seemingly caught in the moment, Steph rested her head on my chest.
And I swear to fuck, something just felt like it snapped into place.
I had no idea what the hell that meant, but I did know that something about this moment, about her in my arms, felt right.
As the song dragged on, Stephanie’s breathing got quicker, more shallow. When my hand shifted up slightly, she tried to muffle a little whimper against my chest.
Up that close, though, there was no mistaking the sound.
I already wanted her.
The closeness had the need ratcheting up until it felt like fucking gasoline in my veins. The sound lit the match.
I’d moved us to the edge of the dance floor by the time the song ended.
“I need some air,” Stephanie, pink-cheeked and heavy-lidded, said, fanning her face. When we both knew the ballroom was just shy of cool, and that any heat she felt had nothing to do with the temperature of the room.
She made her way out of one of the side doors and into the abandoned hallway.
Her head was on a swivel until she spotted a family bathroom and made a beeline for it.
I stood out in the hallway, listening to the music get faster as the laughter and conversation grew louder by the moment as everyone got drunker.
I gave Steph a solid five minutes before the ache in my balls just refused to ease, leaving me knocking on the door.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” she called, likely thinking it was another woman looking for a chance to freshen up, sit on the lounge, and slip her feet out of her shoes.