Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 275(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 275(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
As soon as I walked through massive entrance to their home, Steve and Marla Hampton greeted me warmly.
“I’m Eleanor Lawrence from the Chronicle,” I said. “Thank you for the invite. Your home is lovely.”
“I love your columns,” Steve said. “I’m with you on formation of that special taxing district downtown.”
Marla’s gaze went straight to my bare ring finger. “Are you single? You should meet our son Darrell.”
“Let the poor thing get in the door before you start trying to play matchmaker,” Steve said gently.
“It’s okay,” I said, laughing.
“He’s thirty-four,” Marla said. “I don’t miss a chance to introduce him to smart, beautiful, and single women.”
“You’re very kind,” I said, hoping to avoid meeting the man Carly had warned me about.
“You can drop your coat right over there if you need to,” Steve said, pointing to a room on the left.
I took my shawl off and checked it with the attendant at the coatroom before making my way to the ballroom, grabbing a glass of champagne from a tray as soon as I walked in.
The masks were fun, but if I knew anyone at this party, I wouldn’t recognize them. It would probably be a couple hours of awkward socializing before I ducked out to go home and watch a movie with Luke.
My dress was open in the back, all the way down to my waist, and when I felt fingertips lightly brushing over my bare skin, my spine stiffened.
“I’d recognize that mangled toe anywhere,” a deep voice said from next to me.
I inhaled sharply, recognizing the voice as Ford’s. When I glanced over and up at him, my heart raced with excitement. I hadn’t even considered I’d run into my hot, overly confident neighbor at this event.
Damn, did he look incredible in his tuxedo. It fit him perfectly, emphasizing his trim waist and broad shoulders. His mask was basic black and he wore a Colorado Coyotes pin on the lapel of his jacket.
“My jackass neighbor dropped a couch on my toe,” I said lightly.
“Bastard.”
A smile played on my lips. “What are you doing here?”
“Representing my team. Mila’s here somewhere. What about you?”
“Representing the Chronicle.”
He glanced over at me. “You look incredible.”
“Thanks. It’s the dress. I call it Old Faithful.”
He scoffed softly. “It’s not just the dress. And your toe has to hurt in those shoes.”
“Yeah, I didn’t think Crocs would work with the dress, though.”
“Crocs would have been badass.”
I burst out laughing just as a server approached with a tray of appetizers.
“You’ve come to the right place, sir,” Ford said warmly. “I’m just gonna load up on a few of these.”
He stacked four tooth-picked squares of meat and cheese in his palm and I grabbed one for myself.
“Hungry?” I asked wryly.
“Starving.”
He paused before eating the first of his snacks. “Do you come to these things often?”
I shrugged. “I wouldn’t say often. Occasionally I get asked if none of the higher-ups can make it.”
A small orchestra started playing music and a few couples made their way out onto the dance floor. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, restless. I wanted to throw myself into Ford’s arms and run away from him in equal measure. It was one thing to lust after him from the privacy of his patio, but we were under scrutiny here. I’d spent my life being careful, knowing someone was always watching. Most people thought being born into a privileged family just meant you had more money and opportunity, but for me, it also meant representing my family with every move I made.
Ford quickly finished his snacks and then held a hand out to me in a silent invitation to dance. My pulse pounded as I looked from his hand to his eyes.
“We can’t,” I murmured.
I was surprised he’d even asked. What would Mila Pavlova, the team owner of the Coyotes, say if she saw him dancing with me?
I cringed inwardly as I realized what that would look like to her. She’d probably slap him on the back and tell him to keep up the good work of charming me. That was exactly what was happening here, and I’d been a fool to assume otherwise.
Ford wanted to get into my good graces so he could try to sway me over to his side. Fuck me into not writing more columns about my opposition to the new arena.
It wouldn’t work, of course, but he didn’t know that.
“I don’t care what anyone says,” he said smoothly. “Besides, we’ve got masks on.”
I grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing server, suddenly eager to get away from him.
“I have to go mingle,” I said. “That’s why I’m here. It was good to see you, Ford.”
Even with the mask, I could see the confusion in his eyes as I walked away. He’d assumed he could sweep me off my feet and have me in his bed before the night was over.