Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 129027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
But glasses are still clinking and conversations are winding down when a blonde woman at the other end of the table suddenly stands up dramatically, her chair screeching back loudly on the polished granite tile.
She’s in a shimmering gold dress that hugs her body, and the low-cut bodice exposing ample cleavage heaves as she calls out, “I object!”
All heads in the room swivel her way, and a woman I can only guess to be her mother grabs her arm in a futile attempt to yank her back down into her seat.
The blonde fights her off. “I object to this engagement!” she passionately cries again, dancing back from the table and her desperately grasping mother.
“Drew,” she pleads. “Tell them. Tell them it’s me you love. Not her.” She flings a hand out in Kira’s direction.
I can only see the back of Drew’s head from where I’m standing, but he makes no move to even look over at the woman. Kira’s head twists back and forth from the blonde to Drew.
Several men get up from the table and start walking toward the woman. Family? Friends? Or simply friends of the senator?
She holds her hands out and backs away from them.
“Drew, please,” she pleads to the man who still won’t even look her direction. “We could be happy together. I know we could.”
One of the men approaching her signals a security guard staffing the exits. He nods and advances from behind. “I’m going to need to escort you out, ma’am.”
She spins on him, blonde hair flying. “What are you talking about? I have an invitation.” Her hair whirls again as she turns back. “Drew! Tell them!”
“Ma’am. I need you to please come with me.”
Another security officer is at her other side. When he attempts to take her by her arm, she starts to freak, lashing out with her manicured nails. The security officer catches her arm before her claws get to his face.
“Drew!” she shrieks hysterically as the security officer pins her arm behind her back. “Drew! You told me you’re not even attracted to her! How are you going to give your father grandchildren when you can’t even fuck her?!”
Drew finally reacts, bolting upright from his chair, chest heaving as the guards forcibly escort the woman from the ballroom. She keeps screaming and crying the whole way. When she starts howling, “I’ll kill you! I’ll fucking kill you, bitch!” right before the doors close behind her, Kira looks behind her and makes eye contact with me.
I nod, already on the same page. Have we been thinking about her stalker in the wrong way? I would chase after the guards and the woman to interrogate her, except there’s no way I’m leaving Kira alone.
Kira’s attention moves back to the table and, infuriatingly, to Drew. She reaches out and grasps his hands, tugging him to sit back down again.
As if she’s comforting him.
I obviously don’t understand what the fuck sort of agreement they have between them because any woman from the trailer park where I grew up would’ve slapped her man after an outburst from another woman, then made a great show of stomping off the scene.
But Kira just looks around the table and laughs lightly. For once in the entire evening, the room is silent, and the rich texture of her laugh echoes around the room.
“Well, that was a whole lot of excitement for one evening, I think,” she says demurely. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like for my fiancé to escort me to my car. We’ve planned our gorgeous wedding, but the schedule is nonstop for the next eight weeks, you understand.”
Then she leans over, kisses Drew on the cheek, and says, “Come on, honey.”
She stands up, still holding his hands, and Drew moves almost robotically to follow her lead. He finally manages to smile, as if remembering only at the last minute, and waves to the table.
Kira folds her arm into his and they walk together out of the room. She looks as tall and elegant as a queen as she goes. Fucking stunning, in control of every eye in the room.
I follow her out, even as I hear the room burst out into chatter as the doors close behind us.
Drew immediately turns to Kira as soon as they reach the huge stone hallway; every bit of this mansion looks like something out of a museum.
“I’m so fucking sorry for that, babe. I told her it was nothing serious.”
Kira winces, and I want to punch his fucking teeth in. It’s a strain to stay against the wall and remain unobtrusive while they have whatever tête-à-tête a couple could have after that disaster.
“We agreed you could do whatever you want,” Kira whispers. “But did it have to be with Becca Summers? Jesus, Drew. What were you thinking?”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. She was just there, available and spreading her legs.”