Page 3 of The Cost of Love

“You want honesty?” His eyebrows quirk up.

“Always.” I roll my shoulders back, bracing myself for what is going to come next.

Tilting his head down, he rubs a thumb across his bottom lip. “You are the complete opposite of everything I am, and that intrigues me.” His eyes roam up and down my body as if taking in the fact that what he is saying is true.

After all, it is easy to see that I’m the fat, Black, poor woman to his white, muscular, rich self.

“It also doesn’t hurt that you are stunning.”

I want to laugh at that, but my mind is too busy racing. Do I want to be some experiment for some wealthy, bored man? What would I get out of it? Maybe sex. Definitely a free meal. At least he seems to be a decent person.

“Okay,” I say, meeting his gaze again.

“Yeah?”

I pull my phone out of my pocket to exchange numbers with him. He puts his full name in, and my eyes snag on it. Alexander Whitmore. He sounds expensive. More expensive than Chanice Jones.

When I hand him back his phone, his fingers linger on my own, grazing against my knuckle. A shiver slides up my arm from the point of contact, dotting me in goosebumps.

“I’ll text you,” he says, and then turns to leave, stealing one last glance before he exits.

I wait for the door to close before I release the breath I’ve been holding in. My lungs constrict with the effort to expand against the growing panic at what I just did.

Chapter 2

Alex

Entering the hall from the kitchen is like waking up from a dream. The reality of who I am and why I’m here comes back into focus, now that I’m away from the woman who gives me the possibility of being in another world. What are the chances that I would see someone that I actually want at this gala? Leave it to me to seek out the most unexpected option.

All night, women have been throwing themselves at me, and I happen to go for the person working the event. I can’t help it, though. When she scoffed, she drew my attention and held it the rest of the night. Still, I am back in London for less than a week, and I’m already starting to create a scandal. What would my mother think?

I unbutton my suit jacket as I slide into my seat. Carter looks at me from the corner of his eye, the question mark clear in his nod. I wink, letting him know that I am likely up to no good. With a sigh, he turns and starts talking to the woman next to him.

Unlike me, he actually likes all the attention the debutantes and heiresses rain down on him. Always quick to hop in and out of “relationships” with them; he is on the prowl for his next one. The suitable-wife talk didn’t go over better with him than the one I got when I turned thirty. No longer permitted to roam and play with whoever we are attracted to, it was made very clear who we are meant to marry. While I abstain, he dabbles.

Elizabeth, the woman seated to my left, is that exact type of woman. Already, she has made it known that she is interested if I am. Too bad I am not. Still, it doesn’t stop her from trying.

“What are you doing after this?” she asks me, ivory fingers tracing the lapel of my jacket.

Facing her, I am met with eyes reminiscent of a cloudless sky in the middle of summer. They shine with the want laid bare in the way she smiles at me with perfect teeth. Chanice has a gap. A beautiful parting in the middle. A small detail that adds to the unique quality of her. Elizabeth, on the other hand, is a generic copy of every woman I have ever grown up with. She is tailored and put together, emitting an air of superiority.

Twice tonight, she has already made comments that iterate the idea that she thinks she is better than most people. All because she is a Blackmore. Her prestigious education and impressive career lead her to believe that she somehow earned the life she lives enough so that she can judge other people not in the same situation. Like all the women put before me, she was bred and raised to be a shining example of privilege.

It is all off-putting. The idea that we will get together and continue with this lineage makes me want to run away. Again. Unfortunately, this time my responsibilities will follow me. Where I am now is not where I was when I left for France after finishing school. I was called home to take up the mantle, and whether I want it or not, it will trail behind me waiting to be acknowledged.

That doesn’t mean I have to do it on their terms.

Placing her hand back on the table, I give her the best smile I can muster. “I am getting a drink with Carter.”

“I’ll join. I need a good Scotch after tonight.” She tucks a piece of her red hair behind her ear, showing off the stunning diamonds in it.

They perfectly match the jewelry accentuating her neck and wrists. All of it is meant to highlight the white dress she is wearing, perfectly made for her body. She does look good, I will give her that. Any other day, it might have been enough to persuade me to stay in her company and see if depth exists underneath her pristine surface. But after meeting someone whose eyes speak of oceans waiting to be explored, I don’t know if I want to dally in a kiddie pool.

“We are going to a men’s club.”

“Next time, then,” she says, turning to face the table.

She is in a few circles I am meant to frequent. I’m sure she thinks there will be a time when we will be in each other’s company again, and I will say yes. The idea that this game of avoidance will continue has me pinching the bridge of my nose between my fingers. I’m over this life, and this is the first appearance I have made. Carter must sense my weariness, because he leans into me.