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Long, sleek limbs, silky dark hair, and the kind of features that could stand out on a pitch-dark night, Sophie Sage is unmistakable.
My eyes know her, and my body certainly remembers her.
Can’t seem to forget about her, actually.
I wasn’t in charge of the invitations—one of the assistants in my promotional firm was—but damn if I don’t get one hell of a thrill out of the coincidence that Sophie was part of the list.
She did mention that she’s an event planner on our date, but I didn’t connect the dots to this event.
I smile. Tonight’s shaping up to be even better than I thought it’d be.
After one last, long look at Sophie, I tear my eyes away from her wildly sexy body and stunning face and make myself re-home in on my original target. Because the fact remains that I have a job to do tonight, first and foremost, and then I can move on to pleasure.
For now, I’ll keep an eye on the lady in red and repeat to myself that good things come to those who wait.
Sophie
Event planners are in hog heaven all around me, chowing down on food, guzzling endless drinks, dancing like they’re set to star in the remake of Dirty Dancing, and losing their ever-loving minds. These are literally the who’s who of private event planning, some of them having been involved in celebrity weddings, state dinners at the White House, and even one guy who’s best known for running all the setup for New York Fashion Week! Honestly, if I weren’t freaking out so much about the seriously delusional fantasy of Jude seeing me and having some sort of ultra-swoony explanation for his disappearance that got me here, I might actually be in awe.
But the fact is I am wigging out while some of my biggest idols are getting their freak on like this is happy hour at spring break, and Jude, for the love of everything, hasn’t even fucking noticed I exist.
Coming here was definitely not a good idea.
I scour the room again, passing right over Cara Ming, one of the top wedding planners in the world, while she drops it like it’s hot to Snoop, and zero in on the man in the suit.
Just as I remembered, Jude looks every bit as handsome and self-assured as I’d expect a man of his credentials to be. He smiles easily, he’s charismatic, and for lack of a better description, he works the room like a whore on a popular street corner.
They’re all eating out of his hand, and by all appearances, the event is a great success.
“Excuse me,” a man calls from beside me, startling my attention away from Jude and up to him. “Is this seat taken?” he asks, pointing to the spot directly next to me.
His dark hair, dark eyes, tanned skin, and trimmed beard are undoubtedly noteworthy, and I try my best to close off my stupid running mind so I can give him all my attention. I mean, there’s a reason they say tall, dark, and handsome, right?
I don’t need Jude’s light hair and bright eyes. I need mystery. Yeah, that’s it.
“No,” I finally answer. “Please, sit.”
He smiles, the look transforming his face from Mafia Boss Kingpin to Man Next Door, and I shift in my seat.
Once situated at my side, he sticks out a hand for me to take and introduces himself. “Hi. I’m Bennett Nickelson. What’s your name?”
I smile, trying my best to leave the awkward pressure of meeting someone for the first time behind and just converse like a normal human being. “Sophie,” I say. “Sophie Sage.”
Well, so much for not being weird. I sound like 007, for shit’s sake.
Nevertheless, Bennett smiles. “Nice to meet you, Sophie. I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling a little out of my league tonight. Some big names here.”
I nod. “I know.”
“I’m not even sure why I got the invitation.”
Oh. I know how I got mine. Ha.
Secret embarrassment flushes my cheeks pink, so I turn away briefly to save myself from exposing that to him. Almost without my permission, my gaze immediately snags on Jude.
He’s smiling broadly, in the middle of an exchange with several different women at once, all of them hanging off him like he’s a damn pull-up bar.
My stomach twists—the traitor—and the urge to get the hell out of here overwhelms me. What was I thinking coming here? He fuck and snuck, right out of my apartment like a bandit in the night. And he didn’t even give me the decency of a goodbye. There’s no coming back from that.
Pushing quickly to standing, I manage only a hasty glance over my shoulder at a startled Bennett. “I’m sorry,” I say, already in a near-run off the platform and toward the front door. “I have to go. Nice meeting you!”
