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I've only seen Caerwyn at the wedding, but he occupies my mind more than I'd like. I'm too busy to be focusing on a man.
"I need to get some work done," I mumble, choosing to put my mind on anything other than Wyn.
Like a crazy person, I joined my sisters in the mad dash to finish planning his birthday party. Luckily, it didn’t require me seeing him, but hearing his name and list of desires for weeks have triggered all the damn dreams.
Sliding out of bed, I go to my bathroom to start my day. I tap on my smart mirror to review my schedule as I brush my teeth.
Last minute party planning with the girls.
Afternoon at the bank
Check on the studio
Home for studying
I would lie to myself and say I’d be less busy once the party is over, but I already know I’d fill that space with something else. My body seems to thrive under pressure. Walking into my closet, I look over the rows of gray, navy, and black clothes until I choose which business outfit I’d like to wear. Can’t go wrong with navy-pinstripe pants and a matching tan scoop-neck shirt with quarter-length sleeves.
One cup of coffee and a raisin bagel with cream cheese later, I’m out the door with my backpack, keys, and cellphone. My phone reads Caerwyn’s specific list as I drive to Karessa’s office. She and Esme usually take care of parties by themselves, but the size of this party and the timeline had them tagging in their baby sister for the more practical things while they worked on the creative side. I don’t give a damn about color schemes, but if the caterer said he will be there at noon, his ass better be there at noon.
It would have been fun having the added challenge of balancing a budget but leave it to Caerwyn to not have one. That’s the issue with the super-rich. We may not need budgets, but we could at least assign one just to determine reasonable expectations. Like just because you can afford a solid gold toilet, doesn’t mean you should get one.
“Three hundred plates of gold mosaic initialed china, one-thousand silver and gold balloons, gold and white chocolate strawberries - three hundred count of each, three hundred and fifty bottles of champagne…”
My voice trails off once I open the door and see the party. Karessa, Esme, Ainslee, and Guinevere. The mood seems light despite Mikonos’ scowl when he glances at the door. I swear that man is only friendly to Ainslee. I don’t know if it’s his job to look mean or if he doesn’t like any of us. It’s not my puzzle, even with him being broodingly sexy, so I continue like he’s not there just as he wants. Speaking to him pisses him off more than not speaking.
“Hey ladies!” I project over their girl chatter.
After a round of hugs, I dive into business as a vendor liaison. Once I’ve triple checked the orders and confirmed arrival times, hours have passed, and I’ve missed everything they’ve said. I’m not too worried because no good tea was spilled while I was occupied. The lull in conversation is what made me zone into what they're doing. Those chatterboxes are never quiet.
“What are y’all doing?”
“Waiting,” Karessa answers, although her eyes are glued to her phone as she texts.
“For what?”
She gives me the smirk she uses when someone asks her information she’s already given. I must have been in my own world.
“Looks like someone went to the magical place inside her head,” Esme jokes as she lifts my ponytail and begins to look in my ear like she can read my secrets.
It doesn’t bother me because she did it when we were children and she was young enough to believe it was possible for me to have a magical portal in my head that transported her to a different world. I’m a reader, but her imagination is a beast which is why she is such a good partner for Karessa. I read to escape, but I like provable things in my reality.
I giggle and swat her. “If you find a portal, let me know.”
“Caerwyn is coming to finalize everything,” Ainslee fills me in, as she bounces from her seat on the counter.
She’s so bubbly, I imagine it’s exhausting. I’m known for my dry sense of humor. I like her nonetheless; she is a fun addition. I’m still trying to figure out her cousin though. She’s polite and cracks a joke or two, but I still don’t have a sense of who she is just yet.
I don’t have time to analyze it since my heart is doing that flutter thing it does just for Caerwyn. He appears the moment my mind rolls over his name, and dammit I wasn’t imagining his sexiness. My break from his beautiful eyes is brief before he slides his shades off his face. He was sexy in shades, but there’s something mesmerizing about seeing his eyes. My eyes eat up his long-sleeve light-blue shirt that’s pushed up at the elbows, navy slacks, and cognac belt and shoes.
His smile makes me wet and a sigh escapes me before I can stop it. He has the same effect on Esme because we glance at each other wondering about our reaction.
My brain zeroes in and doesn’t let up like when other things that motivate me. I don’t want to be bewitched by his sexy smiles, deep voice, and awe-inspiring body. My sex dreams replay as he flirts with the other women. I’m appalled at my low-level jealousy.
Caerwyn moves to Esme and me and studies us. The glint in his eyes informs me that he’s toying with me. He’s pretending we’re hard to decipher because he knows it bothered me at the wedding.
Beautiful asshole.
“You must be Esme, the second LeClaire in charge,” he says to Esme after the awkward beat of silence.
