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Ginny had frozen too, and then she seemed to shake herself. Her masks flew into place, and she took a step toward him—and collided with a waiter carrying a full tray of sea bass and tomato canapés.
Parading the Cowboy Billionaire Chapter Two:
Virginia Winters had ruined many dresses in her lifetime. None as spectacularly and as publicly as the Victoria James gown she currently wore. She never wore a formal dress more than once, but that didn’t mean she wanted tomatoes, balsamic, and fish juice embedded in the lace.
She certainly didn’t want it to happen in front of anyone, least of all Cayden Chappell, who now loomed above her as if he’d sprinted across the drawing room to be there for her when she first opened her eyes and realized what had happened.
What had happened was that she’d been so entranced by his presence that she hadn’t looked at anyone or anything but him. She’d run into a waiter carrying a full tray of canapés, causing both of them to tumble to the floor. She’d shown too much leg to everyone within the near vicinity, and she’d ruined her twenty-thousand-dollar dress.
Her hair brushed her face, and she realized she’d ruined that too. Embarrassment heated her whole body, and she watched Cayden’s mouth move but no sound come out. Around her, everyone seemed to be looking at her with equally alarmed expressions, and Ginny wanted to tell them to back up and let her breathe.
Cayden reached out and touched her face, brushing that errant hair back. “…can you hear me?” Cayden’s voice finally broke through the haze in her mind.
“Yes,” she said, and sound rushed at her from every side. She couldn’t grasp onto any one thought, and her mind raced through what she should do now. Change her clothes and come back to the party? Call it a night?
Just get out of here, she thought, and when Cayden asked, “Can I help you up, Ginny?” she put her hand in his, sparks flying up her arm and into her shoulder.
She looked at him, and so much was said between them. Her chest pinched, though, because he hadn’t called.
She managed to get to her feet, pull down her dress, and wipe back her hair.
“Which door?” Cayden asked her, his voice low and meant only for her. She could still hear her name coming from his mouth, and he’d spoken it with a great deal of care.
“Straight ahead,” she said, nodding to the door dozens of paces away. If she could just make it there, she could figure out what to do. “I’m sorry,” she tossed over her shoulder to the waiter still trying to clean up the things she’d spilled.
Cayden kept the pace brisk, and Ginny pushed to keep up with him. “I feel so stupid,” she muttered, the feeling intensifying when he didn’t answer. Maybe he hadn’t heard her.
Yeah, she thought dryly.Like all those times you thought that maybe he’d forgotten your phone number.
Or that he’d gotten a new phone.
Then had a complete memory lapse and couldn’t remember where she lived and worked.
In her most desperate moments, she’d even started to think he’d been in a terrible accident and was in a coma in a nearby hospital.
Anything to not have to face the fact that he’d kissed her, wished her well on vacation, and then dropped her without another word.
He twisted the doorknob and let her go through first. Ginny immediately kicked off her heels, because one of her ankles was throbbing from her fall. Her palms stung, and everything felt out of place.
She made it to a small settee from the 1600s that had been reupholstered in the ugliest fabric on the planet. Her mother loved it, but Ginny did not, so it got stuck in here. If Mother wanted it, she should take it to the mansion where she lived alone.
Ginny was so tired of being alone.
Her emotions stormed, and before she could contain it, a sob wrenched itself from her throat. She lifted her foot to her knee and started massaging her ankle, though it wasn’t hurt that badly.
“Ginny,” Cayden said. “Can I get you anything? A drink. Some medication.” He actually looked around like this storage room would have anything like that. It didn’t look like a storage room, so she could understand his desire, she supposed.
“No,” she said, looking down at her stained dress. The scent of fish hit her squarely in the nose, and a fresh wave of tears got triggered.
“Sweetheart,” he said softly, coming closer to her.
“Don’t you dare call me that,” she said, lifting her eyes to his. She was so tired of being so proper all the time. She wanted to rage and scream. She wanted to tell him what she really thought of his behavior. Then, she wanted to eat ice cream and tell her dogs all about it, probably while she cried.
She stood, raising herself to her full height, though she was nowhere near as tall as him. “You have a lot of nerve, Mister Chappell, coming here.”
“I got an invitation for this event.”
“You never called.” She folded her arms and fixed him with a hard stare.
