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She rattles on while I pretend to listen. Well, what I’m really doing is planning my escape. I already know how this night is going to go. Dinner starts at seven, so I’ll have to suffer through it. With any luck, I can sneak away after dessert, claiming a headache. Tomorrow, if Jasmine and I meet for brunch, I will beg for forgiveness, and then we’ll part on good terms. That’s the way it’s gone the last few times I’ve been in town.
“I need to greet the Governor and his wife. Will you be okay on your own until dinner? You’re at my table.”
See? In what world would I ever be friends with the Governor?
“I’ll be fine.”
Because I’m going to slip into a bathroom and hide out until dinner starts. She gives me two air kisses and rushes across the room. I wait a beat before making my way toward the hallway, keeping my eyes downcast so I don’t accidentally make eye contact with someone and then have to make polite conversation.
Just as I’m almost to my destination, I run smack into a very hard body.
“I’m so sorry.” I apologize until I look up and see who I’ve run into.
Jafar glares down at me since he’s nearly a foot taller than me, his green eyes glinting with anger. His beard is fuller than when I saw him last, and it makes him look even more wild and untamed. His full lips are turned downward in a frown. But the thing I notice the most? Is how his black suit clings to the muscles of his arms, chest, and legs. God, how does this man make all black look so freaking good?
“Ah, little mouse. I heard Jasmine was inviting you. Off to steal something?”
His deep accented voice does things to me, and I hate him for it.
I’m the one glaring now. “Don’t call me that. And, for your information, I’m on my way to the bathroom.”
I don’t know where he came up with the nickname, but I dislike it. Almost as much as I dislike him.
His gaze rakes over me. “I’m happy to see that my wife listened to my suggestion.”
“What does that mean?”
“She wanted you to wear a ballgown. I pointed out that you wouldn’t be able to steal anything in this one.”
Hurt spears me. Did he really say that to Jasmine? She wouldn’t ever tell me, but something in his tone makes me think the conversation happened just as he says. Now that I think about it, even when he’s being cruel, he’s never lied to me, which means he’s telling the truth. My stomach sours, but I’m not going to let him know that he’s getting to me.
“Well, the joke is on you, because I can fit alotin my bra.”
His gaze travels lazily to my chest. “Is that so? Does that mean I need to check you before the night is over?”
My face feels like it’s on fire. Mostly because I’m picturing his hand down my dress. My mouth is so dry that I have to swallow before I can speak.
“Please get out of my way.”
He steps to the side to let me pass, though his solid arm brushes against mine as I pass. I hate that I can feel his gaze on me as I make my way to the bathroom. But the thing I hate the most is how hard my nipples are. My freaking body can’t seem to get the memo from my brain that we hate him. Weak knees, sweaty palms, hard nipples, and an ache between my legs that is going to drive me freaking insane one of these days. All symptoms that I get when I’m around Malik Jafar.
In the restroom, I pick the stall at the end of the row and close the door behind me. At least I can scroll on social media while I hide. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done it, either. Exactly one hour later, I leave the bathroom. People are already being seated for dinner, which is what I wanted. My goal is to slip into an empty chair toward the back of the room, but Jasmine spots me right away, waving me over. Jafar is at her side, speaking to a man to his left. What has me stopping are the other people at the table. Dru sits next to Jasmine, and Richard is at her side. That means I’m going to be sitting between Richard and Jafar’s coworker and facing Jafar directly. The fake headache I was going to use as an escape is suddenly very real. How could Jasmine do this to me?
“Ellie! Over here!”
People are looking my way, and I don’t miss Jafar’s glare. My feet move, because I can’t stand being the center of attention any more than I can stand making people mad at me.
Jasmine points to the empty chair. “That’s your seat.”
Obviously.I take my seat, focusing my gaze on my plate. That doesn’t stop me from feeling the stares around the table.
“Ellie, how have you been? It’s been ages since we’ve seen you.” Dru smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. It never does.
“I’m good.”
“Still working at that little charity clinic?”
I nod, reaching for my wine glass. “Yes.”
