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All this at the society wedding of the year.
I do the only thing worth doing right now.
I scream to let my frustration out.
It feels so good that I continue screaming until it kind of turns into a wail. No tears or anything, just a good old-fashioned release of the disappointment, resentment, and irritation filling me. This is something I should do more often. Hell, everyone should do this more often. Between screaming, wailing, and having sex, I think humans could probably resolve a lot of issues without resorting to violence.
A deep voice cuts through the air. “Jesus, are you okay?”
My mouth snaps shut as I catch sight of a man entering the bathroom. My body fills with anticipation while my knees threaten to give way.
This man is hot.
Really hot.
Like, on a scale ofI’d throw myself off a cliff to avoid ever having to look at youtoI’d take all my clothes off right now if it meant you’d just talk to me, he has to be at the level ofI’m never wearing clothes again.
He’s probably the best-looking man I’ve ever come across.
I’m even ignoring the way everything about him screams money. I’m not usually attracted to wealthy men in suits anymore, butdamn, this guy knows how to wear one. He also has just the right amount of beard. And don’t get me started on the way his dark brown hair falls effortlessly into place. I’d bet all the money in my bank account—a huge risk because I don’t have much in there—that he’s had it styled, even though it looks like he simply dried it with a towel and let it do its own thing.
I grip the sink and throw out the first thing that comes to mind. “Do you always wander into women’s bathrooms?” I mean, I’m all for him doing that, just not when I’m in the middle of the kind of personal crisis that is threatening to send me to the brink. My dress is gaping open, and my ass is hanging out. That’s a crisis with a capital fucking “c”.
His brows arch as his gaze drops to my back, clearly taking in everything on display. When his eyes meet mine again, he says, “Only when I think a woman is in that bathroom possibly dying. You do realize you were screaming like a woman on her deathbed, right?”
I grip the sink harder. “That’s because I am!”
His lips twitch as if he’s trying not to smile. If he smiles or laughs, I swear I’ll turn around and clock him. He doesn’t, though. He’s smart as well as hot. “So, now that we’ve established you’re close to death, do you want a hand with that?”
My brain scrambles fast to come to a decision. I figure things could be worse. Poppy’s mother and mine could have walked in on me. The Winters sisters would not be as cool about this situation as Mr I-Could-Blow-Your-Damn-Mind is being.
I nod. “Thanks. I’ll just grab my purse.” My emergency kit for these kinds of crises is in there. I’m choosing to ignore the nagging feeling deep in my gut that there isn’t any kit that can fix this problem.
I make my way back into the stall where I left my purse on the floor, at which point I see the flaw in this plan. If I bend to retrieve it, my dress will probably rip some more.
“I hate today. Why can’t anything ever be easy?”
“Problem?”
I spin to find Mr I-Could-Blow-Your-Damn-Mind standing directly behind me. Well, in front of me now. “What’s your name?” It comes out like a demand. It is, really. I don’t have time to keep referring to him as Mr I-Could-Blow-Your-Damn-Mind every time I reference him in my head.
“We’re dealing with your death and you want my name?”
I pull a face. “Funny.” He is, but this is not the time to be funny. I click my fingers to convey the urgency I feel. “Give me your name.”
His lips twitch again. “Owen. And you are?”
I want to spend time drooling over his name. It’s a good strong name, and I briefly imagine it falling from my lips while he gives me the kind of orgasm I bet a man like Owen can give. But I power on instead. This is no time for orgasm dreaming.
“Charlize.” I step back, over my purse so that it’s in between us, and nod at it. “I need you to please pick that up so we can get my emergency kit out of it.”
“Your emergency kit? You really think this dress can be fixed?”
My eyes widen in horror. “Don’t you say that! Now is not the time to give up, Owen. If I have to walk in front of my mother again tonight, she willnotbe seeing my ass swinging in the wind.”
He cocks his head. “Are you Seth’s or Poppy’s? I’m guessing if your mother is here, you must be family.”
“Poppy’s. You?”
