Page 16 of Meant For Love
“No, go and gamble,” I say. “Put twenty on red.”
“You lost four hundred dollars doing that,” he reminds me.
“My luck is about to change,” I tell him before I turn and rush into a couple of stores, settling on a strapless, tight-fitting white lace dress. The cutouts of the dress show the white slip under it, and I pick up a pair of crystal slingbacks to complete the look. I’m just putting the finishing touches on my lips when he knocks at the door. I pull it open before I tell him, “I’m almost done.” I turn before I see what he’s wearing, but when I look over my shoulder, I can see from his eyes that he likes my outfit.
“You can’t go like that.” He points at me, and I look down at my chosen dress.
“Why not?” I smooth down the front of the dress. “It’s so pretty.”
“It’s just too much.” I look down at myself as I pick up the little clutch purse that holds my phone and lip gloss. “Ugh, it’s going to be a long night.”
I watch him turn and walk to the door, noticing he’s wearing a black suit with a matching black shirt. “I need a drink,” I finally say, “since this is officially off the clock.”
He laughs as we walk toward the gala. “People are turning their heads looking at you.”
“They are not,” I mumble as we get to the reception, where I snag a glass of champagne and take a sip, the bubbles exploding on my tongue. “Refreshing.”
“Nash.” Our heads both turn when we hear his name and see a man approaching. “I was hoping to catch you here.” He extends his hand. “I loved your speech,” he says to him, and I smile at him proudly. Even though I didn’t know what he meant, his speech was fantastic.
“Thank you,” Nash says. “This is Zoey Richards.” He turns to me, introducing me.
“Your new lady,” he says, and I shake my head.
“Not his new lady. We work together.” I smile, wondering if he’s ever brought a woman to this event.
“That’s a shame,” the man says. “If I was younger…” I can’t help but laugh.
“You are too kind,” I say. “I’m sure you bat away the women with your charm.” I look at him and then at Nash, who looks at me with a smile.
“I wish,” he replies, looking at Nash. “You should fire this woman and then date her.”
“Now, that is a great idea!” he declares. The man smiles at me, giving me a wink, and walks away.
I wait for the man to leave and finish my glass before I get the nerve to ask him, “How many women have you brought to this event? Every single time we meet someone, they ask you if I’m the newer model.”
“One, they have not asked you that every single time.” He turns to look around. “And the answer to your question is not many.” He avoids looking at me. “Some I was dating at the time. Some I was testing the waters with.”
“So you’re a serial dater?” I laugh as a server walks around with another tray of champagne. I put my empty glass on it before taking a full one.
“Not really a serial dater.” He waits for the man to walk away before he speaks. “I just haven’t found the one who I want to spend more time with.” I stare into his eyes. “I need someone who will keep me on my toes. Someone beautiful and kind.” I take a sip of champagne, well, more like half the glass. “Someone who, I don’t know, drinks matcha.”
I about choke on my champagne when he says that before he takes me to our table for the meal. He pulls out the chair for me, and I sit down as he sits beside me. “Would you like white or red?” the server beside me asks.
“White, please,” I say to him and then look over at Nash, who shakes his head. “You aren’t a wine drinker?”
“I don’t mind wine. I’m just not feeling it,” he explains as I lift my glass of wine and take a sip.
“What do you feel like having?” The minute I ask the question, I hold up my hand. “Don’t answer that,” I say, taking another sip of wine.
He leans into me, and I swear I hold my breath when I smell him beside me and then feel his breath on my ear. “You ruin all the fun.” I turn my head, and we are so close to each other it’s making it hard to think.
Two things happen at the same time. Someone calls him away, and my purse buzzes in my lap. He pushes away from the table, walking over to the man. My phone buzzes a second time. I pull it out to see it’s from Josh.
Josh: I miss you.
Josh: When are you getting back? We need to talk.
I’m about to answer him when I see he commented on my Instagram post two hours ago when I took a picture of the fountains. I click on his picture and see he uploaded a story ten minutes ago, where he was in a club between two girls. “Asshole,” I mutter to myself and put my phone away. Yeah, he misses me, my ass. I finish the glass of champagne, turning and seeing Nash coming to me.