Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 157491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
“What can I get for you?” the cute redheaded barman asks, drying his hands on a towel.
“What have you got in the way of whisky?”
Before he can answer, hands come around me and cover my eyes.
“Guess who?” the masculine voice demands.
Clammy hands and an overpowering cologne belong to neither of the men I’d be happy to see. “Giles?” I hazard, underwhelmed.
“You must have seen me coming.” Giles hands lower, his tone a touch petulant.
“I definitely didn’t.” Because if I had, I would’ve walked the other way. Giles and Sandy move in the same circles, though I wouldn’t exactly say they’re friends. More like acquaintances. Old school pals? Which is probably why he thinks it’s okay to be flirty.
The barman clears his throat. “Whisky, you said?”
“Oh, yes. Do you have—”
“Not on your birthday, Izzy. Champagne is what you should be drinking,” Giles declares, turning to the barman.
“I’m so relieved to have a man know what’s good for me,” I murmur. “Goodness knows my gender invalidates everything that comes out of my mouth…”
“What?” Giles glances my way, then decides he must’ve misheard me as his attention moves to the barman again. “Dalforth stashed a few bottles of Krug here earlier, didn’t he?”
“You’ve seen Sandy?” My attention swings Giles’s way, though he spares me only the briefest of glances.
“Not for a while.” His attention shifts to the barman as he appears with a bottle of champagne. “That’s the stuff,” he says, almost snatching it from the barman’s hands. “Glasses, man,” he barks, twisting the neck from the cork.
“Thank you,” I add, sliding the redhead a sympathetic smile as he places two champagne glasses on the makeshift bar top. The faster I accept his felicitations and swallow a mouthful of champagne, the quicker I can leave. Being polite to people who don’t deserve it is such a pain, but I don’t know any other way to be. I really need to learn to channel Tamsin because I’d rather stick pins in my eyeballs than spend more than five minutes with him. “Actually, could you make that four glasses?” Just in case Giles gets the wrong idea. “My friends will be here in a minute.”
“A toast to the birthday girl,” Giles announces, sloshing the vintage into two flutes. He sets the bottle down quite forcefully and only the quick reflexes of the barman prevents it from falling. “Sorry about that, old chap,” Giles blusters, though he pays the barman very little attention as he pushes one of the flutes into my hand. “Happy Birthday, beautiful Izzy.”
“Thanks.” I keep my eyes glued to the rim of my glass as he taps it with his, then pretty much look anywhere else than at him because, urgh! I bring it to my lips as I scan the room. I’ve sensed he’s had a thing for me for a while, but the human race would go extinct if there were just the two of us left because he makes me feel icky. He watches me, and I know that sounds ridiculous because if someone fancies you, of course they’ll watch. But there’s something off about him. Even more off than being horrible to servers. The bottom line is, he makes me feel uncomfortable. “Where did you say Sandy went again?” I take another sip from my glass as I shoot him a tiny, mechanical smile.
“He was with that blond girl and her friend. I expect he has his hands full.”
It’s hard to ignore his leer. Urgh. I’m glad I didn’t knock on Sandy’s bedroom door earlier. Like links on a chain, my thoughts feed from Sandy to Niko, that other elusive male. I thought girls were supposed to play hard to get.
I realize Giles has spoken. “Sorry. I zoned out for a minute.” I turn to him, my expression bland. “What was that?”
“I asked if you were having a nice birthday.”
“Yes, of course.” Reflexively, I take another sip of my drink.
“What are you doing these days? You know, to keep busy.”
I fix on a smile, knowing I’m about to sound like a walking cliché. Like so many girls of my background, I work in an art gallery. But unlike those girls, it’s not a way to keep busy between attending university and finding a rich husband because I actually have rent to pay. I also like to eat from time to time. I also have dreams beyond the wedded state, but if you have the kind of family lineage I have, you want to avoid it, too.
The debauching dukes of Dalforth.
I think my father thought the title was his destiny. Then I suppose he didn’t expect my mother to meet him, lover for lover. Tit for tat.
Nope. Marriage is not for me. I have other aspirations. I’m pretty good with a needle and thread and want to design clothes for more than just myself. Not that I’d tell Giles any of this.