Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 143870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 480(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 480(@300wpm)
“Somehow, I always manage to miss the juicy stuff,” I remark.
“That’s the luxury of being a headliner,” Jackson teases. “You’re only here three nights a week, so I guess you’ll just have to live vicariously through us.”
“I’m good,” I grumble. “It’s not like I need another reminder of how disappointing humanity is.”
“Someone’s jaded.” Jackson grabs the body shimmer and starts painting me for the final act.
“I’ll own it.”
“Speaking of jaded…” Jackson launches into a story about his ex, getting so carried away my body ends up looking like a disco ball.
“I think we’re good, Jackson,” I interrupt him. “You can put down the shimmer.”
“Eh.” He sets the brush aside to assess me. “You can never have too much sparkle. It’s giving untouchable goddess in a gilded bath.”
“Every rich client’s fantasy,” Kenzie muses.
“Okay, well, my work here is done.” Jackson brushes off his hands and blows each of us a kiss. “I’m going to catch me a hot bartender.”
“Good luck,” I call after him.
He waves as he disappears around the corner, and it takes all of three seconds for Kenzie to shoot me a questioning glance.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
“What?” I organize the clutter on my vanity.
“Why are you under Vitale protection?”
“Oh, that.” I grimace, more annoyed by that development every second. “Probably because they found out about my number one fan.”
“You mean the stalker?” Her eyes widen.
I nod, and she releases a breath.
“Okay, I know Andreas says the Vitales are like the Greeks’ mortal enemies for some reason, but honestly, I don’t hate this. I’ll sleep better at night knowing someone is looking out for you. Who knows, maybe they’ll even figure out who it is.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
I’m sure that’s why Cristian’s sitting in the audience right now, undoubtedly clocking every customer in here tonight.
“I still think it’s stupid we have a no-cameras policy,” Kenzie says. “I understand the dressing room, but the hallway should be a safe zone.”
“I think secrecy is the whole point.” I shrug. “The Society is big on that.”
“True.” She checks the time with a groan. “I have to go back on in fifteen. You need any help with hair or makeup?”
“I think I’ve got it, but thanks. I’m just going to do a quick touch-up.”
“Easy peasy champagne tease-y.”
“You are such a nerd.” I laugh at her.
“I know.” She does a little kick as she tosses her hair back. “But you love me.”
“Have fun out there,” I tell her. “I’ll see you after?”
“Definitely.” She smiles. “Enjoy your bath.”
14
CHANTEL
The final act of the night is a solo to “Champagne Champagne” by Mandy Lauderdale. This one is all performance and no singing, which is a relief, because I can coast by on autopilot.
I step out onto the stage in a champagne-tinted robe as the music opens, absently pulling the sash loose. The material glides over my shoulders as I walk, slowly slipping from my body to reveal the gold chainmail dress beneath.
Strolling to the bar cart in my strappy heels, I let my fingers dance over the bottles of champagne before I choose one. After I pop the cork, I pour a glass and press a lipstick print against the flute as I make my way downstage.
This song is a sultry little jazz number, and it’s all about measured steps, the buildup of anticipation, and lingering eye contact. But as I walk down the stairs into the audience, every man I glance at averts his gaze—except for one.
I find myself moving toward him, as if he’s reeling me in like a magnet. He’s cold and composed, but fire flickers in the depths of his eyes when they slide over me.
As he sits there, reclined against the booth like he owns it, an inexplicable sense of déjà vu pulses between us. I can’t make sense of it, but there’s something else I can’t forget.
Tiffany’s declaration backstage echoes through my mind, snapping me out of my haze. At the last minute, I pivot on my heel and redirect myself.
I’m taking my life into my own hands when I head for the VIP table where Ares and his men are seated.
Ares never comes here, so there must be a reason for his presence, and I need to seize the opportunity while I have it. It’s part of the show to interact with the audience during this song, and tonight I happen to have a convenient target.
Stepping between him and one of his guards, I lean in without breaking character and whisper in his ear.
“Have there been any arrivals I should know about?”
His gaze shifts to Cristian, and a smile tugs at his lips before he fixes his attention on me.
“Nothing on my watch.”
I nod, and so it doesn’t look like I’m singling him out, I turn to face his guard Elias. Passing him the champagne flute in my hand, I blow him a kiss and drift back into the crowd.