Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Finally, I reached my door, slid my key in the slot, and glanced over my shoulder to accuse him with a glare—
Only to see he had his keycard in the door of the room next to mine.
I let out a tight breath.
Given the night I’d had, it wasn’t my fault for being on edge. Our gazes connected for a moment, and it seemed as if he were waiting for this opportunity.
“Hey, I came back up to my room because I forgot my phone. You want to join me at the bar downstairs? I’m betting you could use a drink.”
“Oh,” I said. “Thanks, but I’m tired.”
“Okay.” He let the rejection roll right off him. “If you change your mind, I’ll buy your first one.”
I nodded in acknowledgement, stepped inside my room, and let the door close behind me with a weighty thud.
The goal was to shut everything out, but being alone had the opposite effect immediately. I leaned back against the door and slid down until I was sitting on the floor. The bed was too far away, and I needed a moment to catch my breath. To stop feeling like I was kneeling on the theater floor, my hands wet with the man’s blood.
All the dark hotel room did was make me restless.
My bags were in a pile, so I picked up the garment bag first and hung it on the coat rack, unzipping it so I could peek inside. The gorgeous midnight blue dress was simple and refined. The exposed back was all mesh and lace. Sophisticated, timeless, and yet a hint of sexy.
It was another costume. In this one, I was to play provocative and confident.
But I was still stuck in that goddamn theater, the dying man’s empty expression fixed on his face. I had to get out of here. It probably wasn’t a good idea, but going to the bar was worth a try. I’d take awkward conversation with a stranger over this.
My gaze drifted down to my feet, and a pair of worn Nikes stared back up at me. My focus returned to the garment bag. This dress allowed me to be anything I wanted, and tonight I was desperate to be someone else.
It was subdued in the swanky lobby bar, especially for a Friday night, but it was also close to last call. I scanned the collection of tables before locating the man at the far end of the bar who was busy studying his phone. A barely touched drink rested in front of him.
“I changed my mind,” I announced, drawing his attention. It was hard to tell which surprised him more, that I was there—or my dress. His gaze washed over me, and his expression heated. He liked what he saw.
“And you changed clothes, too.” He signaled the bartender. “What would you like?”
I needed something strong. “Tequila soda, please.”
He ordered it and gestured to the empty stool beside him. When I went to climb on, the seat swiveled unexpectedly, giving him a view of the detail on my back.
“Oh, wow. Your dress is very pretty.”
“Thank you.” I’d always struggled to accept compliments and had to make a conscious effort to do so now.
He extended a hand. “I’m Seth.”
“Laurel.” His handshake was firm but not overbearing.
“Laurel,” he repeated. “What do you do?”
Hadn’t I told him already in the elevator? The bartender deposited the drink in front of me.
Oh. He thinks you were in the audience.
I picked up the glass and took a small sip. “I’m one of the cast members in the ballet.”
Confusion drew his eyebrows together. “You’re a ballerina?”
“I’m a ballet dancer,” I clarified. “It’s not quite the same as ballerina.”
His eyes drifted over to the muted television screen in the back corner. A ticker across the bottom read: “ONE DEAD IN CHICAGO DANCE THEATER SHOOTING.”
“Were you on stage?”
I took an even bigger sip this time since this was precisely what I came down to the bar to avoid. “Do you mind if we don’t talk about it?”
“Absolutely. What would you like to talk about?”
Oh, no. Small talk. “What do you do?”
“I’m a branch manager of an agri-chemical company down in Nashville.”
“That’s why you’re in town?”
“Yes, ma’am. They asked me to speak at a company conference.”
I nodded and scrambled to come up with another question, but couldn’t. Awkward silence stretched between us, and I cringed inside. I should have known better.
For some reason, Seth didn’t seem to mind or notice. He took a sip of his drink, turning the napkin absentmindedly on the bar. “I’m going to guess you know about as much about pesticides as I do about ballet.”
“Which is nothing?” A small smile crept across my lips.
“Bingo.” His phone vibrated, and he glanced at the screen. Whatever was there didn’t make him happy. He texted a quick response, set the phone down, and promptly drained his drink.