Page 28 of Bedazzled
There was one time about two weeks ago when an article about some rich people's event in Paris looked interesting, I clicked on it, and there was Yuri, gorgeous and in a tux. He was smiling down at a striking redhead.
I knew that smile, it was the ‘I am so bored and this means nothing’ smile, but the girl with him didn’t seem to care, her hand was on his arm, leaning in just a bit.
I stared at the picture, tracing the lines of his face with my finger. He looked as tall and bulky as ever, but his face was thinner. Then I clicked out of the site and drank myself to sleep.
“...do you think, Tania?”
I blinked and tried to focus. Ezio was looking at me expectantly.
“Uh, that seems good.” I nodded as if I had the slightest idea of what the hell he had been talking about.
“Excellent!” He clapped his hands together. “I’ll let the board members know we’re meeting the clients tonight at Bar Hugo.”
Clients. And the Papachristodoulopoulos Board of Directors. The biggest group of obscenely wealthy and utterly useless assholes in the tri-state area. It would be a night in hell.
Please,I lectured myself,it’s not like you had anything else to do.
Even after making it home for a quick shower, my good black dress, and an extremely non-motivating pep talk, the evening forced me to question many of my life choices, including having given up drinking for a week or two to dry myself out.
“Are you sure I can’t get you something stronger?” The super hot bartender was flirting shamelessly with me, which would ordinarily make my evening because it would mean free drinks and giving him my number if he managed to stay charming and hot all night. But now… eh.
“No thanks, I’m pretty sure my blood could be used as lighter fluid at this point,” I smiled to make it sound less weird. “Just doing a little detox.”
“Oh! Which detox are you doing?” An excitable brunette bounced up to me in a dress so tight that I could count each of her ribs. I think her name was… Lana? She was here as the date of Ezio’s biggest investor on this new project.
“Because I just got finished with this amazing new plan that Giselle Bundchen uses?” She said eagerly, “You mix kelp and…”
Maybe I should have taken the hot bartender up on the offer of that drink.
“...and then you’ll poop out your body weight for like three days, but at the end, your colon is squeaky clean.”
“So clean you could eat off it, huh?”
Lana nods enthusiastically for a moment then frowns at me, confused.
“I’m sorry,” I really was. “I have a terrible sense of humor.”
“That is not what I’ve heard. Tania, right?” Speak of the devil.
I spun around. “Oh, hello, Mr. O’Rourke, how are you enjoying your evening?”
“It’s good so far,” he smiled, “and call me Nolan, please.”
Nolan O’Rourke was one of those men unfairly gifted with shrewd intelligence, a bulging bank account, and a level of supermodel hotness that - even in his early forties - really didn’t exist outside of New York Fashion Week.
His warm brown eyes focused on Lana for a moment. “My darling, would you mind getting me another drink?”
“No problem, babe.” She gave a little giggle when he lifted her hand and kissed the back of it lingeringly.
I watched her walk away, smiling at him over her shoulder and nearly knocking over one of the waiters. Not that I could blame her. His charm was lethal.
“You really kept me on my toes with all those financing questions today,” I said. “Ezio’s very happy you’re sharing his vision on this project.”
He ran his hand through his perfectly sculpted hair, blond and sun-kissed with the slightest bit of a curl. “Well, you had an answer for everything, you were the one really sold the project,” he said with a slight, elegant Irish accent. “They’re lucky to have you at Papachristo… dou…”
“It’s rhythmic,” I waved my hand like I was leading music, “Papa. Christo. Doulo. Poulos.”
“It sounds like one of his ancestors lost a bet and had to use the surname as some kind of eternal punishment for his family,” he said wryly.
