Page 51 of Maximum Dare
There’d been no official announcement in the press yet, but after tonight the world would know Nick’s name. This event was being thrown by his family to celebrate him being accepted into Manchester United. What other reason could there be?
I was happy for him. I really was.
Thoughts of Max had eased the strain of my breakup. I really should have taken his advice and deleted that app permanently off my phone.
As though I’d not endured enough torture, I’d watched the video of Morgan shopping in Harrods for a dress to wear to the event, shop assistants fussing around her as she tried on different styles. Then she had asked her fans to vote for their favorite.
Oh, the suspense…
Would it be the elegant Badgley Mischka that showed off her long legs? Or the flowing pink chiffon that hid her Maleficent side?
We’d all just have to wait and see…
I, too, had bought a brand new outfit—a Marks and Spencer flowing black skirt and a white blouse with flouncy sleeves. Perfect for a cocktail party. I’d spent time on my makeup, too, adding some blush to disguise my pallor from lack of sleep, and applying soft pink lipstick to round out my I-kind-of-tried-but-didn’t-have-to ensemble.
I styled my hair so it tumbled down my shoulders in shiny waves. Nick had always loved it when I wore my hair down. Though doubt had settled amongst my happy memories like weeds in a flower garden, creeping in unseen, strangling what was once beautiful and sacred. I’d never seen our breakup coming.
Tonight, I’d get to meet his family. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
Though I knew if I were caught, Nick would bail me out—as long as I didn’t act like the crazy ex-girlfriend, he’d see the funny side. He’d see I wanted the best for him.
My GPS led me all the way to a brass gate entryway. Beyond, a vast estate. I stared through the car window.
This can’t be it.
At the end of the long, gravel driveway loomed an intimidating manor of grey granite that was surrounded by sculpted hedges. Sixteenth century lancet-style windows added to its Gothic splendor. A bunch of rich snooty types lived here, no doubt.
The gate swung open.
My heart rate took off at a thundering pace.
A guest arriving ahead of me pulled up in her Rolls Royce to the front door where she was met by a valet. The woman climbed out of her flashy car and showed off her glamorous gown.
Shit.
I was underdressed.
Another woman in a billowing dress was being escorted into the manor by a guy in a snazzy tuxedo. I recognized several of Nick’s friends exiting a long limousine, each wearing a tux. From their laughter I could tell they’d had a few drinks on the way.
I ducked down in my front seat, not wanting them to see me and give Nick the heads-up I was here. I didn’t want to be escorted out by a stranger before I’d gotten to speak with him.
Before I realized what was happening, a valet had ushered me out of my car. I watched him drive my Mini Cooper around a corner.
Following the crowd through the impressive front door, I tried not to gawp at the elegant foyer. It reminded me of aVanity Fairspread with its green drapes and marble flooring.
Maybe they’d rented the place for the evening? This made the most sense as no way had Nick ever lived here.
Had he?
A middle-aged waiter hurried toward me. “Are you going to just stand there?”
I realized he was talking to me.
“We need help with the hors d’oeuvres.” He gestured with a crook of his head for me to follow.
My gaze snapped over to a waitress holding a tray, offering wine to the newly arrived. She was wearing a white blouse and black skirt. I had dressed the same as the frickin’ staff!
I inhaled sharply at the vision at the end of the foyer.
