Page 142 of Ripped & Shipped
“Of course.”
I’m smiling past this awkward feeling. He’s just welcoming me ahead of the other guests. I should feel honored. But I’ve got a spidey-sense when it comes to people, and I’m starting to feel like the fly in that old nursery rhyme,The Spider and the Fly. I’ll play along with Drake for now, but I’m not telling my gut to shush.
I picture Chris. He would not be happy about me being here alone. I’m not doing anything wrong, but something’s not right either.
“What time did you say everyone else is coming?” I ask.
“Relax, Ella Mae. We’re just getting to know one another. I want to hear all you’ve been up to. And maybe we can take some pics together to drum up some action on social media. Don’t worry. I’ve got you covered. Plenty of big names will be here tonight and the rest of the weekend. @Miss-charity-thang is coming. @Slay-Dawggytown and even @The.Shannon.Price.Is.So.Right.”
Wow. Huge doesn’t begin to describe the people he just listed. It’s worth a little awkward pre-party if I’m going to mingle with that level of influencers.
“Come over here. Make yourself comfortable,” Drake says.
He points to an outdoor couch that faces the pool with a view over the railing to the sand and the ocean stretching beyond the patio.
I take a seat on the far cushion. Drake sits in the middle one and tilts his body so he’s facing me.
“So, tell me all about your latest projects,” he says, casually lifting his glasses, putting them on, and running a hand through his hair. “What are you focusing on in the coming months? Any big plans?”
I wish. If I’m perfectly honest, I’ve been treading water with my account ever since Chris and I started faking our relationship online. When he and I really began dating, it only got worse. I’ve been more focused on Chris than my work. And I’ve been less energized for creative endeavors while I’ve been fending off the reactions around Bordeaux. But I can’t tell Drake all that.
“I’ve got some secret projects I’m cooking up,” I tell him. “You know, a little this and that.”
“Oh, I do. I love secrets,” he says, leaning in a little closer. In a slightly husky voice, he says, “You want to know one of my secrets?”
The hum of concern in my gut is waving around a caution flag like a city worker in front of a manhole.
“No. You don’t have to tell me your secrets. I’ll wait to find out with the rest of your fans.”
“Oh, Ella Mae.” He glances down at my lips and then back up into my eyes. “This secret isn’t for our fans. It’s just between us.”
I stand quickly. “Do you have a restroom?”
He chuckles. “I’ve got six. Closest one is just past the kitchen.”
Drake leans back, spreading both arms out along the back of the couch.
I smile my best confident smile. “I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time. I’m here.”
Yeah. I know.
CHAPTER47
Ella Mae
I makeevery effort not to sprint to Drake’s restroom. Instead, I stroll slowly, looking over my shoulder at Drake whose back is to me while he sips his drink and looks out at his amazing view.
Am I crazy?
No. I’m not crazy.
I make my way through the huge, dreamy designer kitchen, and find the bathroom immediately past it, just as Drake said. I step inside and flick the lock. Then I collapse back against the door.
I consider texting Chris. Nope. Not unless I want a special ops helicopter hovering over this building in a split second. I’m joking, mostly. But I imagine Chris could probably rustle up someone local in a pinch, knowing him. I’ll call him if things get out of hand. So far, I don’t even know what’s going on.
Nothing really happened out on the patio.
