Page 78 of Sins (The Sins Trilogy 1)
Chapter Thirty-Four
Iris
The reception is much fancier and classier than I thought. Food and wine flow, served on silver trays carried by waiters in crisp livery. The glitzy ballroom is full of people decked out in their best outfits—exquisitely tailored tuxes and dresses, glittering jewels and watches, and fine shoes that cost more than most people make in a year. I almost wish I hadn’t returned the ice-blue Ferragamo dress Sam sent yesterday. I’m in a simple merlot-colored cocktail dress with spaghetti straps. I remind myself that the cut of the dress is classic, and no one knows I found it on sale last year in Prague.
More to the point, no one cares. They’re here to dine and wine on Sam’s tab.
After finishing the Debussy and Mozart I prepared, I step away to take a short break. Sam thinks I should play the entire time, but I’m not a machine.
I take a glass of white wine from a passing tray and move to a corner. Small excitement sparks in my belly as I think back on my performance. My hands shook a little in the beginning, but I was able to maintain my composure. I didn’t make any mistakes, and easily played everything at tempo.
And…I actually felt pretty good sitting there.
Does this mean I might not panic if an audience focuses on me? I’ll have to find a way to test that theory. Maybe Julie can help. God, I wish she were here with me right now so we could talk about it. She thinks it’s a bummer I can’t play before a crowd. If my heart will just quit beating like it’s about to choke me, I might be able to have a career as a musician. Anxious excitement fills me, and I can’t stand still anymore. I start pacing in a small circle, staring at nothing as I try to think.
Have to calm down, though. Who knows when I’ll be able to test the theory and see how my nerves hold up at a recital? Until I can, I need to maintain my course: stay in L.A. and get a job.
A guy suddenly appears in front of me. “There you are! Can you help me?”
I look up and see one of the men Sam introduced me to when I arrived. It takes a moment to recall his name… Jamie Thornton. A potential investor in Sam’s next big development. He shook my hand while politely flattering me about how pretty I looked. Afterward, Sam whispered that Thornton was important and asked me to be extra nice to him. I’m not sure what I can do for him, though. I’m not prepared to take requests.
“What do you need help with, Mr. Thornton?”
“Jamie. I insist.” He beams at me, revealing a row of straight white teeth. An attractive man in his mid-thirties. High forehead. Carefully trimmed and shaped brown eyebrows above deep-set brown eyes. His nose is a tad too long, the lips a tad too thin, but they don’t detract. Still, I don’t care for him. He has a disturbing way of looking at me, letting his gaze linger over my bared shoulders and my breasts, half a beat too long to be polite, but not so long that it veers into creeptastic territory.
And I hate that he’s so…ambiguous on the creep-meter. Guys should be one way or the other.
“I think I lost my phone,” he explains finally.
“Did you check with the front desk and concierge?” Why is he talking to me about this?
“They didn’t have it. They said they’d look, but…” His sigh says he has no confidence in them.
“Where did you lose it?”
“In the courtyard, I think. I was texting out there, and then…” He slaps his pockets, then raises his hands in a helpless gesture. “I have to find it. It has all my data.”
“I understand.” I’d be beside myself if I’d lost mine. It has all my contacts, texts, emails, photos…everything. But Jamie evidently wants more than just sympathy. He’s looking at me way too expectantly. “Would you…”
I didn’t want to do anything except just rest a few moments before returning to the piano, but Sam did ask me to be nice. And if he hears that I didn’t help, he’ll be upset. Last thing I want is to disturb the truce we established yesterday. Although Sam can be autocratic, he has done everything he thought would be best for me since the accident, regardless of the cost. I owe him. “Sure, I’ll help you look.”
We walk through one of several French doors leading to the dark courtyard. It’s lush with a sweet-smelling lawn, every blade cut with military precision, lively shrubs and night-blooming flowers.
Jamie leads me to a spot underneath a tree, far from the ballroom and off the main path.
“So this is where you lost it?” I ask, looking around on the ground.
“Yeah, I think so. This is the last place I used it. I was texting my assistant.”
The small faux candles around the area don’t provide enough illumination to locate his phone on the ground. I start to reach into my clutch to grab mine.
Suddenly Jamie’s arm wraps around my waist, and he pulls me toward him. My clutch falls from my grasp. Before I can recover my balance, his mouth crushes mine.
The whiskey on his breath overwhelms me; his tongue is a slimy slug against my lips. Chills spread through my body. I clench my jaw and jerk my head away. “No!”
“Come on,” he says, one hand gliding over my butt, then trying to slip under my skirt. The other is pulling on my shoulder straps. “We both know what you really want.”
Oh my God!Terror and outrage roughen my breathing. Shaking, I twist, trying to get away. I have to make this bastard stop. “Cut it out before I—”
I don’t get to finish.
