Page 62 of My Infatuation with Isabella

This news stuns him. “What are you talking about?”

“Melanie over there...she so wants your beef.”

“What?” He laughs as if the idea is absurd. “No, she doesn’t.”

“Take it from someone who secretly wanted to bone you for months. She wants to ride that dick, I’m telling ya.”

“Oh, my God.” He shuts his eyes and shakes his head. “You haven’t changed one bit. And thanks for making this uncomfortable. You realize I work with her every day? Now that’s all I’m gonna be thinking about whenever she talks to me.”

He takes my plate and hands it to a gentleman beside me. I assume that’s Akeem. I have to admit; I was quite entranced, so I hadn’t even noticed when he arrived.

I shrug and resume our conversation. “I only speak the truth.”

“No.” He smirks, and I can’t tell if he’s angry or amused. “You most definitely donotonly speak the truth, Queen.”

Yep, he’s angry. Queen to Dylan is both a term of endearment and a reminder that I’m the treacherous snake who was destined to break his heart. It’s the first sign of the past rearing its ugly head, the first sign that he hasn’t forgiven me for lying to him. I decide to end the conversation before we end up ruining each other’s nights.

“Well, I’d better eat this before it gets cold,” I say, taking my plate from Akeem. “Have a good evening.”

He nods, his eyes never leaving mine. “See you around, Bella.”

I return to the table, and everyone is at varying levels of inebriation. Damon and Marilyn already have their food. Dylan must’ve mesmerized me because I hadn’t noticed them at the buffet either.

“Smile!”

I look up to see Elenore with her camera again. All of us around the table huddle together for her to take a picture. She gives each of us the keycards for our rooms, and we sign for them before getting back to our meals. I talk. I eat. I laugh. I even get up and dance with Sydney, Tommy and Joycelyn. But I can’t get my heart to stop racing. I can’t see him, but I can feel his eyes on me.

It's not even eight o’clock when Tommy decides he’s taking his party with Joycelyn up to his room. I call him a sellout, but he’s undeterred. I dance with Sydney for a few songs, but my feet are killing me. Eventually, I leave the dance floor to look for a place to sit down. I exit the venue out of the side door which leads to a small room. It’s quiet in here, virtually empty. There are only two gentlemen at the glass doors on the opposite end, smoking cigars. The room is dimly lit, but a roaring fire casts glowing yellow and orange lights across the walls.

I drop my keycard and clutch onto the coffee table, then sit down at the corner of the couch. The light of the fire is quite soothing, even more so with the soft Christmas music playing in the background. My phone beeps and I lean forward to grab my clutch. I check my messages and find six from Tommy. All of them are pictures of his room. It’s stunning. I understand why they call it The Royale because the rooms are fit for a king. The gold-plated shower, the king-size bed. A part of me feels like calling it a night and going up to my room. That is...until a shadow draws my attention upwards, and I find Dylan standing in front of me.

“Hi,” he says. “I thought I saw you come in here.”

“Hi.”

He shrugs off his suit jacket and tosses it over the back of the couch. “Mind if I sit down?” He sits down before I give him an answer.

“Aren’t you still on the clock?”

“That’s one of the perks of being the boss, I guess. The rest of the guys have got it covered.” He makes himself comfortable beside me. “So, big night tonight, Queen. You won the sailor award. You’re doin’ very well for yourself.”

“Yeah, my life has taken a turn for the better.”

“I knew you’d be great at this job. And I was enjoying your acceptance speech, too.”

“Until Damon cut me off.”

I’m not sure why he’s here, or why I’m even entertaining this, but I get sucked into the conversation. Dylan has always been so easy to talk to, and that hasn’t changed. It feels like no time has passed. It feels like no hearts were broken. He reminds me how funny he is and gets me to laugh out loud a few times.

“No, let me tell you who I hate,” he says. “People who finish the milk...then put the empty carton back in the fridge.Hatethem.”

“People who squeeze the toothpaste from the top of the tube,” I say, trying to get my fake annoyance up to his level. It’s adorable how he pretends as if these little things bother him so much. It takes me right back to high school, and I feel compelled to play along. “And people who don’t eat the crust on pizza.”

“Or even worse,” he adds. “People who put pineapple on pizza.”

“Whoa. Slow down there, cowboy. You just took out the entire state of Hawaii with that one. You don’t want to reconsider?”

“No. They can burn in my rage for the crime they’ve committed. And what about people who use the word juxtapose?”

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