Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
I narrow my eyes as he opens the heavy door leading into the space. “And you can come get me if you need someone to take your ego down a peg or two. Sound good?”
“Sounds great.” He grins and lifts a hand to someone on the other side of the ballroom as we step inside.
I’m amazed he can see anything. The room is dark, lit only by deep blue lights swirling behind the transparent dome that serves as the ceiling. The effect is beautiful—like we’re under a dark, ever-changing night sky—but it’s hard to make out faces. Add in the stands of fake trees arranged throughout the space and white fog hugging the ground, adding to the “midnight in an eerie forest” vibe, and I can already tell it will be easier to hide at this party than see and be seen.
Thank God.
I can’t wait to ditch Adrian and dive into the snacks. I realized I forgot to eat dinner on the way over, and I’m suddenly starving. I definitely need something in my stomach before I have a drink, or I’ll fall asleep under a fake tree way before midnight.
“Are you okay to find Noelle and Ben on your own?” Adrian asks, his eyes scanning back and forth across the crowd, calculating his next move. “I want to get a little networking in before I head to the booth.”
“Absolutely,” I say, though I haven’t spotted a sign of Noelle or Ben, both of whom were able to traverse the red carpet much faster than the host of the party.
But I’ll find them. Noelle’s dress is bright, bubblegum pink. Surely, even in a shadowy forest, I’ll be able to spot a color that aggressive.
I clap a hand on Adrian’s back between his shoulders. “Good luck and don’t be nervous. You’re in your element and you’re going to do an amazing job.”
The real Adrian peeks out from behind his social mask for a beat, gratitude in his eyes. “Thanks, Syd. Have a great time. You deserve it.”
“Thanks,” I say, moving away, only to turn back when he adds in a louder voice, “And if you meet someone cool, don’t be afraid to shoot your shot, woman. You look hot as fuck tonight.”
I blush and awkwardly flip him off before making my escape, weaving my way quickly through the still sparse crowd toward the smell of grilled meat. I know Adrian meant well, but I hate having attention drawn to me in public.
I’m not shy, necessarily, I simply prefer not to be the center of attention.
I’d rather slip into a gathering unnoticed, with ample time to linger in the periphery, observing the social dynamics of the players before making my move. Socializing in large groups of strangers doesn’t come naturally to me. I’m more of a one-on-one girl. Or three or four people if we’re all close friends. Like the book club with my Maine girls.
An ache spreads through my chest, reminding me that I need to call Maya and tell her I won’t be able to make it up to Sea Breeze for the October book club meeting, after all. Work is just too hairy. I can still join them via video call, of course, but it won’t be the same.
But that’s life. Being an adult means making hard choices, and I’ve made mine. No more Maine until my vacation next summer and no more working for peanuts for wildlife conservation groups.
This is my real life, my grown-up life, and I’ll be happy I made these sacrifices someday, when I know everything there is to know about Watson Global and Dad passes the leadership torch into my capable hands. I’ll be able to do so much more good for the world as CEO of an international conglomerate making billions than as a poor wildlife worker documenting the nesting habits of seabirds and shouting into the void about how urgently we need to protect animals from climate change.
A lot of people can observe seabirds, only I can take on this particular challenge. I’m not simply heir to a fortune, but to power on a global scale. I can’t afford to take that lightly. If I don’t prove to Dad that I can fill his shoes in the next year, he’ll find someone else to do it.
Someone who probably won’t care about using Watson Global’s influence for good as much as I do…
Instantly, I decide it’s going to be a one-drink night. No Jell-O shots, no second glass of wine or signature cocktail. I’ll eat, have one drink, dance with Noelle and Ben for a while, and head home at midnight. If I’m in bed by one, I’ll still be able to get up and hit the books hard by eight or nine tomorrow morning.
Collecting a small white plate from the end of the most whimsical buffet I’ve ever seen—the ten-foot-long wooden table is filled with flowers and wooden fairy sculptures as well as three different kinds of tacos, fruit, grilled vegetables, and various snack food on sticks—I load up and head to one of the vine-draped high-top tables. There are no seats, but that’s fine. I’m not sure I’d be able to sit down in this dress, anyway, at least not without showing my ass.