The table all falls into chatter while I look around the room in awe. I’ve never been somewhere so glamorous.
Beautiful women in beautiful dresses . . . and can we talk about the caliber of men here? If handsome was a place, this would be it.
What the actual hell?
Black tie sure does bring out the best in everyone.
“You coming to the bar?” Elliot asks Christopher.
“No, I’ll stay here with Hayden.” He picks up my hand and kisses my fingertips as he smiles over at me.
A trace of a smile crosses Elliot’s face. “Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?”
Christopher laughs, and I do too. Does it make me a bad person if I’m glad he’s changed?
The night is a soiree of glamour.
People stop and talk to Christopher, commenting how relaxed and happy he looks.
And he . . . he plays the room like a pro.
All eyes are watching him. Everyone wants to talk to him. He laughs and jokes. The room is in the palm of his hand. Funny, charming, and sexy as all hell, Christopher Miles is London’s darling it boy.
The longer I’m here, with the beauty and glamour, the more an underlying question in the back of my mind steps forward to the front.
What does he see in me?
I’m just a normal country girl.
I’m not gorgeous or glamorous with a high-flying job, and I certainly don’t look like the beautiful model-like women who keep trying to make eye contact with him.
I’m like a fish out of water.
For the first time in my life, I feel something foreign crawl up and sit like a lead ball in my stomach.
Insecurity.
I know that there are others in the room who are wondering the same thing I am.
Why her?
Why has he chosen to settle down with someone so normal? Now that I know the life and people he’s used to, I see why the sight of me causes such a stir. Why photographers are scrambling to get a shot and follow me everywhere. They’re trying to work out what he sees in me. They’re waiting to get the scoop for when we fall.
Stop it.
I sip my wine, disgusted by my thoughts. It’s not healthy to think like this.
Christopher holds his hand out. “Do you want to dance, sweetheart?”
I smile, grateful for him.
“I do.” He leads me onto the dance floor and takes me into his arms as we sway to the music. He kisses my temple, completely oblivious to everyone who is watching us.
“You look beautiful.” He smiles over at me.
I force a smile.
How long will you believe that?
I walk out the door of the shop to a whirl of paparazzi.
“Hayden, Hayden, this way,” they all call.
I drop my head as I am ushered to the car by the security guard. He opens the door, and I get into the back seat and am whisked away. “Idiots,” Hans sighs as we drive into the traffic.
I feel my heartbeat slowly return to normal.
I can’t go anywhere now without being followed.
Hunting Hayden Whitmore has become a sport. I’m hounded night and day by photographers.
I had planned on having some lunch somewhere, but I can’t.
What’s the point?
I’ll be a nervous wreck the entire time, knowing they are waiting just outside for me.