She looked behind her and saw nothing.
“What is it?”
“I just saw a kid. She looked … dirty.”
“Xavier, there’s nothing there.”
“Someone grabbed her.”
He was talking crazy. There was no one behind her. “You’re only supposed to do recon, remember?”
“I don’t give a flying fuck. I’m going to find out what’s going on. Stay here.” He released her, and she had no choice but to watch him go.
Great.
Now what would she do?
She was tempted to follow him but worried she’d get lost and he’d end up in some kind of danger.
She wasn’t trained for this. As much as she wished he’d chosen another woman, she was glad he’d picked her. Xavier was a playboy. He’d said so himself. But she still had a sliver of hope that he felt something more for her.
Leaving the dance floor, she made her way to the corner of the ballroom. People mingled.
The waiter stopped by her and she smiled at him as she took another flute of champagne. Xavier left her and now she was going to drink until she stopped feeling afraid. Sipping the clear liquid, the bubbles tickled her nose. She watched, waiting, and wasn’t sure how much time was passing.
Every now and then she expected a large bang or gunfire.
Get a grip, Alesha.
“Now, who is the fool that would leave a beautiful rose, such as yourself, unattended?”
She turned to see a man with long, blond hair that was tied back into a ponytail. His suit and the way he commanded himself screamed money.
“He had to go to the bathroom to take a business call,” she said.
“Ah, business. The good old plague that ruins all fun.”
“I’m doing okay.”
She forced a smile.
Her hands were shaking, and she crossed one over her stomach as she held the glass tightly, hoping she didn’t shatter it. She didn’t want to talk and say the wrong thing.
“Would you mind if I stand with you?”
“By all means.” No, leave me alone.
“It is quite a get together, isn’t it?”
“It’s something,” she said.
“All that money and wealth. They’re all plotting and scheming how to get more. No one is ever satisfied in this day and age. Always wanting more. Always fighting.”
“You seem to take issue with that?”
“Not at all. I own this house,” he said.
“Oh.”