He holds his hands up, stepping away. I roll my eyes. Alphas. They’re worse than horny dogs.
Chloé can hardly stand up straight, and it looks like I am going to have to babysit her for the rest of the night. What else is new?
I pull her toward the VIP area, and she falls onto a plush pink booth, curling up like an adorable kitten. Maybe we should just take her home.
She’s such a lightweight. It’s barely eleven 11 PM.
“Chloé, wake up. You have to go up on stage at midnight to announce your new fragrance.”
She mumbles something like “five more minutes” and this is hopeless. I’m dying for a pee, but I’m too afraid to leave her. Dan has been hanging around the sidelines, keeping an eye on her from a distance, but I can’t see the burly bodyguard right now.
Marc appears at last, helping Chloé drink her water. I take that as my cue to leave. I’m peeing in my panties.
“Okay, I’m just heading to the bathroom. Keep an eye on her please, Marc.”
He salutes, and I rush through the nightclub in search of a toilet. There’s a huge line at the entrance when I finally find one, and this sucks. Now, I have no choice but to cross my legs and hope for the best.
This is why I hate nightclubs. The floor is getting sticky. And is that vomit? Gross.
It’s a co-ed bathroom, so it’s available to everyone at the club tonight. Even the creepy clowns.
“Come on,” I mutter, jumping on the spot.
I catch the attention of a man in front of me. He angles his head, a warm smile on his dimpled face. “You really got to go too, huh?”
My face deadpans per usual as he asks the most damn obvious. “No. I’m just sightseeing.”
His eyebrows rise. Then he chuckles, turning his body around so he can look at me. My heart pounds when I get an eyeful of him.
Well, hello, handsome.
He’s beta like me. So that means he never awakened as an Alpha or an Omega. He may lack a distinctive scent, but he still smells good. Like warm soap and peppermint.
He has long ash blond hair, which he has tied back into a ponytail, and a round pair of light brown eyes. I could gaze into those soft brown eyes all night.
The beta cocks his head, narrowing his lids. “You look familiar. Have I seen you before?”
It’s not surprising. I know I describe myself as a wallflower, but I am still a public figure. My father owns a billionaire dollar hotel franchise. I can’t be that obscure. No matter how hard I try. I just choose to stay out of the limelight.
I dip my head, hoping he doesn’t have any preconceived ideas about me. It’s another reason why it’s hard to find a guy. Most are just looking for a step in the door, hoping that by courting me, they can rub shoulders with the rich and famous.
I don’t have one famous friend. In fact, I hardly have friends. I got bullied immensely at school.
Chloé and Marc are all I have.
“I’m Renée,” I say. “Renée Laurent.”
I see the moment my name registers. His eyebrows disappear into his hairline, and then he opens his mouth. “Oh.”
The girl in front of him overhears us, and then she calls out my name. “Laurent? As inVincentLaurent?”
“Oh my God! She’s Chloe’s sister!”
“I love her!”
“Let her get to the front of the line. She’s practicallyroyalty.”
No, I am not. My father is a pretty big deal, but he is not a king. He’s a self-made billionaire.