Page 18 of Bona Fide

? I Hate Myself For Loving You — Joan Jett & The Blackhearts ?

I’ve outdone myself—literally,there is nothing else I could’ve done to make this event more spectacular and beautiful. The location is perfect, spacious and impeccable with the numerous designs of white trimming over molded around each entrance and exit of the grand ballroom.

The dozens of white and blue flower arrangements—that are approximately two feet away off the table—fill the room with a fresh scent. The music is classic and light, while people bustle in and around, being offered appetizers by men and women in sheer black.

The grand staircase is shrouded with flowering trees at the bottom and top, and the linens—holy shit are they soft.

It’s beautiful.

The compliments have been rolling in, I’ve been handing my business cards out like free candy and already have an appointment for tomorrow. I’d say this event will be pretty epic for my business.

“Oh Rea, Rea,” Emmy’s voice singsongs behind me. Plastering my rehearsed smile on my face, I turn around to greet her, and she looks stunning.

In a soft pink gown that puffs at the hips and shows off her legs from the knees down, Emmy looks like a princess waiting for her Prince Charming. Her hair is perfectly styled, a silver necklace drapes down to the dip of her breasts, and, if she’s not careful, she might get ransacked by the single and married men at this party.

“You look amazing,” I beam, taking the champagne glass that she offers me. “You need a bodyguard.”

She smirks, tucking her chin into her chest as she says, “I do, Wade.”

Just the mention of his name, and the simple fact that this is his party, makes my stomach begin to writhe.

That or my lack of food consumption for the day.

“Did you see the candle holders?” I ask, ignoring the whole Wade thing.

Emmy nods. “You picked the ones I loved and that you hated, that’s true friendship right there.” I roll my eyes as I take a sip of my bubbly drink. “Speaking of, I wanted to talk to you—well, ask you about something.”

I shrug. “Alright, then ask.” Watching her shift her body, it’s a tell-tale sign of what she’s alluding to and wants to know.

Something I really don’t want to talk about.

“What happened...with you and Demi at Wade’s surprise party?” I bite the inside of my lower lip—hard.

So hard that I might draw blood and fuck my makeup up.

I knew she’d never let it go, it’s just not Emmy to do so. Anything that involves Wade, includes her too. They have this strong, unbreakable bond that is so annoyingly apparent that she and I can never be true friends while she still works for him. And that will, more than likely, be forever.

“Nothing really,” I reply calmly. “She was just snobby and—”

“She’s a bitch,” Emmy protrudes. “She’s not a good person, never has been, never will be. So, whatever it is that she said…”

“It wasn’t anything that I can’t handle.” I heave my lips upward to show her that it didn’t do anything when it did.

There hasn’t been a day that goes by that doesn’t make me want to curl up and ball my eyes out. He possesses my feelings, making me feel susceptible to a long healing process.

This man didn’t even take up but months of my life and my heart is acting like I lost so much more.

“But, still,” Emmy voices. “She doesn’t care. She talks to me like I’m some whore Wade sleeps with even though she hasn’t been around in years, how the hell would she know?”

I clear my throat as I take another look over the room. “She sounds fun.”

Emmy scoffs. “She’s evil, Rea. The things she’s done...Wade’s been through a lot with her.”

“That sucks.” I bring my flute to my lips and down the rest of its contents.

“Speaking of…” Glancing back at Emmy, I follow her line of sight, falling on Demi trying to hang on Wade’s arm while he’s speaking to a bunch of men in suits.

A royal blue gown drapes over her curves as she leans in to talk to the men in front of Wade. But it’s the open backing of the dress that has me narrowing my eyes.

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