Page 38 of The Wrong Promise

She stares at me for a moment, and I expect her to give sass like saying,sure, Dad. Instead, she smiles. “Thank you, Jobe. I appreciate it.” I wave and watch her stride up the path to the front door, my eyes glued to her sexy ass, wishing it was mine.

After dinner,I head out for a stroll along the waterfront to clear my head. While I used the time to workand then check out the local real estate, I’m now thinking about Zara and what she’s doing.

For whatever reason, I don’t seem to be able to stay away and find myself heading in her direction. The closer I get, the louder the music becomes, a clear sign this isn’t the place for me.

Hands in my pockets, I stare at the front door and contemplate leaving. I’m not leaving until I know she is okay.Knock. Knock.

“Hey, dude,” a guy with long, black hair answers the door, reeking of weed. I glance over his shoulder, and smoke wafts around in the room behind him. “Can I help you?”

“I’m with Zara.”So move aside.

His blank expression takes a while to comprehend my words.

“The American.”

“Right. C’mon in, man.” He opens the door. “Head straight out the back.”

In the front room, another guy and three girls are smoking weed. Jesus, this music is depressing. And fucking loud. My eardrums are about to burst, not to mention the amount of smoke making me squint.

In the kitchen, five girls are dancing. But that’s nothing. The back room is where it’s at. It’s crowded, and I can’t hear my thoughts with thethump, thump, thumpin my head. People are spinning as they dance in front of me, blocking my way.

Why the fuck am I here?

Why is she here?

I weave around men and women, but there is no sign of her. A chick grabs my arm and pulls me close, grinding her hips against mine. What the fuck? “Where is Zara?” I yell.

“Upstairs.” Her ass grinds my hip.

“Thanks.”

I get out of the maze and head up the circular staircase. Voices carry toward the back of the first floor, so it’s not much relief from the noise, but it is something. Piper and Anna are sharing a chair closest to the doorway.

Piper takes one look and then glances across the room. “Zara, yourfatheris here.”

Hysterical.

I step into the room so I can see Zara. She is leaning against the counter of a smaller kitchen alongside another six or so other people. Others are making out on the couch opposite us.

“Jobe.” Her eyes round. “What are you doing here?” She looks at her friends and then back at me.

“I was in the neighborhood.”

It takes her a moment to register, so I go to her. “Is everything okay?”

She wraps her hands around my neck and kisses me on the cheek. “Girls, this is Jobe, who I was telling you about.”

It takes a moment to catch up. She’s behaving like she has a boyfriend, just as I asked.

I slip behind her and lean on the counter, wrapping my arms around her as I pull her back to my front. I lean in close. “What is this place?” I whisper.

“An orgy,” she whispers back.

She’s messing with me, swaying gently in my hands as Coldplay blasts from the speakers, much better than the music when I arrived.

Her friends are chatting about some guy, and Piper is calling him out as a cheater. Their words are exaggerated which is aided by the empty wine bottles beside her.

I rest my chin on Zara’s shoulder. “Is this your idea of fun?”

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