Page 15 of Valentine's Miracle

This convention isn’t catered towards one particular interest; it’s an open space for creativity to be known and I like the idea of being able to meet new people who put hard work into their passion. Those are the type of people who I want to surround myself with.

I have no desire to be tied down to those who only want to use others for their own gain without putting forward their efforts too. It’s a two-way street; there have to be sacrifices and gains in any situation.

Maybe that’s why I had trouble making friends when I was in college. Everyone wanted to party and do as many risky things as possible, but I just wanted to study and get my degree so I can get away from the wild animals that roam around campus.

That’s putting it lightly. I once walked out of a lecture hall with students dressed up as meat varieties on one side and vegetables on the other. I knew immediately that it’s a war on environmental health and the consumption choices of people.

I honestly don’t care what they were doing as long as they were not disrupting my time with their protests and ginormous body costumes.

“Oh, me?” a woman’s voice squawks beside me as I tear my eyes away from the brand of new makeup.

“I’m a blogger, I keep great track of the things I eat, and it’s how I’m able to be this fit.” The same woman gestures down her curvy body, a natural curve of her spine is beautiful.

Everyone here is gorgeous, and there is just me in casual clothing while they’re donned in fine silk and heavy jewelry. It’s not my taste, but I don’t find it offensive when the light reflects on their big accessories.

“I work on a massive platform, the biggest on earth and it’s famous for being fair to the creators. I live stream because my followers like to see the content without edits.” Another woman in the group chatting beside me giggles waving her long fingers.

The freakishly long nails are giving me anxiety because they are just below her eye, one wrong bump from someone behind, and she’ll need to go to the emergency room for that eye to be back in its rightful place.

The total number of women around me talking in one big group is too many for me to count, and I’m not blind to see the looks they give Silas. He’s an attractive man, and that mysterious grouch of an expression on his face tends to trigger a woman’s heartstrings about a bad boy needing rescue.

Jealousy is not my forte, and I realize it now when they try to speak to him. They offer him their names and their phone number along with their social media handles just in case he wants different angles of them, and lastly, their final action is giving him their hotel room key.

I press my lips together, holding back a laugh when I feel the annoyance rolling off his skin. Silas barks out a short but distinctive sentence that should not be repeated.

The women don’t give up; they surround him like hawks while I just scoot away silently. I want to understand how one makeup product can have the smoothest and most pigmented color I have ever felt.

“I’ll take this.” I point at the eyeshadow palette; the colors are bolder and not in the natural shades that most would use.

The man in front of me coos, “Oh, you have sharp eyes. This is our best-seller; every gorgeous buyer has returned for backups.”

“Oh?” I humor back. “Then, it’s that good?”

“It’s amazing,” he gasps at his words, putting his hand by his eyes. The glitter on them is bright, and it shifts colors when he turns his head.

“One swipe and the canvas of your beautiful face will become a masterpiece.”

I laugh at his dramatic demonstration, but the chattering beside me gets louder. I turn to see Silas practically on the edge of his self-control while the women have the balls to touch him, but that doesn’t last long because Silas smacks her hand away.

“Yikes,” I breathe the word softly.

Women are jealous creatures, but some are less than others. One of them is me, and I don’t feel any possessiveness over Silas when he’s surrounded by beautiful women and their magnificent accomplishments.

“Is that your boyfriend?” the vendor asks as he takes the cash from my hand.

I shake my head. That idea is ludicrous. Even if I wanted to be his girlfriend, Silas would relocate his entire life to the bottom of the ocean if it means getting away from me. He’s made it very clear that he doesn’t want to be anything other than the protection for this convention.

Before yesterday, I had hope, and I worked towards being a friend again with slow steps. After yesterday, it was a futile effort because he has made up his mind. When Silas wants to do something, he’s going to put everything on the line just to do it.

If he doesn’t want to be my friend, I’ll have a better chance of befriending a wild boar.

“Don’t lose your chance, chéri.”

I cock an eyebrow at the sudden change of accent. “French?”

“Born and raised in Toulouse.”

Excitement flushes my body as I laugh; the place is familiar in my memories. It was my winter break of freshman year in college; a close friend and I went to France where we did extensive research on hidden gems in places that aren’t talked about much.

---