Page 137 of If Our Hearts Collide

“It’s beautiful out here,” I mutter, cutting through the silence. Normally I don’t mind the quiet—I actually savor it—but the more time that passes without anyone speaking, the more worried I grow over the driver falling asleep behind the wheel.

The road that once was dotted with some lone houses now turns into one cutting into a forest. The moon peeks through on occasion between the canopy of leaves, but there isn’t a light post or street sign in sight.

All these years I’ve lived in this state, and I can guarantee I’ve never been to this part of the suburbs.

The driver glances at her phone, to what I assume is a GPS.

Leaning forward, I ask, “How close are we?”

She puts on her turn signal, shifting us all the way into a sharp turn.

Shit. We are here.

“Close,” she says with a friendly laugh. “I think this is the address?”

Her hesitation makes the butterflies that were just fluttering in my stomach turn into a manic sea of wings.

“This is fancier than I was expecting,” I admit, glancing around at the nicest parking lot I’ve ever seen. It’s illuminated by subdued glowing lights, and I imagine this place would shine with beauty in the enhancement of the sun.

My google search earlier didn’t produce pictures that represent this view, but I’m sure things look different at night.

When the driver parks the car, I stay seated.

Dammit.

This is my now or never moment.

And there are a ton of cars in the parking lot which bodes well for social proof that this is a legit establishment.

I mean, I did try to check it out online, but it wasn’t like I found anything of value other than the address verification and that there was a club on site.

“Here’s my business card with my name on it.” The driver hands it to me. “You know, just in case you need a lift back tonight.”

“Thanks.”

I hand over my money and double-check that I have all of my belongings, which aren’t much. It’s just a handbag for my phone and essentials.

Stepping out into the night’s air, I take a deep breath, recite a silent motivational chant to my scared self, and shut the door.

I watch as the driver pulls away from the parking lot.

And just like that, I no longer have a ride.

Now there’s no way for me to chicken out, and I’m too far from home to go back on foot. The only logical thing to do now is walk inside and hope I recognize someone from the speed dating event.

I watch as clusters of people exit their cars, taxis, and even limos. Everyone is dressed similarly to me, except I still am wearing my wrap dress.

Glancing toward the building, I take in the sights around me.

I’m not sure what I expected, but what I see is not what I thought I’d find.

A luxury mansion takes up the focal point of the entire plot of land and looks as nondescript as any other billionaire’s abode. I mean, don’t get me wrong, the place is gorgeous with huge concrete pillars, a balcony, and intricate designs that are carved into the stone siding. Several lit-up waterfalls make the place look enchanting, as if I should expect to find royalty inside.

It very much has the appeal of the mansion my brothers use for their business events and the location of the wedding, but since it’s so dark out, it’s hard to draw any adequate conclusions.

I take my first steps toward the entrance that is bustling with energy as herds of people enter. It’s hard to know if this is the normal volume or if this is something special.

My feet propel me a few more paces, and then I feel a hand touch me. Whipping my body around, I snarl as fragmented images from the dark abyss of my mind flash in front of me.

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