Page 3 of The Enemy of My Enemy Is… My Fake Boyfriend?

He called me his good luck charm.

A waitress filled my champagne glass again, and that's when I noticed the entire table seemed just as inebriated as me. In fact, the volume had steadily increased throughout the room into a nearly unbearable pitch.

What had been background music was now at club levels, the wait staff bustling around with bottles and trays filled with booze. People had to almost shout to be heard.

What a crazy scene.

Once again, I put my hand on Chase's knee, and this time, he turned to grin at me, his eyes instantly morphing into what I called the bathtub look—hot and hungry.

Oh, we were so on for later. Chase in a suit like this was the ultimate aphrodisiac.

He squeezed my hand and winked at me. "Not much longer."

I smiled at him, soaking in his bright smile and golden god features. So freaking beautiful.

But not much longer turned into what seemed like an eternity, everyone wanting a piece of Chase. I tried to kill time, eventually wandering the room, catching up with a few old friends, and freshening up in the restroom multiple times.

After yet another trip to powder my nose, I meandered down the hall a bit, in the opposite direction from the ballroom, seeking a little peace and quiet before I returned to the loud scene. I stumbled slightly in my heels and grabbed onto the wall to steady myself.

Where was Chase? I hadn't seen him for a while and I was so ready to go home and get comfortable.

Normally, I loved events like this, but tonight felt different somehow. Maybe it was all the champagne I'd consumed. Or maybe it was the fact that there was a subtle shift lately in my relationship with Chase now that his company had taken off.

No, no. There was no shift. God, my imagination could really go off the deep end sometimes.

The noise faded behind me, and I continued walking, looking for what I didn't know. Maybe a plush couch somewhere or a comfortable chair.

Like a beacon at the end of the hallway, there was a small sitting area in front of a large window, and something compelled me forward to check out the view.

And what a view it was, all of lower Manhattan spread out before me. As long as I'd lived here, I still appreciated it every single time. It truly seemed like the glittering heartbeat of the world, the energizing pulse reaching me, even up here.

A noise to my right caught my attention. Speaking of pulses. It was like a rhythmic movement. And then a whimper that was cut off mid-whimper with a loud shushing noise.

Something about that shushing noise made the hair rise on the back of my neck, a lightning bolt of adrenaline shooting through my veins.

It was familiar. Heart-stoppingly familiar.

I froze in place and the movement sounds continued. Not daring to breathe, I turned, ever so slowly, to find a door with a sign on it.Custodial services, it read.

Oh, dear God. Please don't be what I think it might be. Please tell me it's my imagination. Please. Please. Please.

Inching forward, I reached for the door handle and slowly turned it as if in a dream, a waking nightmare, dread twisting my stomach into agonizing knots.

But that was nothing compared to the next moment when I pushed the door open slightly and peeked into the small, cluttered room. All I could see was a flash of red dress and a man's bare ass as he pounded into her.

Ice froze me to the spot as I stared, my stunned brain playing catch-up with what my eyes were taking in.

It couldn't be Chase. It just couldn't be him.

While that refrain ran around in circles in my mind, my eyes focused in on a raised mole just above the man's left butt cheek.

Oh, God. I was about to hurl. All that salmon, all that champagne and crème brûlée... it swirled dangerously in my stomach, threatening a reappearance any second.

In a trance, I slowly closed the door and stumbled back, not stopping until I bumped into the wall.

Lots of men had moles above their ass, right? It couldn't have been Chase. He would never do something like that.Never.

That little window alcove was right beside me, along with several large upholstered chairs. Leaning against the wall, barelyable to hold myself up, my shaky legs gave out, and I sunk down to the floor, essentially behind the chair, its bulkiness blocking everything from view.

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