Page 125 of Rhet

“This meet and greet can happen after the party is over. You still have work to do,” I say vehemently. My heart pounds.

What work? Technically, she’s done for the day.

Zeeta lets go of York’s neck and turns around.

The woman standing before me isn’t Zeeta. No. From afar she looked like a magazine cover model, up close she looks like royalty.

In theory she’s covered. She’s wearing a velvet black floor length dress, with sleeves down to her wrist, but that’s where it all ends. The plunge of the dress goes deep, stopping right above the gold belt.

Her skin glows golden like she dusted it with something. The dress holds her breasts in a perfect way. Then there’s the fucking slit. It runs all the way up to the top of her thigh. If she sneezes, I’ll see everything. Which means everyone else would too. To think she has no underwear on. It sends my blood pressure through the roof.

“I told you to dress sexy.” I need to stop myself.

She frowns and looks down. “I look great.”

“No, you look like a who—”

“If you complete that sentence, Rhet, I will slap you.”

York clears his throat. “I think you look stunning.”

His accent begins to irritate the shit out of me. He sounds like a stupid frilly teashop. Her facial expression transitions so quickly from mad to happy.

“Thank you, York.” She touches his cheek lightly.

“He’s just trying to fuck you. The dress is inappropriate.” It’s too late, I’ve dug myself into a hole.

York stands stunned like he can’t believe I’m this stupid. I look at him. “I’m not lying.” I just opened my casket.

Before York can answer, Zeeta responds, “I hate you some days because you’re such an asshole.”

“Why does everyone think I’m a mean asshole? Is it my sharp well defined bone structure? Does it shout asshole coming through?” It’s like a slippery slope, I can’t stop.

“No, it’s your childish, mean approach to things. I look great. I don’t need your approval.”

She throws her shoulder back and lifts her head high. I’ve messed up big time. Before I could apologize, an announcement is made.

“Good evening, we’re encouraging everyone to find their seats. We’re about to begin.” A voice echoes over the speakers.

York takes her hand. “I would love for you to sit with me.”

She smiles so brightly at him. “I would love that too.”

“Actually, I don’t think—” My words drop short.

She turns her head around so fast, I knew if I continued this night would not end well.

“Nothing,” I reply.

York takes her by the elbow and escorts her to his table.

I walk back to Julian and Dax, both look at me with sympathy. Both tut-tutting as I return.

“Well, shit, that was hard to watch. I can give you a master’s class on catching and keeping the pussy,” Dax says.

“Fuck you. Your turn will come.” I move away to go to my honorary seat.

ZEETA

---