Page 100 of Ewan

“Oh, fuck it,” I mumble, annoyed, under my breath.

This is not even about him being a mobster.

It’s about me being unable to stay away from him.

I am so damn fascinated with him that I’d rather make a fool of myself instead of forgetting about him and going home.

Using my rational part of the brain is futile, I realize, as I stare at my reflection in the window.

I don’t look bad.

But I don’t look like someone who has been invited to a Christmas party, either.

I pull out a small mirror from my backpack and run my fingers through my hair and under my eyes before applying a shiny coating of raspberry-scented lipgloss.

I open my coat and exercise my nonchalant look.

Maybe I could impersonate an eccentric, bored heiress.

I feel like laughing, but I stifle my reaction, hating to draw eyes to myself.

Okay.

I suck in a long breath, and checking the area to make sure he hasn’t returned and is watching me misbehave, I stop in front of the doors, pretending I’m waiting for someone.

Luckily, a group of people heads my way, and without remorse, I follow them inside as if we’re traveling together.

Step one, accomplished.

Now that I’m inside, I want to make sure I’m not being tossed out because I look suspicious.

The crowd is a mix of hotel guests and people who are here for the drinks and food, but I still feel like I’ve broken a few laws just by simply being here.

I move around the lobby, ensuring I’m not spotted by someone in his entourage.

He is the only one who knows me, so I shouldn’t fret over this, but you can never be too cautious with these things. And this kind of people.

Eventually, I sneak out of the lobby and follow a corridor that takes me to a nice area with lavish couches, low coffee tables, dim lighting, and Christmas decorations.

It’s impressive, and I wish I could study the room a little more, but he’s not here, and I’m afraid he might catch me with my mouth open, gawking at this space, if he came.

It’s not that I’m easily impressionable––I’m not––but the place is nice. It's too nice not to stick around a little longer.

Couples sit at the bar and sip fancy drinks. I should get one, too, and then I’ll never make it to the car waiting for me.

It must be well past six, so I’m late anyway.

I don’t even bother to check the time, although I should get back soon, and preferably before something bad happens.

With that thought in mind, I spin around and see him at the last moment.

Not noticing me as I swiftly retreat into a dark corner––lucky me––he heads to one of the big couches followed by a bunch of men.

They sit and sip their drinks while I use the opportunity to get out.

I couldn’t be happier to step away from that place despite still harboring mixed feelings. I saw him and satisfied my curiosity, so now it’s time to go home.

Moving quickly, I let him and his men behind me and head to the exit. But before walking out, I figure I need to use the bathroom.

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