Page 113 of Envy

I don’t bother to stifle my groan.

Even if the room had been quiet, she couldn’t have heard me anyway. Graham has this effect on people. He’s beauty, brilliance, and a whole lot of stardust—all held together by a gravitational force that makes people forget everything but him.

Josie clasps her hands together and bounces on the toes of her bright red, patent leather stilettos and squeals.

“Oh my God, thank you so much for letting Reena invite me to this party, Apollo. I mean, I can’t believe I’m in the same room as Graham Davis.” Her voice thins to a strangled scream. “Oh my God, oh my God. Oh. My. Freakin’ God. I think he’s looking at me.” She draws out the final vowel on the word me, and it sounds more like strangled meow.

“I’m sure he is,” I say disinterestedly and take a sip of my drink. I take a few seconds to savor the tingling effervescence of the ice cold tonic water infused with just the right amount of top shelf vodka dancing over my tongue. Why couldn’t life be like this drink? Simple, easy, uncomplicated but yummy?

“I’m gonna go talk to him. He and what’s her name just called it quits, right? I mean, he’s single again. This has to mean something, don’t you think?” she says, her eyes still fixed on him, but her hand clamps my shoulder. She squeezes it and squeals again.

“Sure, go ahead,” I mumble around the straw I’ve obliterated with agitation, envy, and more than a little despair. I toss down the useless, shredded piece of plastic and for a minute succumb to all my feelings.

The hand on my shoulder grips tightly and suddenly I’m spinning on the swiveling seat of the barstool I’ve been perched on all evening.

“Whoa, what—” I squawk in surprise when my drink splatters all over my bare arms.

“Come with me, please. I don’t know him. He’s your best friend.” I glance around to look for Reena who disappeared as soon as we walked in. She’s the worst wingman in the world. “You have to introduce me,” she pleads, her cornflower blue eyes as big as saucers and full of pleading.

I’ve been sitting here all night trying to work up the nerve to approach Graham. After he left last night, I wanted to run after him. But I decided it wouldn’t be fair to keep pulling him and pushing him and that I should let him see that I’d slept on it and wasn’t making this decision because I was scared. But, I’d been skulking in the shadows all night, afraid to approach him. Afraid he’d decide I wasn’t worth the trouble.

“Pleeeease!” Josie screeches and just to shut her up, I stand up.

“Sure, let’s go,” I say, and she pulls me to my feet, and we start to cross the club. The strobe lights flash over the sea of dancing, sweating bodies of the who’s who of New York’s entertainment industry.

Graham is one of the only people who could gather a crowd like this. Everyone wants to stand in the light of a star. In this city, there are three things that people value above all else: money, power, and beauty. Graham is the living, perfected, embodiment of all three.

He’s laughing at something that one of the guys in his huddle is saying. His head is thrown back, and his bearded jaw is on glorious display. His long, dark blond hair falls to his shoulders. Even in the dark of the club, it shimmers under the touches of light

“Oh my God, Apollo, look at his jacket. Only he could wear pink velvet and make it look like the most masculine color ever.” Josie’s nails dig into the forearm she’s got wrapped in a death grip.

I don’t respond. What could I say that wasn’t obvious?

Graham could make a yellow polka dot bikini look masculine.

As if he can sense our approach, his sugar gray eyes swing in our direction.

When they land on me, they widen, the way they always do when he sees me.

He breaks away from his group of friends and walks a dozen feet to close the gap between us. The sea of bodies part for him, yielding to his broad shoulders as he strides toward us.

As he approaches, his smile widens, but he doesn’t grin or show any teeth. That smile is his real smile. You’ll find it in every picture of Graham from the moment he was born until the moment his agent told him grins were sexier and sold more pictures.

These days, this smile is just for me. It’s warm, genuine, and very quick. It never fails to make me feel like the most important person in the world.

That familiar thrill of anticipation right before he touches me leaps to life just as he reaches us. His big, warm hand slides around my waist to the small of my back. It slips under my silk, loose fitting tank top, brushing the sk

in at the small of my back for just a second before it comes to rest in between my shoulder blades.

“Hey, Sunshine.” His lips brush my ear. “You havin’ a good time?” I shiver a little bit at the contact, but that isn’t new. I’ve been shivering under Graham’s touch since the day we met. I slip my arms around his strong neck and hug him back.

“I’m so proud of you, Star. This is amazing,” I shout into his ear, trying to be heard over the music.

His grip around my waist tightens, and he says, not shouting but, loudly enough that I can hear the smile in his voice when he presses his lips to my ear, “I’m so fucking happy you’re here.”

He presses a featherlight kiss to my temple as I pull back and I want to throw my hands back around him. I can’t contain the slight gasp at the kick in the gut I feel every time I have to let him go.

The last few weeks have been an exercise in self-control. My defenses didn’t stand a chance. I knew that I’d surrender. I was nervous to come here. I thought seeing him in his element, surrounded by all of these fawning people, would just make me doubt him. But, it doesn’t. I look up at his smiling face, and I know he’s mine. I smile broadly at him, my joy sincere, even as I take one more step back.

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