Page 8 of Jordan

What the hell am I going to do?

Surely he’ll ask to pick again. He won’t take me to his room. There’s no way he spent all this money for nothing. I wrack my brain to recall what the contract said about this, if anything, but my head is blank. I know I signed a contract, but I’ll be damned if I can remember a single word in it. Regardless of knowing what’s on it, I’m pretty sure picking twice is absolutely out of the question.

But Enzo is my father’s best friend. He’s rich. He has power. He’ll pull some strings and get this all taken care of. I can’t go through with this now. My entire night is ruined. And here I was concerned him finding me would be the issue. I never, not for a second, thought we’d be paired together. What are the odds?

But this can’t happen. I have to leave. There must be a backup woman somewhere in case someone doesn’t show, right? Extra women lying around in wait as second string? Like in football.

Simple fix. If only I could make myself move. Or say something.

It’s really hot in here. I’m sweating.

If I can just get out of this room, all I have to worry about is making sure Enzo doesn’t tell my father.

“Jordan Delise?” Damien calls out again, his voice cheery like he’s trying to cover up the fact I’m not moving.

Enzo is still holding my gaze. He lifts his chin the slightest bit. Was that a nod? It may have been a nod. Yeah, definitely a nod.

Okay. Here goes.

I snap out of it and move. I put the vodka glass on a tall table I pass, but instead of running for the exit, like I thought I would, my feet move me toward the stage.

Toward Enzo.

No big deal. I’ll go up there. We’ll walk off together. I’ll apologize. Find the manager. Explain the situation. Find him a new girl. Beg him not to rat me out. That’ll be the end of it. I’ll apologize to him profusely. And beg. I’ll beg more than I ever have in my entire life. Beg so damn much. Tell him we can work something out because this is all a huge misunderstanding. Surely Enzo will have some sympathy for me? I’m just a young, stupid, naive girl who got mixed up in something she knows nothing about.

Enzo watches me like a hawk. I hold my chin high as I hold his gaze. The least I can do is have some self-respect in front of all these people. Pretend to be confident, even though I feel smaller than a mouse trapped in a room full of playful cats. I’m helped up the stairs by one of the staff and stand beside Enzo. The first thing I notice is how good he smells. It’s intoxicating. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the spicy, masculine scent. It’s making me dizzy.

He doesn’t react as I stop beside him. Doesn’t acknowledge me. I stare out into the crowd but see nothing. I’m trapped inside of Enzo’s little bubble now, and I am going to be in so much trouble. I’m dead. Enzo will not listen to anything I say. He’s going to scream at me, the same way my father would if he were the one here. And when he’s done yelling at me as if he has a right to do so, he’ll call my father and rat me out.

What a waste of time this was.

My father is going to lose his mind.

Lose his damn mind!

He’s warned me for years to stay away from clubs. Has told me repeatedly all the bad stuff he sees. I don’t blame that entirely on why I never went out and partied, but it was part of the reason. He scared the hell out of me.

But this is the one thing my father asked of me. The one thing he was firm about. The one thing he never bent on. He was fine with me going out. I shopped whenever I wanted. Went out to eat. The movies. Vacations. Anything. But the club scene was off limits.

Knowing I once again did something to disappoint him has my stomach souring, and the vodka threatening to make an unappealing return.

I didn’t listen to my father. To the one thing he asked of me.

And now here I am, in this embarrassing mess. Because let’s face it, this is embarrassing as hell. It was easy when no one knew me. But Vincenzo? He’s known me since I was in diapers!

“You will be in room thirteen. Please make your way there,” Damien says, gesturing off the stage.

My feet can’t move fast enough this time, and Enzo is right there at my side. We head toward the hallway that’ll lead us to the elevator for the rooms. From the corner of my eye, I spot someone walking toward us. Rafael.

I’d forgotten all about him.

So that’s great. In one night, I’ve disappointed three men without even opening my mouth.

Rafael is smiling, obviously not having a clue about anything going on. It’s clear he can’t feel the tension between Enzo and me, which makes me wonder how much he’s had to drink. Even the people we pass are giving us curious looks like they’re catching on that something is up.

“Here, Miss.” The staff inside the hallway hands me a bag and a slip of paper folded in three.

“Oh? Thank you,” I say softly, taking the items with trembling fingers.