Wife Wanted (A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance)(96)

 

He saw one of his hostesses approach and greet her, then guide her toward the tent. He knew he should be out there to welcome her, and in any other circumstance, he would have had no problem walking up to the woman and making easy conversation, but for some reason, this woman stumped him. When had he become this shy man afraid to talk to a woman?

 

He watched her walk, swinging her hips and smiling and talking to the hostess. After a few seconds of observing her, he was ready to make his debut. It was reckoning time.

 

 

 

 

 

SARA

 

I walked with the hostess, who guided me toward the tent where the event was taking place - an outdoor set up that looked like a five-star hotel.

 

"Beautiful," I said to the hostess, whose name was Diane. Simply breathtaking, I thought but didn't say it aloud since I didn’t want to sound too eager and stick out like a sore thumb. I had to remember that even though I had never seen such opulence in my life, I had to act like I was born and bred with a silver spoon in my mouth so I didn't look ridiculous, at least not until I was kicked out of the party, which was sure to happen.

 

"You haven't been to this event before," she stated rather than asked.

 

"No, I haven’t," I admitted. There was no use lying. Based on her greetings to her co-workers and how she had so expertly received me, Diane had probably worked there for years and most likely knew all the guests’ names.

 

"Usually Mr. Saunders receives his first time guests personally. He likes to show them around. Perhaps he will show you the grounds later," she said with a curt smile.

 

"Perhaps," I replied, smiling. Perhaps not. I’m not sure I wanted to be that close to a man who was so filthy. Then again, how was I any different from the other guests? I had accepted an invitation to a party that I should not have come to. If anyone was filthy, maybe it was me. In a way, I was glad he had not come to receive me because he would have seen right through me.

 

I hoped when I began mingling with other guests, he would not notice me. Except there was one major problem. I still had his necklace and needed to return it to him. Damn. I felt my bag to reaffirm the necklace was still there. It was.

 

As I stepped into the tent, I couldn't believe that I was even in a tent. Mr. Saunders had transported the best ballroom from one of those expensive hotels and imported it into the tent. It was magnificent. Granted I was easy to please, but the place was professionally decorated with flowers, crystals, and the best of what money could buy.

 

"Nice, isn't it, ma’am?" Diane said, smiling. “Quite breathtaking when you first see it. You know, the first time I saw the set up my first time working for the Saunders, I wondered if I had died and gone to Heaven.”

 

"It is elegant," I said, trying to control my excitement. Perhaps if I acted like being in a five-star hotel-tent or whatever was the norm for me, I could blend in easily.

 

"Can I get you something to drink, ma'am?" she asked, motioning to a server with a tray of wine glasses.

 

"Sure," I replied with a smile.

 

"What would you like? We have..."

 

"Just water, thank you," I said, cutting her off gently. My head was already spinning from the wine in the limo, and the last thing I wanted to do was to make a fool of myself at this event.

 

"Sure," she said. She pulled one of the glasses off the tray and handed it to me.

 

I stifled a smile, thinking that I could have easily grabbed the glass of water myself. She made me think of those rich folks who needed someone to brush their hair and teeth for them. Usually, I was the one grabbing water off the tray for folks, not the other way around.

 

"Thanks, Diane.”

 

"My pleasure, ma'am. Is there anything I can do for you?"

 

"No, thank you so much," I replied. Diane nodded and started walking towards another guest. That was what I should probably do, walk towards another guest and introduce myself. Then it hit me. The people around me ran multibillion-dollar companies. They owned the kinds of cafes I worked in. What the heck was I supposed to talk about? My job as a waitress? I felt cold sweat breaking out along my spine. I thought about what sort of job I was supposed to have. I wasn't sure if my side photography gig counted as a billion-dollar business. I was screwed and I knew it.

 

I looked around. Several ladies who looked like they had just stepped out of a fashion magazine mingled with their partners. I moved closer and closer to the corner of the room until I was almost invisible. The women had wine glasses in one hand –no doubt sipping on the most expensive drinks in the world– and flirted with the men surrounding them.