A reprieve
1151 Words
IZZY.
I entered the lavish event room, my own breath holding for a moment at the utter elegance of it. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a golden glow that was reflected off the highly polished marble floors. Waiters in starched white uniforms glided easily between groups of well-dressed people, presenting glasses of champagne and hors d'oeuvres on silver trays. The room was filled with the sound of polite chatter and soft classical music.
I discreetly rubbed my damp palms on the material of my chic black dress. Richard and Hannah were now officially on my hit list.
As if forcing me to come on little more than a moment's notice hadn't been enough, I’d only just found out an hour ago that I was also expected to give a speech.
A f*****g speech.
A speech I was completely unprepared for.
My stomach churned with nervousness. I felt like throwing up.
I sighed in frustration and snatched a glass of wine from a nearby waiter and took a gulp, then another, then another. If I was going to make it through this stupid evening, I was going to need some liquid courage.
I rested against the bar, observing as people laughed and chatted, making connections that would likely alter the course of their careers. I was supposed to be networking too. That was the reason for events like these. But I hadn't volunteered to be there, so in a bout of petty rebellion, I was going to keep to myself.
I had another glass of wine.
And then another.
By the time the event formally began, I was warm and just a little dizzy. I sat at the back and allowed my mind to drift as speech after speech droned on.
My phone vibrated in my lap.
Seb.
My chest constricted as I saw his name flashing on the screen, followed by a stream of messages.
Izzy, come on. Just speak to me.
I was wrong, I know, but we can make this right.
Say something. Anything.
My eyes blurred for a moment, and I realised with dismay that my eyes were welling up with tears.
No. Not here.
I gulped down the sob in my throat and, not even thinking, switched off my phone.
As I blinked away the threatening tears, I heard Winston & Co. Corps called.
I straightened up, suddenly all too aware of the role I had to fulfill.
Taking a calming breath, I rose from my seat and stepped onto the stage, my heels echoing off the polished floor. The room blurred at the edges, but I forced myself to focus.
I made it to the podium, let out a slow breath, and started speaking.
"Good evening, everyone," I started, my voice firm in spite of the tremor in my chest. "It's a pleasure to be presenting on behalf of Winston & Co. tonight…"
I looked out into the crowd as I spoke, the sea of faces in front of me a haze of designer gowns and high-priced suits. But then—
My eyes landed on his.
A man stood at the other side of the room, propped against a pillar in a relaxed pose. Unlike all the others, he wasn't talking or glancing at his phone. He was looking at me.
With piercing blue eyes.
They locked onto mine, unwavering, filled with something halfway between interest and amusement.
My breath hitched.
My fingers clenched the podium edges, and heat crept up my neck. I made myself tear my gaze away, my mind fixed on my speech, reading through the remainder of it on autopilot.
At last, I was done. The audience applauded politely, but I hardly noticed them. I left the stage, my heart racing.
Yeah, I could really do with another drink.
I made a beeline for the bar, barely registering the people I pushed through. Taking another glass of wine, I downed half of it in one gulp, savoring the slight burn.
"Impressive performance," a smooth voice murmured beside my ear.
I turned my head—and there he was.
Close up, he was even more gorgeous. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a sharp jaw and those impossible blue eyes. His dark hair was slightly mussed, as if he hadn't bothered to get it fully under control, and his suit was fitted to him like it had been made for him alone.
I swallowed.
"You're drinking the event dry," he said, inclining his head toward my half-empty glass.
My eyebrow went up. "You've been watching me?"
His mouth twisted into a smirk at the corner. "Maybe."
I laughed in a quick, somewhat breathless manner. "I suppose you're here to lecture me on good corporate event behavior?"
"Not at all." He leaned forward a bit, his voice softer now. "Just an observation. You don't look too thrilled to be here."
I swirled the wine in my glass, sighing softly. "Let's just say… I wasn't really given much of a choice."
His eyes flickered with amusement. "And yet, here you are. Beautiful in that dress. Giving speeches. Drowning your frustration in overpriced wine."
I turned to him, my lips twitching despite myself. "You're very observant."
"It's a gift," he said smoothly.
I studied him for a moment. He was flirting. And under normal circumstances, I would have blown it off. But tonight?
Tonight, I did not want to think.
Didn't want to feel.
Didn't want to recall Seb's betrayal, Hannah's condescension and Richard's insensitive orders.
I desperately craved an escape.
And this man—whoever he might be—was offering it to me.
So, I lifted my chin and smiled slowly at him. "Well then, observant stranger, since you've been watching me all evening, it appears—don't you think you should introduce yourself first?"
His smirk grew. "I could… but where's the fun in that?"
I tipped my head. "Mysterious type, huh?"
He saluted me with his glass in a mock toast. "Guilty."
I clinked my glass against his. “Alright, Mystery Man. What exactly are you offering tonight?”
His gaze darkened just slightly. “A reprieve. One that’s blow your mind. You look like you need it.” He murmured sensually.
His words sent a shiver down my spine.
I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the way he spoke, but my skin tingled with anticipation.
He put down his glass and held out his hand to me. "Would you come with me?"
I wavered. For a moment.
Then, wordlessly, I slipped my hand into his.
The instant our fingers touched, a jolt of electricity ran between us—like static electricity, like the promise of something forbidden and exciting.
He led me away from the bar, navigating the crowd with an ease that I was surprised at, through the double doors, and into the night.
And for the first time in a very long time… I didn't look back.
- Writer
