
Excerpt
Copyright 2021 Evelyn Sola
I know her type. Spoiled little daddy’s girl, upset because her life isn’t going according to plan. No manners. Someone needs to teach her a lesson and knock the smug look off her face. Wipe that smirk off her full lips. Lift her right off her short legs and spank her little ass. Even now I know she’s seething with rage in her chair. She’s so tense, her shoulders are practically to her ears. I’d like nothing more than to walk over there, take the seat next to her and watch her squirm in unease, but this seat gives me a much better view. She’s across the room in her designer clothes looking daggers at me with those big brown eyes. A man older than her father enters the room, and she stops the dirty looks to smile at him. She pats the seat next to her, and he happily takes it. He whispers something in her ear, and she laughs, the sound melodious to my ears. This is the first time I’ve seen her unguarded and imagine this is what she’s like. I think she forgot she’s supposed to hate me. I want to hear her laugh again. And I do. He says something else, and this time, she throws her head back, laughing loudly, uncaring that she has an audience of one. All too soon, she sobers up, and I watch in awe as the tension returns to her body. She’s so rigid she looks like she’s going to snap. The room fills quickly, and her father stands up to speak. I tune him out as I wait for him to introduce me. My eyes find her again, and I almost smile when I see the daggers are back and directed at me. I hold her gaze, and she doesn’t back down. The humor she had just seconds ago now a distant memory. Her full lips are no longer smiling but are in a firm line. There’s no happiness in her gaze as she looks at me. Her eyes are a storm cloud, and I can see the brown orbs all the way from here. Neither one of us is willing to look away first. In fact, she lays her hands on the table and arches her eyebrows as she waits. I make no moves, and as much as I want to study the rest of her body, I don’t dare look away from her eyes. I never lose, and I don’t intend on losing to her by looking away first. Unfortunately, my phone buzzes. It’s my private phone, the one the nanny uses. Carla has been with us since Vince came home from the hospital. She doesn’t text unless it’s necessary, and that’s what causes me to break the stare and pull out my phone. I respond to the text, slide the phone back in my pocket and look back at her. She’s still looking, but I can see by the slight upturn of her lips that she’s claiming victory.
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