Chapter 18

Renee’s POV

The event wanes down. Mia has long been gone ever since I was declared the winner and I wish I could enjoy the praise and chatter of my colleagues without Mia’s prescience holding everyone back, but the idea of a dinner with Eric gnaws at my nerves.

The group I’m talking to bursts out laughing. I must’ve missed a joke. I chime in with my laughter but it’s obviously forced. Just when my colleagues are giving me the time I day, I make a complete fool of myself.

Just then Eric appears and I regretfully feel a twinge of relief. He doesn’t have to say anything, I know it’s time to go.

I excuse myself from the conversation and pretend that I can’t feel their curious stares boring into my back, but suddenly it’s like I forget how to walk.

Apparently, the journey isn’t too long, but these high heel boots make the destination seem much

further. It’s still summer, and even with the sun gone it’s still hot out. Especially as I hike up my dress

and try to keep pace with Eric who’s several feet ahead of me. Unfortunately, I didn’t account for a half walk, half run situation when designing this outfit.

Eric hasn’t said a word this entire mile walk. We’re halfway there and I doubt he’ll start talking now. I smile bitterly to myself. This is just like him. His ego is bruised and now everyone around him has to know and cater to his explosive behavior.

Eric crosses the street and I carefully step over the curb, but the sudden change in terrain causes me to lose balance. Something snaps and I hit the ground.

My ankle immediately cries out in a burning pain. I hiss as I try to move it, I instantly know it’s twisted, maybe sprained.

“Watch your step,” Eric snaps. His voice is rough but his movements are gentle as he scoops me into his arms.

It’s unexpected and happens so quickly I barely have time to protest. Although I don’t think I’m in a position to deny his support, my ankle is killing me. There’s no way I can put pressure on it.

Eric’s eyes are still set straight ahead, refusing to look at me. It’s like he doesn’t even know he’s carrying me.

For the next mile, we continue on in silence. For the next mile, I silently pray he doesn’t pick up on my scent. For the next mile, I hardly breathe.

Finally, we arrive at a gated neighborhood. Eric gently lowers me to my feet and still holds me for support.

We come up to the first house on the corner. It’s actually more like a mansion with a winding

driveway and a fountain on the manicured front lawn. At least now I know why this dinner party was so important. Clearly, this client has money.

Once we’re at the front door Eric removes his arm and I’m forced to put weight on my ankle. It’s not as bad as I thought it would be and if we’ll be sitting for dinner then I’ll be fine.

Eric rings the doorbell and elegant chimes echo over the sound of light laughter and polite chatter.

The double doors to the front of the house are pulled open, Eric nods to the uniformed man who lets us in as we step past him. Instantly the foyer is silenced.

People hawk at Eric, casting curious glances my way. I look at Eric who keeps his head high and plucks a glass of wine off of a silver platter. If he notices the stares he doesn’t seem bothered. Not like when we were at the amusement park.

Feeling always, I mimic his actions and also take a glass of wine. However I almost regret it as someone bumps into me and the red liquid sloshes in the glass, almost spilling on my dress.

I expected whoever knocked into me to apologize, but no. Whoever it was is too busy flocking to Eric. In fact, a swarm of people had gathered around him in the time it took for me to pick up a glass. Slowly, I’m being pushed further and further away from Eric, out of the circle.

“Your company has inspired my sister to start her own design line,” one person says.

“How do you do it?” Another asks. I tilt the glass up to my lips and look for a quieter place to sit. My ankle throbs.

In a matter of minutes, Eric has fended off the crowd. I watch as he approaches me. Keeping his eyes locked on mine.

“Why are you running away?” Eric asks and I’m not sure how to answer the question. I’m not even sure if he’s looking for an answer. He walks me over to the dining room. I’d like to choose my own seat, but I don’t want to draw any more attention, so I let Eric seat me right next to him.

The dining room is bigger than my whole house. The table is stretched to accommodate at least twenty people and still there’s plenty of room for the servers to stand by in the corners of the room.

Sitting next to Eric is apparently the woman who liked my design, though she could’ve fooled me because she hasn’t taken her eyes off Eric since we got here.

She clinks her glass and makes a toast as waiters serves the grilled chicken and mashed potatoes on our plate. I barely listen to her speech as I realize why I’m really here. I’m just a way for her to get to Eric.

She only invited me to make it seem like this was for business but for her, it’s all pleasure. Well, fine by me. I’m here to work and score clients so that I can pay for my daughter's medical care.

“Excuse me,” I hear someone say. I glance up and see an older gentleman towering over me. His belly hangs over his belt, and his thinning gray hair is pathetically combed over his balding head as an attempt to conceal the inevitable truth that time comes for us all. The only charming appeal about him is his suit.

I know fashion and expense when I see it and this man didn’t skimp out on either.

Eric’s too engrossed in conversation with the host of this dinner so I assume the man is talking to me. He holds his hand out and I place my fingers in his fleshy palm.

“A pleasure to have your acquaintance,” he says and gently presses his lips to my knuckles. I blush, not because I’m attracted to him but because I don’t think I’ve ever been treated like such a lady. His smile grows wider. “You are a stunner,” he says.

“Thank you,” I tell him, not sure how else to respond and steer this conversation toward business.

“Absolutely,” he says keeping his eyes on me while pulling a glass off of a silver tray delivered to me. The waiter walks away all without a word being said to him. The man hands me the glass, “This is for you,”

I look at the glass being put in my hands. I’m already at my limit for what I like to drink especially at work gatherings, but I don’t want to be rude. I bring the glass to my lips and sip. It’s good. I’m not sure what it is but it’s warm sliding down my throat. The man keeps smiling. “My name is Albert,” he says.

I think I recognize him as an executive at one of our advertising firms.

“So, tell me about your design,” he says and I’m thankful he’s bringing this back to work. I try to tell him about the fabrics, but my tongue feels heavy. Before I know it, another glass is in my hands and I’m grateful. I think I need some liquid courage. What is it about this man that makes me feel so nervous?

I’ve talked to rich clients before. It’s just work. This is no different than any other client. Still I drink half

the glass in one gulp. It helps a little, taking the edge off.

My tongue might still be heavy, but I can’t really tell anymore. I’m still talking about fabrics when I bring

the glass to my lips again but suddenly it’s not there. I look around confused and that’s when I notice Eric.

“I’ll drink for her,” he tells the executive. A dark expression falls over Albert’s face and I’m not sure why.

This drink is delicious, wouldn’t he want to share it? Albert scowls and walks away. I don’t think I made any progress in getting us more advertising.

“Are you okay?” Eric asks suddenly standing right in front of me. I open my mouth to tell him fine, but just then the floor begins to move.

I can’t feel the pain in my ankle anymore, actually, I can’t feel my body at all. The only sensation I’m getting is as if my inner wolf is being agitated but that can’t be

possible. My body temperature rises and my head spins.

“No,” I hear myself say and push past him to find a bathroom. Panic rises inside me as I try every door in the now-empty living room. This mansion no longer seems elegant, but instead haunted.

I take a shaky breath and tell myself I’m being paranoid. There’s nothing to be afraid of, I be just had too much to drink. I tell myself, but I don’t believe it. I think I’ve been drugged.

“I can help you,” I hear Albert say. His voice causing my skin to crawl.

Before I can say anything I feel a strong hold on my arm. I’m being pulled up the stairs and long gone is my graceful catwalk. I can’t get any grip on the steps or the stairwell. I open my mouth to yell for help but his thick hand covers my

mouth and part of my nose. I struggle for air making my heart beat even faster. My mind goes blank.

This can’t be happening. Were at the top of the stairs and the further we get away from people the more I realize that I’m screwed. No one is coming. I have to fight for myself.

I hear the unlocking of a door and suddenly I’m being thrown inside a dark room. I stumble backwards and brace myself for the hard fall but instead, I land on something soft. A bed. I scramble on the bed to look for anything to defend myself with. Anything to put a barrier between us.

Something to buy me more time. But my limbs won’t work.

Silent whimpers escape from me until the door crashes open and I yelp.

Eric is standing in the doorframe.