2
At the hotel, I had the driver park across the
street. Front row seats to the drama.
My head was pounding. Even with the AC blasting, I was freezing.
The driver ran to get me a cooling patch.
Wrapped in my jacket, forehead patched, I leaned against the window, weak and
watching.
Showtime.
Five minutes later, the fireworks started.
L
Five minutes later, the fireworks started.
Sarah got tossed out on her butt. Ethan stood on the hotel steps, looking down at her like she was something he’d scraped off his shoe.
His voice carried on the wind, “Little gold
digger thinks she can crash my party with a stolen invitation?”
I missed the rest. Ethan’s temper was
legendary. Sarah’s stunt with the invitation probably pushed him over the edge.
Outside, Sarah’s face was thunderous, but
she didn’t dare talk back.
L
We were small potatoes compared to the
Ethans.
She swallowed her pride, along with the public humiliation.
She had no clue the furious guy towering over her was my recent ex.
The guy who, just a month ago, had been practically on his knees, begging me not to
leave.
Then, mid–show, the spotlight swung to me.
L
Ethan looked up, our eyes met.
Two seconds later, he yelled, “Olivia!”
Not good.
I frowned, rolled up the window, and told the
driver, “Go!”
He obeyed, but he wasn’t exactly Speed
Racer.
Ethan was almost at the car before we
moved.
Inches apart, we stared at each other through
L
the glass.
Then, we pulled away, leaving him in the dust.
Feeling pretty smug, I took a swig from my
water bottle a block later.
But…
Before I could swallow, the driver mumbled,
“Miss Olivia, I think… he’s following us.
I turned.
11
Yep.
Ethan’s hot pink Lamborghini was right on our
<
Ethan’s hot pink Lamborghini was right on our
tail.
The guy had a serious complex about that
car.
My temperature was rising again. I rubbed my temples, “Lose him.”
The young driver’s voice trembled, “Miss
Olivia, I’ll… try…”
