Slow Dancing

03 | bis

0 3

b i s

[Lat.] : Twice; repeat the relevant action of the passage.

I KNEW QUITE a decent amount about Adelaide Bretton before I even met her. She was featured on the news every now and then and was one of the most prolific businesswomen in the country – shrewd, exacting and ruthless; not too different from her husband and son. When put together, they were the very definition of intimidating and so I was more than relieved when Parker told me that I only needed to meet one of them beforehand.

So, two days after my twentieth birthday, I found myself waiting at the café of Mortezion, a hotel that was located a two-hour drive away from home. I was a ball of nerves, especially since Parker was running late. I had made my way to the hotel on my own, ignoring the pointed looks from the receptionist table when I had arrived dressed in a black leather jacket pulled over a floral print tea dress.

Even though it was simply a hotel, everyone around seemed dressed to the nines, which wasn't much of a surprise since Mortezion was one of those fancy hotels I could never afford to stay a night in. A little more effort in dressing up would've been a wise option, I supposed, but I had just finished classes, taking a half-day off so I could get here in time. I was bloody exhausted and was seriously contemplating napping right here in the café when someone walked over and I glanced up immediately.

"Isla Moore?" I nodded a little hesitantly at the guy who'd asked the question. He looked vaguely familiar, blond curls falling into his laughing bright eyes and a friendly smile on his face, but I couldn't place a finger on where I'd seen him before. "I'm Nolan Mortez, Parker's friend. He told me he was running a little late and got me to prep you up first."

The missing puzzle piece fell into place and I knew at once where I'd seen him. "You're the guy from the chocolate fountain," I blurted, flushing when he raised his eyebrows. The memory was crystal clear and I recalled how he had caught me drowning my food in chocolate before doing exactly the same thing to his own plate of food. "At the charity ball – but that was a long time ago."

"Oh, I definitely remember," he let out a laugh, to my greatest relief. "Normally, these sort of things would slip my mind, but it was the first time someone threatened to kick me out of a party. That someone would be your brother, by the way."

My eyes widened at that, not because of Parker wanting to kick Nolan out of the charity ball, but because it was the first time that an outsider actually knew the relationship between Parker and I. We weren't officially siblings, but we definitely treated each other as such. Nevertheless, we were painfully careful about it, because when it came down to technicalities, Parker was still a Collins and I was still a Moore and our parents weren't together.

"Don't worry about it," Nolan said, when he noticed the tight expression on my face, "Parker's been calling you his sister for years in front of me and Kade. But this stays between us – so when Mrs Bretton comes later, be careful not to slip up, alright?"

I nodded. God forbid that actually happen. The consequences would be disastrous.

"When Kaden's mum comes later, just sit tight and don't say a word – Parker and I will explain everything. If she addresses you directly, maintain proper eye contact and answer as calmly as you can. Don't stammer or she'll think you're not convincing enough for the job. Be as polite as possible, because she doesn't take well to insolence, but be firm and try not to act like you're intimidated by her – which you probably will be. Hell, even I'm intimidated by her," he added, with a sardonic laugh.