For 100 Reasons (100 3) - Page 24

I gape at her. “You what?” I know how excited she was to land the high-profile job, how immersed she’s been in the original work of art she designed for Derek Kingston’s new office building. “Lita, what happened?”

“Suffice it to say the project parameters changed midstream and I can’t work like that.” She gives me a look that speaks volumes. It also warns me that she doesn’t want to discuss it in front of Jared.

“Sorry to hear it,” he says, then quirks a cocky smile. “I don’t know Kingston personally, but I’ve heard he can be a tyrant to work with.”

“When he’s not being an absolute toddler,” Lita mutters.

Jared laughs. “Remember, we’re talking about a man who’s gone from world-famous rockstar to billionaire tech CEO practically overnight. I suppose toddler and tyrant are two sides of that same coin.”

Lita huffs. “Yeah, well, Derek will have to try to cash that coin in with someone else. I’m out.”

/> “His loss, I’m sure,” Jared says. He glances my way, turning the full impact of that megawatt smile on me now. “Will you be around after the auction? I have to go play emcee for Kathryn now, but I’d love the chance to catch up. I’ll come find you.”

He doesn’t wait for me to answer. With typical Jared charm and swagger, he tells Lita it was a pleasure to meet her, then heads off for the stage, the clusters of auction attendees cutting a path for him as he strolls through the center of the gathered crowd.

“Wow,” Lita murmurs after he’s gone. “So, that’s Jared Rush.”

“That’s him.” I glance at her, frowning. “You want to tell me what happened between you and Derek Kingston today?”

“Not really.” She gives me an exasperated look. “You know I will. But first, the ladies’ room, okay? It’s gonna take me ten minutes just to figure out how to pee in this dress.”

We exit the ballroom and instead of turning left outside the doors where dozens of other women are headed, I take Lita in the other direction, toward a quiet hallway off the beaten path.

“Are you sure we’re going the right way?” she asks as we turn a corner and the din of the party grows fainter behind us.

“One benefit of attending these kinds of events with Nick is that I also learned where to find the best restroom options.” I wink at her as I push open the creamy door to the ladies’ room and we step inside to blessed peace and quiet spread out before us in soothing cream and gold tones. Best of all, no lines.

Lita grins. “You’re a genius. Now help me unzip this fucking dress before I burs—”

A low moan interrupts us.

It’s a faint, but anguished sound, coming from the farthest stall.

“Hello?” I call out. Lita tries to hold me back, but I shake my head and walk cautiously toward the sound as it comes again, more pained this time. On the heels of it, a thready wheeze.

The stall door is closed, no gap beneath it and the louvered shutters that make up the panel are there for privacy, showing nothing of the occupant who’s clearly in serious distress.

“Hello?” I say again. “Are you all right in there?”

A small, shaky voice answers me. “Avery?”

“Oh, my God.” I glance back at Lita in alarm. “It’s Kathryn.”

I grab for the latch on the stall door, but it’s locked from inside.

“Kathryn, what happened? Do you need your medicine?”

Lita is right beside me now, her expression looking about as anxious and helpless as I feel. I jiggle the latch again, but the damn thing doesn’t give.

“Freaking high-class bathrooms and their sturdy doors,” Lita grumbles under breath. “Do you want me to try to kick it in?”

She’s already taking off her kitten heels. I shake my head, frowning. Inside the stall, Kathryn groans again, weaker than before. Then she retches violently.

“Shit, Avery. Don’t you think we should call someone to help—”

“No.” This time it’s Kathryn who answers. Her raspy shout is full of agony, but it’s also sharp with authority. “Goddamn it, don’t call anyone.”

Behind the closed door she’s panting, still wheezing with the misery of her advancing disease. The toilet flushes. After a moment, I hear the rustle of a long silk skirt, the unsteady scrape of a high heel on the polished marble floor.

Tags: Lara Adrian 100 Erotic
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