After I took a small sip of mine, I remembered why we were there. “What do you think he’s like?”
“I heard he’s hot,” she replied, and I remembered Oliver from a previous meeting and scrunched up my nose.
“I’ve interviewed with Oliver, and he isn’t—”
“Oliver?” She laughed. “He’s the lackey.” Before I could ask her what she meant, Reece turned back around and tugged on my arm. “Oh my God. I think that’s him.”
“Really?” I asked, then spun around. The guy she was pointing at was definitely not the one I had met on those virtual calls, yet something seemed oddly familiar about him. In that moment, my hands started to shake on their own. There was something about the build of the redhead standing across the room with his back turned to everyone.
I couldn’t quite put my finger on what about him was so familiar, only that my heart began to beat rapidly in my chest. A fine sheen of sweat started to bead above my brow. Maybe it was the champagne interacting with my medicine. I was about to set the flute down and switch to water when the man turned. The glass slipped from my hand as I stared at the one who’d once been my nemesis. This couldn’t be happening.
The glass dropping and shattering on the marble floor caused a number of others to turn and look in our direction, which would’ve made me cringe any other time. “Quick, Reece. What does CHG stand for?”
“Are you ok—” she went to ask.
“Just tell me,” I implored.
“Courtland Hospitality Group.”
Fuck! Just breathe. You’ve got this.“C-Courtland,” I whispered.
“Yes, and the developer is—"
“Jonas Courtland,” I answered for her.
“Yes, that’s him.” Reece seemed intrigued while I was praying the floor would open up and swallow me whole.
I stole another glance back at Jonas, and this time, I realized he was staring directly at me. The room began to close in on me, and I was now sweating profusely. I knew this was the beginning of an anxiety attack, so I quickly excused myself and rushed out onto the travertine patio just outside the ballroom.