Dirty Obsession (Dirty 1)

“Be prepared for what?” I ask.

But, before he answers me, the door swings open, and I have hundreds of eyes staring at me.

I swallow, but I don’t have time to panic as I’m guided into the room. It is so silent, I can hear my own heart thumping in my chest despite all the people in the large dining hall. I stare around at all the men and women who are dressed in clothing that is far fancier than what I am wearing. I thought I would be in the sexiest dress here, easily demanding Arlo’s attention, but the clothes the women are wearing are far more revealing.

What I don’t understand is why everyone is staring at me. I didn’t realize that it was a dinner party.

But so what if it is?

What dinner party with this many people cares if one person shows up late?

I expect the escort to stop at any of the tables toward the back, which have a few empty seats, but that is not where I am led. We walk toward a table at the front of the room, which sits high up on a stage where everyone else can see the people sitting at the table.

I feel my face warm as we walk. I’ve embarrassed myself plenty throughout my life. But I’ve never felt so judged by so many people at once. It seems the entire town has turned up for this party. It’s a rather small town, I’ve learned since coming here. One in which everyone knows everyone else’s business. And I’m sure that this moment will be the talk of the town tomorrow. I’m not supposed to be here, and it appears that everyone knows it.

Finally, my escort stops at an empty seat at the far end of the head table. He pulls out my chair, sliding it across the marble floor, and it makes a high-pitched scrape against the floor. I wince. And then I quickly take my seat, hoping the moment will finally stop.

“Thank you,” I say in barely a whisper, but my escort is already gone.

I feel everyone’s eyes around the room slowly leave me—if for no other reason than these people are rich and used to acting polite, and staring for this long is anything but polite. The noise in the room slowly builds to where I’m sure it was before I entered. Loud. But not obnoxiously so. But, while everyone else has returned to eating, everyone seated at my table is staring at me, waiting for me to say something.

“Sorry I’m late,” I say as I look around at the best-dressed people in the room, all dripping in expensive jewelry that is beyond anything I could ever imagine.

Most of the eyes quickly go back to their food, and they begin eating and chatting again. But three sets of eyes remain on me. A young girl of maybe fifteen or sixteen sitting on my left, an older gentleman in his sixties sitting toward the far end of the table, and Arlo, who is sitting three seats down from me.

His eyes are the only ones I care about. I hope to learn everything from him just by looking at him. But his gaze doesn’t tell me anything. He doesn’t seem surprised that I’m here, nor does he seem happy or upset. Just indifferent.

“You must be Nina,” the young woman to my left says.

I nod and smile weakly.

“I’m Gia. My brother said you would be coming and that you would probably be late due to your classes.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Gia. I’m sorry I’m so late. I didn’t realize that it would cause such a break in the meal.”

Gia laughs. “Don’t apologize. It’s just because everyone has been waiting to see the special guest my brother has invited to sit at the family table for dinner tonight.”

I open my mouth to tell her that he didn’t really invite me, but then I stop as a delicious plate of pasta is placed in front of everyone. I’m sure I missed the first few courses, and for that, I will forever regret being late because just the smell of the pasta is enough for me to forget about anything other than how hungry I am.

I dig in without thinking, shoveling the glorious pasta into my mouth. I moan when the buttery, creamy sauce hits my tongue. It’s the most delicious thing I have ever tasted. I shovel another bite into my mouth and then another after that, not able to get enough.

A throat clears next to me, and I stop. I feel the liquid spill down my lip, but I’m too embarrassed to wipe it away.

I look up and see more than a dozen eyeballs staring at me. I’ve caught the attention of the entire table. Again. I feel my cheeks burn as some of the richest and most powerful people in the city stare at me while Alfredo sauce drips down my face. I quickly grab my napkin, and I wipe my lip and chin before trying to muster a smile onto my face.

I hear Gia giggle softly to my left, and I try to let her joy fill me instead of the disgust that everyone else has on their faces. But her laughter isn’t enough to overcome my own shame.

A few more seconds pass before people at the table return to eating their meals in perfect precision, almost as if they were performing a dance. I finally chance a glance up across the table to see what Arlo thinks of me, only to find him gone. I sink back in my chair even though I know that my bad posture will be enough to get a couple of disgusted looks from others at the table.

“My brother never stays long at these dinners,” Gia says.

“Where did he go?” I ask.

Gia shrugs and then takes another bite of her pasta.

I glance around the room filled with beautiful people, including more than enough handsome men my age who I coul

d spend one night with. But none of them are what I want.