Toxic Truth

1

ZELLA

'I'm sorry I can't make it tonight. Let's catch up some other day'

I groan as I read the text and shove my phone in my purse. My client, grace has cancelled yet another one of our meetings after requesting me to meet her.

She was the one who wanted to meet me at the club and not my studio to 'catch up and talk' before she checked my paintings.

I was reluctant to meet her because she had cancelled our last two meetings too due to not being able to come or being out of state, but I didn't want to be on bad notes with her and she was an old client. However, I wouldn't call her a friend.

I look around the packed club. There are people dancing on the dance floor. Others are on the booths, talking to their friends. Everyone is with someone they knew.

And I am here sitting on the stool in front of the bar, scolding myself for agreeing to meet Grace.

I take out my phone again and click on the call log searching my only true friend's number. I stop my self from calling her, my thumb hovering over the call icon as I mentally count the chances of Natalia being able to come.

Safe to say they were close to zero. Natalia would either be with her boyfriend, spending the night there by lying about being at my house or she would be with her mom who would never allow her to go to the club alone over a call.

Natalia's mom, Sophia was a bit traditional and liked to follow old rules and customs and Nat had done plenty of things to give her trust issues. If we ever want to go out to some place like this I have to ask and beg for permission from Sophia face to face.

Sophia is our cook at my parent's house, and has been with us since I was a baby so Nat and I grew up together. We even had rooms side by side and used to be together all the time until I moved out.

Sighing, I wave at the bartender and order a drink. I look around, checking if I find someone of my interest. I know I am going to be here alone so I might as well have fun.

Fifteen minutes later, I am ordering another drink when someone sits by my side at the bar. My gaze moves to the guy sitting at the bar, ordering a drink. He is dressed in a suit, and I can see his sharp jaw from his side profile.

I only catch a few words he says because I an too focused on his deep voice and him. His eyes move my way and I quickly look away before looking back at him after five seconds.

His gaze is still on me and he takes me in as his eyes move down my body and then come back to my face but I didn't miss his eyes lingering on my chest for a second longer.

God, he really knows what he's doing with his eyes.

I arch a brow and he smirks before taking a sip of his drink.

I keep looking at him as his lips touch the glass and he swallows the liquid. Why is it suddenly so hot in here?

This man is hot as fuck. His dark hair is neatly styled, yet messy as if he ran his hands through it. His beard is perfectly trimmed, even his suit and shoes are perfect.

He looks like he got here from a meeting.

For the first time in my life, I decide to take the first step and ask him, "So who are you here with?"

Please be alone. Please be alone.

"No one now. I'm here alone. You?" He asks and I feel my heart rate increasing at his voice and the intensity of his gaze.